“Never,” Alfie says, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
The brunch progresses with carefully measured small talk until Drake sets down his mimosa, turning to me with that practiced smile that never reaches his eyes.
“So, Tara, have you given any thought to those other opportunities we discussed? Mother mentioned she had some fascinating connections at the Natural History Museum...” I freeze, fork halfway to my mouth.
Alfie’s face has gone completely blank behind that perfect Spencer mask, but his knuckles are white where he grips his water glass. The realization hits me like a physical blow – he knows.
He knows about his mother trying to buy me off, trying to control my future the same way everyone always has. And instead of asking me about it, instead of trusting that I’d never let someone else dictate my path again, he’s just... shutting down. Something cracks in my chest. Because this is exactly what I’ve been fighting against my whole life – people thinking they know what’s best for me, trying to protect me, manage me, control me.
My parents lying about Dad because they thought I was too fragile for the truth. Troy micromanaging my life under the guise of brotherly protection. And now Alfie, who I thought was different, who I thought saw me as anequal, is doing the same thing – deciding how I’ll handle something without even talking to me about it.
“You know what?” I stand abruptly, my chair screeches across the floor. “I actually don’t feel well. Must be something disagreeing with me.”
“Tara—” Alfie starts, but I cut him off.
“No need to pretend anymore, remember?” I whisper. “Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time trying to manage how I handle things.”
I turn to his family, summoning my best fake smile. “It’s been... educational. Really showed me what I want out of life. And what I don’t.”Someone who trusts me to make my own choices. Someone who sees me as an equal, not something to protect or control.
Marcie catches my eye as I leave, her expression sympathetic. At least one good thing came out of this mess - helping her feel less alone in this suffocating world of carefully managed appearances. As for me? I’ve got community service hours to finish and a family to explain my sudden unemployment to. Another situation where I’ll have to fight to be seen as capable of handling my own life.
I don’t look back as I walk out. Don’t want to see if Alfie’s watching me go. Don’t want to know if he cares that everything we built is crumbing around us. Because maybe this is what I get for letting myself believe someone could see me differently.
The bright morning sun hits my face as I step outside, and I realize I’m shaking. I’m not sure why. All I know is that I’m done letting other people decide what I can handle. Done pretending. Done with all of it.
Even if it breaks my heart to walk away from the one person I thought finally understood me.
27
ALFIE
The BMW’s engine growls as I take the corner too fast. Some indie rock song I don’t recognize plays on the radio - probably something Tara programmed in. I punch the power button harder than necessary, letting the silence fill the car.
Three hours of community service with Jonny the freshman, who spent the entire time asking me about “cool parties” and what I thought the chances were that he’d “bang a MILF” this year. Three hours of trying not to look at Maria and Tara working on the other side of campus, laughing about something I couldn’t hear.
I slam my door when I get home, only to find Ethan and Freddie sprawled across our couch, deep in some video game battle.
“Dude, you’re blocking the TV,” Ethan complains, craning his neck.
I move, but apparently not fast enough because Freddie’s character gets knocked out. “Thanks a lot, Spencer. Iwas about to—” He stops, actually looking at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” Ethan pauses the game. “You look like someone pissed in your coffee.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure.” Freddie sets down his controller. “That’s why you’re doing your murder walk.”
“My what?”
“You know, that thing where you stomp around looking like you’re plotting someone’s death. Usually reserved for when Drake visits or someone touches your lab equipment.”
I run a hand through my hair. “I got stuck with this freshman for community service. Kid doesn’t know a sedimentary rock from his ass and keeps trying to teach me about volcanoes. I had to be paired with a fucking rock nerd.”
Freddie and Ethan exchange a look I can’t quite read.
“You’re a rock nerd,” Ethan mutters.
