An intake of breath.
“Nadine Heywood.”
I came back to myself, the edges of me slotting together from where they had slipped away, and then I was on the stage, the award pressed into my hands, and the lights found me, the camera locked.
I looked everywhere but at Harper as I made my speech.
I was letting her go.
———
“Come on, Nadine, please,” Caleb begged, clutching his own award like he was worried someone might snatch it from him. “We won together.”
I was not sure where this assertion came from, but evidently he believed it, or why would he be wasting his time after achieving a dream like this begging me to come celebrate it with him?
“Look,” he finally sighed, sensing I wouldn’t budge. “You’ve got my number. Call me if you change your mind.”
And then something shifted in the man who had been there through my worst loss, the pothead who laughed with me during the Oscars, the man who had hugged me on the carpet mere hours ago: His gaze sharpened and something in me pulled in response.
His gaze flicked to my lips, only for a second, before meeting my eyes again. “I’d really like to see you there.”
“Thank you,” I managed, and I looked up, around, wondered if it was just to avoid his gaze and then realized it’s because I was looking forher, to see what she made of this little exchange.
But Harper was already gone, slipped quietly away.
I went back to my hotel room. I didn’t want to be party-girl Nadine, not tonight. If I’m honest I wanted to go to a bar with Harper, maybe Langstone House for old time’s sake, and I wanted to clink my glass against hers and raise a toast to all that we had achieved and acknowledge whatever we were losing here too.
But that obviously wasn’t an option. Harper had a life outside of me. I had this hotel room and Caleb’s number saved in my contacts.
I couldn’t get the dress off alone, had to phone Amos and have him unfasten the buttons down its back.
I wondered if Joel did this for Harper. I thought of her fingers trailing down my back as she laced me into that metal dress.
Amos left quickly, and I let the dress pool around me beforetaking off my makeup, unpinning my hair—all so tedious, all so ruinous, theNadinethat had taken hours to create falling away.
I stared at the trophy while the bath ran, and I thought about ordering room service, food or wine, and it all felt so sad, so underwhelming.
My breath hitched, trying to halt the tears I felt brewing.
That maybe this wasn’t worth it. That maybe none of this was worth it.
A sharp rap sounded upon my door, and I pulled my robe tighter about me and opened it.
There was Harper, makeup smudged but hair pristine, her bottom lip plump and wavering.
She wore that hunk of turquoise around her neck again, like luck might have been enough to best me. Or to save her.
It was specked with blood.
The rest of her was drenched in it.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
Act Three
A FATAL FEUD
Harper is a swish of green satin down the carpet, her dark hair long and gelled straight and severely back. By her side, Joel Ingram waits in a matching satin suit, dark but with green threaded through. Harper leans her head on his shoulder, her heels bringing her level, and he turns to press his lips to her forehead. She glances up and smiles.
