Page 164 of The Difference Between

“That’s not fair,” Rue argues. “We’ve tried to visit a dozen times and you’re always too busy.”

“Hey.” Gavin makes the unfortunate mistake of ignoring my demands because his voice is in my ear and his hand on my back. “Let’s go outside.”

I laugh—loud. Too loud for anyone to be comfortable. I cut my eyes to him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

His chin pulls back. “What is going on?”

“We aren’t together, Gavin,” I snap.

Hurt fills his face and I want to eat my own words.

“We aren’t,” I repeat. “We fucked. After I bought a vineyard to save your ass too.”

“You bought the vineyard?” Gavin asks. He’s stunned. The room is.

I don’t say the rest. That I bought it because I wanted him to keep his shop or his mom to be able to breathe easy. I don’t bother telling them about me trying to fulfill the dream seventeen-year-old me had that fit like a glove until mere hours ago.

My “Yep” comes out cold, and my gaze goes to the ceiling as I tip my glass back—it’s empty.

“Why?” Gavin asks.

“Why?” I laugh. “Why do I do anything?” My eyes bounce between his. “To make money. To get results and move on. That’s why I’m here. To get my mom better—she is—and get back to my life.”

“Reese,” Mom says, “what’s this about?”

I slam my champagne flute on the counter, and it shatters. Nobody moves or breathes and I feel like seven hundred exploding sticks of dynamite have been shoved into my chest cavity.

“Maybe Gavin can fix that,” I sneer. To everyone else, I say, “And this is about all of you forcing a life down my throat that I don’t want.”

“Ree,” Remy says, “nobody’s forcing anything down your throat. You’re the one who said⁠—”

“Your husband is a piece of shit for nailing a yoga teacher named Serendipity?” I spit out a laugh. “C’mon, Rems, can you be any more cliché? Darren’s been dicking around for years, and we all know it.”

Remy looks a breath away from a meltdown and Rue gasps. “Reese!”

“What?” I snap. “Someone needed to say it.”

Right on cue, headlights shine through the window. The alcohol doesn’t put a dent in the sadness coursing through me.

“That’s my ride, folks.” I take a deep bow. “I brought you here to tell you goodbye, and now that I’ve done what I came to do, I’m going home.”

At the door, I put on a pair of tennis shoes—they look ridiculous with my skirt—and Addie rushes over to hug me. “When are you coming back?”

“Um.” I reach for an answer I can’t find. “I don’t know yet.”

She looks like I feel—blinking those perfect almond-shaped eyes through her glasses—and I don’t know how to lie to her. I can’t. “I have to go.”

I glance at Rue whose body is growing a baby this very second. One that will have her eyes and Nash’s nose. I open my mouth to congratulate her but can’t do that either. Just like I can’t have a baby of my own.

Rue is pregnant and I am not. I never will be.

Mom calls my name, and I grab my duffle then slip out the door.

I hear it open and close behind me and know there’s only one person stupid enough to try to stop me.

“Do not follow me, Gavin.”

He does though—of course he does. As tears race down my face and I belligerently tell him to go to hell and hurry to the car waiting for me, he’s right on my heels.