Page 49 of Every Time We Touch

“But what, Jen? Who is it?” Heather’s face is a mask of confusion.

“It’s… Clancy.”

For a second, Heather just stares at me, like she’s waiting for me to correct myself.

“Clancy?” Her voice drops. “Dad’s Clancy?”

I nod, my hands shaking.

“But… Dad’s in love with her.” Her words come faster. “He told me this week. That’s why he went to see her. He has, like, real feelings for her.”

“So do I,” I blurt out.

Heather lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding? Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

She turns away from me and starts to pace. “Jesus, Jen…”

“Please, don’t tell anyone.” My voice cracks. “You can’t tell anyone.” If only it was relief flooding through me, but it’s the opposite. It’s shame. It’s guilt.

Heather stops and turns back to me. “Are you sleeping with her?” Her eyes widen and there’s something much harder in her gaze now. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me like the plague?”

“I’m sorry.” My hands curl into fists at my sides. “I tried to stop it, but… I couldn’t. I can’t.”

“Jesus, Jen.” She takes a step closer. “Is this for real?”

I swallow something out of my throat, unable to reply.

“You don’t even have to tell me it’s real.” She shakes her head. “Oh, fuck.”

“Can you promise me this stays between us for now?” I have to focus on something else than this dread spreading inside me—like minimizing the damage I’m about to do.

“For now?” Heather glares at me. “Do you mean you’re going to continue… sleeping with her? Knowing how Dad feels about her?”

“I don’t know.” Yes. No. I truly have no clue. What a nightmare.

“Does it not bother you that she was in bed with Dad a few weeks ago?” Heather twists the knife—and articulates the one thing I promised myself I’d never think about. “And what does that say about her? As a person? That she’s capable of doing that?”

“And you wonder why I didn’t tell you?” Even though I have no right to cry, I can’t keep my tears at bay.

“I’m sorry, Jen, but this is just… shocking. I don’t know what to do with this.”

“Neither do I.”

“You could start with no longer seeing her.”

“I tried that already.” Although try might be too big a word for resisting Clancy for a mere seven days. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Did it start when she was still with Dad?” Heather’s standing stock-still now.

“Yes.” I nod. “We kissed, after which she immediately ended it with Dad.” I feel like I’m in an appalling soap opera playing the most inconceivable scene ever—and I’m the villain.

“Christ’s sake, Jen.”

“I know.” A heavy silence falls.

“Are you saying that you want to keep seeing her?” Heather asks.