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“I thought we agreed you were going to go out and meet someone else and have an amazing time?”

“I can’t!” she cries. “Who’s going to go out with me, looking like this?” She’s convinced she’s gained weight, which is why we’re hiding out in her cottage—otherwise there will be the inevitable photos, accompanied by a story implying she’s broken-hearted. Worse this time, she says, because it’s true.

“Anyone in the sane world would go out with you,” I reply. “You’re gorgeous.”

She grabs a croissant and tears off a piece. “Not according to my manager. He wanted me to lose five pounds before my tour, and now I’ve gained five instead.”

I set my fork down. Drew seems to surround herself with people who are awful to her, who say the worst things to her with absolute impunity, things that aren’t even true, and she believes every one of them. “You don’t need to lose weight. You do need to fire that manager, however.”

She shrugs. “He wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. It’s fine. I’ll go on an all-cocaine diet for the next week and the weight will come right off.” Her eyes light up, suddenly. “Maybe he’s going to tell you he loves you this weekend!”

“I don’t think you need a lawyer for that.” I still have no idea why Ben’s involved.

Her eyes grow wide. “Maybe he’s going to propose. It’s a prenup!”

I force a smile. “We’re only a few weeks past ‘oh good, you got the vomit out of the dress’. I seriously doubt it’s anything like you’re thinking.”

And it would need to be, wouldn’t it, to have this all work out?

34

On the morning of our trip, my phone rings early. Too early.

It’s barely light out and Hayes, beside me, doesn’t even twitch at the sound. I grab his T-shirt off the floor and head toward the stairs.

“Tali?” my mother asks, her voice tremulous and strained, as if she’s been crying.

“What happened?” I can barely get the words out. “Is it Charlotte?”

“It’s me. I was in a car accident last night and broke my leg. They say I won’t be able to drive for months. I know you weren’t due home for a few weeks, but I can’t even get to the store.”

I blow out a breath. If I were a better daughter, I’d go rushing out there. But surely, she can wait until the weekend is over, at least?

“Okay,” I tell her. “I’m going away, but next week I’ll—”

“I need you here today,” she says. “The situation is…complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“I’d had a little to drink,” she says. “So, I got a DUI and the officer is claiming I hit him and…well, the upshot is that I’m now in police custody and the moment I’m released from the hospital they’re taking me to jail. I need you there to post bail.”

“God, Mom,” I whisper. There’s so much to say that I don’t even know where to begin. She’s the parent. It’s not my job to scold her. But how could she have been so irresponsible? I take small, shallow breaths. Blaming her and blaming myself. I’d been secretly hoping she’d pull herself together before Charlotte returned. It was impossibly stupid of me. And selfish. I just wanted that extra time with Hayes so, so badly.

“I’ll come home. I’ll fix it,” I tell her, but something hardens inside me. I always felt like my loyalty to my family was infinite. For the first time ever, I’m seeing an end point. I’ll do whatever is necessary for Charlotte, but I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive my mother for making me give up what I’m about to.

I hang up and take a long, shuddering breath.

“What happened?” Hayes asks.

I look at his face and want to weep. These weeks have been amazing, but there’ve been no promises made. I had no reason to be in LA anymore anyhow, and I couldn’t ask him to wait for me.

“I have to go home,” I whisper. “My mom’s broken her leg.”

He kneels beside me, still in nothing but boxers. “For how long?” he asks.

He’s probably doing the same math I am: wondering how long this would have lasted anyway, wondering if it’s worth suggesting we continue.

I swallow. “A long time,” I reply. “At least until Charlotte’s in college next year.”