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“We’re a family,” Andrew said, voice gentle. “And I know we’ve never been the most involved parents, but you’re still our baby girl.”

“I don’t want to move out,” Lucy said, because she liked their house, and it was convenient as hell not to have to be financially independent. “But I can’t stay here if you’re always being unkind.”

She cringed; she felt like a fifth grader tattling to her teachers about the mean kids in class. But people didn’t stop being mean in middle school, and it didn’t stop hurting.

Her parents looked at each other, communicating silently, and nodded.

“Understood.”

“Of course.”

“Point it out to us when we do any of those things,” Andrew said. “And we will make a note and work on it.”

“We’re scientists, jaani,” Iffat added with a small smile. “We know how to take constructive criticism.”

That got a little laugh out of her.

“Okay then.” She cleared her throat. She stabbed a piece of chicken, popping it into her mouth. “Is this Chinese place new, by the way? It’s good.”

“Yes, it just opened up on …”

They talked a little as they ate, moving on, and Lucy was proud of herself. She had finally found the courage to speak aloud what she was feeling, and it had yielded positive results.

She had always been so afraid to have a confrontation, for fear that all her effort would mean nothing, but she realized now that if she felt something, she had to say it—she had to give the other person a chance to do better. It wasn’t fair to resent someone for things they didn’t know about.

After dinner, Lucy went to her room, reaching for her phone, excited to share the events of tonight.

But the joy was quickly overshadowed by heartbreak when she realized the very first person she wanted to tell was Grayson.

And she couldn’t.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Grayson

It had been a week since Lucy left, and everything was wrong. Charles was unhappy, and Grayson was miserable. The last time he and Lucy had spoken was a disaster. He knew now that he should have handled the situation better, but his insecurities had gotten the better of him.

He didn’t know how to fix things. Lucy was so angry with him.

The day after Lucy broke up with Grayson, Charles had told him that he’d missed Sophie’s death anniversary, which was why Lucy was upset—on Charles’s behalf.

“She’s sensitive when it comes to me, you know that,” Charles had said, watching Grayson mope around the bookstore after Lucy walked out.

“I know—and I’m sorry I didn’t know about the anniversary,” Grayson had replied, feeling terrible that he hadn’t been there for Charles. “I-I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It’s still difficult for me to talk about sometimes,” Charles had said. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t realize you had plans and would be out all day, or I would have mentioned it, and when you got home, I was already so tired.”

Grayson had sighed. “Still, I wish I had known.”

Charles had put a hand on Grayson’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said. “I know Lucy’s a bit upset right now, but she’ll be fine. Give her a moment.”

He had, but a week had passed, and she still hadn’t come back to the bookstore she loved so dearly. He kept hearing her last words to him: “It’s over. You win.”

What was that even supposed to mean?

Charles was sure she would come back eventually, and he spoke with her every day. Grayson thought about calling her, but each time he picked up his phone, he remembered how she’d told him to just leave already, and he refrained. She didn’t want to hear from him.

While Charles and Grayson tried their best to handle things at the store, Charles interviewed potential staff, which felt deeply wrong. Everything was wrong without her; this store was made up of her! It had lost half its charm in her absence, no longer feeling cozy or warm.