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There’s movement in the door’s window before we hear it unlocking. My heart sinks as Bill opens it. His face is hard, his eyes cold.
“What are you boys doing here?” he asks without an ounce of warmth.
“Can we talk to Athelia?” Cal asks.
“No. She doesn’t want to speak to you or even see you.”
“Bill, please,” I say. “We just want an explanation.”
“She owes younothing,”he spits out. “After the way you three have treated her over the past few years, I’m surprised she even gaveyou the time of day. Now get the fuck off my property. If you ever come back, I’m calling the cops on you.”
He slams the door in our faces.
Pain twists through me. She told her parents about us? Last I checked, she seemed reluctant to.
What changed?
“Wait,” Cal calls. He raises his hand to knock, but I grab his hand.
“No. Let’s just go.”
“But—but she…” Cal trails off as he stares at the closed door.
“We can find another way,” I say quietly. “But right now, we need to get off the Harper’s front porch before Bill calls the cops on us.”
Wes and I practically have to drag Cal to the car. I shove him into the back before sliding into the driver’s seat. Wes slams the passenger side door much harder than he needs to. When I turn to face him, he’s glowering.
“I’m not leaving without talking to her.”
. . .
We watch the house from a distance for a few hours. I’m not sure what we’re waiting for, exactly—Athelia to leave, or her parents to.
Cal has barely said a single word since Bill told us off. Fuck, none of us have. None of us saw this coming.
Before Athelia left, we were talking about spending next Christmas together. She promised she’d come back home so she could celebrate New Year’s with us. So why is she doing this?
I think back over the past two months, going through every memory with a fine-tooth comb. It really seemed like she cared about us. Not to mention, when she realized I was hurt the other week, she freaked out. She was terrified of losing me.
Even now, the memory of her tear-stained cheeks tugs at my heartstrings. There’s no way she was faking her fear that night.
What happened?
“Hey.” Wes nudges my arm. “She’s leaving.”
My gaze sharpens on the silhouette of Athelia leaving her parents’ house. She climbs into her car without even glancing around.
Like she actually thinks we’d leave.
Once she’s on the road, we follow at a safe distance. Unsurprisingly, she heads to the cafe she said she loves. We park a block or two away and hurry along the sidewalk.
The cafe is mostly empty except for a young couple up front. Athelia is sitting at a table in the back with a book in her hand.
“Order for Athelia,” the barista calls as we walk past the counter.
Wes grabs the mug just as Athelia looks up. When she lays eyes on us, her face falls.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as Wes places the mug on her table.
