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“Harmony?” I ask, pushing up off the counter.
“Yeah… she’s back. She’s the kids’ art teacher.”
My eyes widen. “You saw her? Yesterday?”
“Yeah.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “This is the last thing I need on top of all the shit going on at work.”
“Tris…” I move forward, placing my hand on his arm.
“Don’t,” he growls, backing away from me. “I can’t do this, this can’t be happening. Everything was going good—”
I laugh, so abrupt he halts. “Everything is not going good,” I tell him. “You’re walking around like a zombie. How many hours’ sleep did you get this week? You’re not talking to your mom; you’re not talking to Nate. You’re pretending, Tris. You’re acting like life is perfect when it’s not, and it won’t be until you face everything head-on.”
“You don’t have the first fucking clue about what’s going on in my life.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure I don’t, I’m only the one fielding your mother’s calls; I’m the one that has to tell Nate the kids are okay. I’m the one defending you to everyone, telling them to let you work through things.” I pause, raising a brow. “But you’re not, are you? You’re going to do it again: you’re going to pretend.”
“You’ve been talking to Nate?” he grunts. Out of everything I said, that’s what he wants to focus on?
“You know what, forget it. Like you said, I’m not needed here today, right?”
Maybe Charlotte and Nate are right: the only way to get him to face what he’s doing is to shove it down his throat.
I’m brought out of my own head when Izzie shouts, “We got out of school early!” running toward me and dropping her backpack on the floor.
“You did!” I give her a warm smile, my nerves on edge for what is about to transpire in this house.
“Go on up and get changed.” Charlotte claps her hands. “Then we can go and have fun outside!”
Izzie runs up the sta
irs but Clay stops in front of me, a worried look in his eyes. He’s observant and he knows something is about to happen.
“Go on,” I encourage.
He hesitates a beat before he shakes his head and follows after Izzie.
“Come on then, let’s get everything set up. Nate said they’re on their way.” Charlotte flits past me, her heels clacking on the marble floor.
Edward gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t think this is going to go down well either, but follows her dutifully, knowing whatever he says won’t be listened to either.
We make the side dishes and by the time Izzie and Clay come down, we’re outside on the patio setting the table.
“They’re here!” Charlotte pulls on her necklace nervously, looking like she regrets doing this. A quick shake of her head and the look disappears being replaced by the confident woman she always is.
Izzie follows after her back through the house as Clay sits next to me, his hands in his lap and his eyes focused on the table.
“Hey,” I say, placing my hand over his. “What’s up?”
“Dad’s not going to like this,” he whispers.
I give his hand a gentle squeeze, silently agreeing with him but not wanting to say it out loud. He can feel the tense atmosphere, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s coming from me. Maybe if I act like this is a good idea then he’ll not be so tense?
The sounds of footsteps come closer and when I turn my head I see Izzie pulling Tris through the back door. His eyes take everything in: the grill open and the table set for a cookout. His gaze finally lands on me and then Clay, the swirls in his eyes telling me he’s not happy in the slightest.
Edward shuffles in the seat opposite me as he comes under Tris’s scrutiny.
“I need to go and get changed,” he tells Izzie, letting go of her hand. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
