of her lungs and crying to Adele.
Be nice, I told myself. I might hate her, but I had no small amount of empathy for her situation, fueled in part by guilt for the part I’d played. But she and Sebastian were never good together, never staying together for more than a few months at a time before breaking up again. They fought like cats and dogs, but if you asked Marnie, Sebastian was hers, end of—the fact that she left him was moot. As such, the target on my back was bigger than the Lone Star State itself.
He must have loved her to keep going back, even though they looked toxic from where I was standing. How they ended up married was a mystery to me, but that they were in the middle of a divorce surprised me zero percent. But I couldn’t ignore the fact that she loved him and lost him. It had to be impossibly painful. Especially once she found out I’d had his child, the child he wouldn’t give her.
Still, I didn’t take well to being bullied. Once at a party after senior year, she cornered me and picked a verbal fight that turned into a physical one. I wasn’t proud that I’d popped her in the eye—I didn’t even realize I knew how to punch somebody until that moment—but I couldn’t deny the satisfaction when I saw her walking her shiner around town.
We’d been pulled apart and carried off like a couple of feral cats, her by Wyatt and me by Sebastian. He’d practically thrown me over his shoulder and dumped me in his truck, sweeping me away from the party and to the river. We sat on the rock overhang and talked all night. His mom’s health was in decline, and she was wasting away from chemo, and that night, he told me he wouldn’t ever have kids. That carefree levity only teenagers can achieve had weighed him down, sobered him. Aged him. He became an adult that summer, long before any of the rest of us.
It was also when he told me he wanted out of Lindenbach, wanted to see the world and change it for the better.
He was always too big, too bright for this town.
But somehow, he ended up chained to Marnie. For a minute, at least.
Smile refreshed, I turned to her with her order, setting the coffee and pie on the counter between us. “Anything else?”
She picked up her fork and sectioned off a piece, bringing it to her perfect lips. Marnie was a stunner, the all-American, cheerleading, apple pie sort. The kind of girl no one refused, a trait bred into her by her father and her family’s position. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that the only person who’d ever told her no was Sebastian, the one person she wanted to hear yes from.
See? Be nice. She loves Seb.
Another part of me snorted. Get in line, sister.
“It’s cold,” she said flatly and pushed it in my direction.
“You know what? Let me get you a new one. On the house.”
Her eyes narrowed a tick. “How was the party last night?”
There it is. “Fine. You know how it is. The usual suspects.”
“Bastian knows how to throw a party, though. Doesn’t he?”
It’s a trap! I heard in General Ackbar’s voice in my head. “Sure,” I answered noncommittally. “Let me get that pie—”
“We’re still married, you know.”
I couldn’t hang on to the smile. “I do know.”
“Just wanted to make sure. I’d hate for you to get caught in the rumor mill over fucking a married man.”
She took a sip of her coffee, and I masked my shock at her dropping an eff with Pastor Coleburn within earshot.
“Duly noted.” Mercifully, Aggie made it back behind the counter. “Hey, Ag—Marnie here needs a piping hot piece of pie, if you’d please? My shift’s over.”
“My pleasure,” Aggie said with a smile as fake as mine, using her meaningless server phrase of choice on the worst sort of asshole to ever eat pie.
“Thanks,” I answered sweetly. “You have yourself a good day, Marnie, all right? I’ll let Seb know you stopped in.”
The look on her face was priceless. That mixture of shock, offense, and sheer fury was a heady concoction indeed.
Before she could respond, I turned on my heel and headed for the back, my hands shaking as I dumped a perfectly good piece of pie in the trash. When I made it to the lockers next to the office, Bettie appeared in the doorframe