Good God, that’s just what I tried. She knew I would. I feel a fool.
“He didn’t want to be reasoned with,” I hiss. “He was going to the police. And I had to protect Mama from that worry. You know how weak her heart is!”
Sam curses under her breath, then speaks more calmly. “I didn’t think. But you’re right. Mama wouldn’t take it well.” She sounds almost sorry. Almost.
“No shit, Sam.”
I can practically see her narrowing her eyes in a glare.
“But you didn’t need to work for him. He was bluffing.”
“I was there, Sam. He was ready to make that call.”
“He was bluffing. Macon loves Mama, as much as that man can love anybody. He wouldn’t do anything to risk her health.” She snorts. “You forget, I know him. More than anyone.”
Blanching, I fall back against the chair. My gaze goes blindly to the ocean beyond as that feeling of foolishness increases. In the prideful little corners of my mind, I always thought I knew Macon better than anyone, that I understood him on some weird, not entirely safe level. But Sam is right; she hung out with him all the time. Despite what Macon said about them not truly liking each other, they were partners in crime for their entire childhoods.
I don’t have that with Macon. I don’t even have that with Sam.
The shy, lonely, awkward girl I was returns full force. My lower lip trembles. I bite down hard. I will not cry. I haven’t all these years. I’m not about to start now. Especially for something so useless as being jealous of Sam and Macon.
Macon’s voice whispers in my head, “Delilah, you are the only person alive who truly knows me for me.”
He said it with such conviction.
She’s talking again, more persuasive now that she’s scored a direct hit. “You cannot trust him, Dee. Do you hear? He’s a professional actor and a manipulative son of a bitch.”
“I can’t pretend anymore.”
He was sincere. I’d know it if he wasn’t.
Despite my unsettled thoughts, I scoff. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“Which means I know what I’m talking about. Do you know how many times I witnessed him bullshit someone? He’d tell them exactly what they wanted to hear, and they’d fall right into his palm.”
He was Sam’s boyfriend for so long. What am I doing even thinking of taking up with Macon? It violates sister code. Ex-boyfriends are definitely off limits. Especially Macon. I was the third wheel in their relationship; most of the time, I was their enemy, the outlier in their united front of all things anti-Delilah.
The writhing feeling within takes a nauseating turn, and I gulp down juice.
A sigh gusts from her end of the phone. “I’m sorry that you ended up in this position. I truly didn’t realize you’d do this for me.”
“I did it for Mama,” I say automatically, my voice wooden. I feel as hollow and brittle as an old log. My lips feel numb.
“Whatever the case,” she says, tossing the distinction away. “I’m sorry. But you texted that you like Macon. Don’t. He’s never cared for you. Did you forget about prom?”
I hadn’t forgotten. I just didn’t want to think about that anymore. But the girl in me? She’s curling in on herself, Sam’s reminders burning through the skin like so much acid. I don’t want to believe Sam. I want to believe in Macon.
“If he’s acting kind,” Sam says, “it’s to keep you happy and in your place.”
Funny thing is, she might as well be talking about herself. That knowledge depresses me. “He’s not that good of an actor, Sam. You forget, I know him too. Maybe not as well as you do . . .” Everything in me screams out that it’s not true; I do know him better. But is that truth or vanity talking? “I know when he’s bullshitting and when he’s not.”
“What exactly is going on between you two?” Suspicion laces her voice.
I don’t tell her about last night, the kissing, the growing attraction. I don’t tell her about getting closer to Macon or the way he’s opening up to me. It would feel like a betrayal. At some point, my loyalties have shifted.
“A working arrangement.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. We’re more than that. More. “Given the circumstances, Macon has been really good about everything.”
God, if only that point would sink into my head too. Stupid insecurities. Stupid Sam for stirring them up.