puppet on a string. Hated the way she constantly chewed gum and snapped it and tried to change the music to some obscure band none of us had ever heard of.”
Slowly, Ethan turned to face her.
“But do you want to know what I really hated?” Her voice was low, and at first, she wasn’t sure Ethan heard her. But after a few moments, he walked over and slid onto the arm of the sofa, his dark eyes on her.
“What?”
“I hated how she acted as if she owned you. Like her being there with you meant you guys were a thing. Meant that she was more than just the girl you were having sex with.” Her voice trailed off. “I hated knowing you guys were in the next room having all that sex, and I hated myself for feeling that way. I mean, Rick and I were together, and I was happy, and you were our best friend, but…”
“But what?” he asked, voice rough.
“But there was a part of me that felt like you and I had a connection, something that went beyond being just friends, and she was screwing it all up.” She leaned forward. “Do you remember what happened the Saturday night up there? You and Tandy got into a fight, and she went off into the woods. Rick went after her because you refused, and I was pissed at Rick for doing that. I mean, I was his girlfriend, and on top of that, she’d been a dick to you. Tried to get you jealous by dancing too close to Cam Booker and then caused a fight when you did nothing. Do your rememb—”
“I kissed you,” he said roughly.
She swallowed, tried to clear the knot in her throat, and nodded. “You did. And I kissed you back. At the time, I was too shocked to do or say anything other than blame the booze and the fight and all that heightened emotion. The next day, we laughed it off as if it didn’t mean anything, and we decided not to tell Rick or Tandy because it didn’t matter. It was a drunken stupid thing.
“But I thought about that kiss for a long time afterward. I thought about it whenever you brought some new girl home from college or picked up some woman in a bar and brought her to a party.” She exhaled. “I thought about it for the longest time until I realized there was no point. I was with Rick, and you and I were just friends. I had no right to feel anything when it came to you and the women you kept company with. I pretended it didn’t matter, and I felt like I was betraying Rick because it did. It confused me so much that I pushed it to the back of my mind and forgot about it.”
She got to her feet and touched his cheek. “So when I ask you what Paul Davenport said to piss you off, you don’t have to answer, because I already know. Or at least I’m pretty sure what direction that conversation took. We’ve given the whole town something to talk about, and I don’t care about any of that because I’ve got so many other things to think about. Rick’s accident and his existence in that in-between world for five years taught me something. And I know it sounds cliché and that it’s the plot of every single sappy movie or love song or whatever, but life is too short. It’s too short to care what people think or not to take a chance on something that could bring happiness because of what people think. I’m guilty of it. We all are, except for the few who really don’t give a fuck.”
Her hand dropped. “I want to be one of those rare few. I’m done living my life for everyone but myself. There’s too much at stake.” She cradled her belly. “This thing between you and me has always been there.” She took a step back, about to lay herself bare.
“And I think Rick knew it. I think that’s why he felt he could do the things he did, and I’m sure he felt bad about it. I saw it in his eyes every single time he lied to me. I think he knew you’d always be there. That if he screwed up so badly and broke me, you’d be the one to pick up the pieces and glue me back together. He knew I’d be