Page 88 of Plotting Summer

“I really am sorry, Bridget,” I say as she passes.

She pauses, meeting my gaze, and I can see I’m not the only one on the verge of tears. “How would you feel if you were immortalized in a book as a villain?”

Her words are a direct hit, knocking the wind from my lungs. I never would have thought a flippant choice I made years ago could do such damage. That it would come to cause someone else pain.

A tear breaks free, and Bridget swipes it before stepping past me with Cat at her side.

The entire room is unnervingly quiet with their exit, and everyone is staring at me.

The only movement is Virginia removing her coke bottle glasses, rubbing the hem of her shirt across her lenses, and placing them back on. “Whoa, talk about awkward.” She clears her throat and lifts the book from her lap. “But any chance I can get you to sign my copy?”

“Same!” Sandra and Kathy say in unison, their faces beaming with an excitement that contradicts the scene they were witness to.

I stand up, a flood of emotion welling inside of me. “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

Tears are already streaming down my cheeks when Tristan leads me into his office. He closes the door behind us and pulls me into his embrace. I bury my face into his chest. I can’t talk through my sobs, but Tristan holds me, allowing me as long as I need.

Several minutes later, there’s a knock on his door, and he glances down at me. “Do you want me to get that?”

I nod, a shuddering breath escaping me. “It’s probably Tala or Jane.”

Sure enough, when he opens it, both Tala and Jane step inside, their looks of pity doing nothing to ease my distress.

“Oh, sweetie.” Tala wraps her arms around me, and Jane does likewise, the two of them sandwiching me in a hug that manages to refill my depleted reservoir of tears.

“At least the hardest part is over,” Jane says. “And once the initial shock settles, everyone will be more than fine with it. Most of them already are.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know why I thought this was going to be a good idea. I shouldn’t have come tonight.”

Tala runs a hand through my hair. “Whether you were here or not, Bridget would have been, and she would have said something.”

Jane nods. “It was better that you were able to say something. To apologize. And it didn’t hurt that Tristan was there.”

“How did you know to come when you did?” Tala asks before I have a chance to.

“I texted my mom to see how book club was going. She replied that she thought Capri was about to tell everyone she was Sunny Palmer, but Bridget showed up. When I heard that, I decided to head over from my parents’ in case Capri ended up wanting to leave earlier than she’d anticipated. So I was actually in my office when my mom texted a second time to say Bridget had read the book. That’s when I figured I might be needed. Not that Capri couldn’t hold her own, but I worried Bridget might attempt to make me out to be the victim. I wanted her and everyone else to know that isn’t the case.”

I take hold of Tristan’s hand, excessively grateful for his forethought. “All things considered, Bridget handled everything fairly well.” Apparently I feel the need to defend Bridget after what I just put her through.

“She tends to be quick to anger, but she’s relatively level-headed once those feelings pass,” Tristan says, and I try not to care that he knows her so well. “Not that she’ll come around to the idea, but she’ll move on.”

“And, so you know,” Jane says, “Cat came back inside. I think she just wanted Bridget to feel supported, but she also asked how you’re doing. And Holland asked me to give you a hug for her.”

Another knock sends Tala to the door this time, and she cracks it open. “It’s Grandma,” she says, glancing back at me as though she’s asking for permission, but she’s already opened the door wide enough to let her in. And Virginia with her.

“How are you, my love?” Grandma says, running a hand over my tear-streaked face. “You were so brave.”

My shoulders drop. “It’s not bravery when you’re forced into a confession.”

“And what a confession that was,” Virginia says with a little laugh. “With how it all played out, it’s going to spread through the island like wildfire.”

Jane winces. “Probably more than just the island.”

Before dread at the thought fully consumes me, Tala points at me. “Don’t think about that. What’s the game plan?”

“It had been to make the announcement in a few days—giving some time for the news to spread organically so it doesn’t take the island by surprise when it hits social media and news outlets. But now …” I shrug. “I’ll call Maven to see what she suggests.” I pull in a slow breath. Whatever she says, I’m guessing life as I know it is about to implode.

Sunlight is seeping through the edges of the blinds, but I don’t get out of bed. I want to put off the reality of today as long as possible. Late last night, with the help of my support team—Tala, Jane, and Tristan—I drafted an announcement for Maven to send out to her news sources and to post on social media and to my newsletter. Once she looks it over (she likely already has but I haven’t checked my email yet) and modifies anything that needs changing, I’ll give her the green light to share my secret identity. And the thought is terrifying. I’m a creature of habit and comfort, and the prospect of being known is entirely unsettling. Especially since I have no idea what to expect, and my mind is far too willing to fill in the blanks.