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Rose’s stomach tightened. “What happened last night?”

Heather’s eyes flickered over to Rose, and her smile faltered. “There was a party after work. I mean, there’s always a party after work, I guess. But this one was special.”

Rhett raised his shoulders. “It was all right.”

“Come on. Don’t be like that.” Heather pressed her fist against his upper arm. “Rhett’s our reigning shot-taking champion.”

Rose swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Too bad you couldn’t come,” Heather said to Rose, although she didn’t mean it. “Rhett said you had some late-night job?”

Rose considered telling Heather how much money she’d made last night but then decided it would sound crass. “Yeah, I had to work.”

“Well, anyway. Good to see you out and about. What’s your secret, Rhett? I look like I crawled out of bed a few minutes ago,” Heather said, although it was clear she didn’t feel that way about herself. Heather looked gorgeous; even Rose had to admit that.

“Had to go to church,” Rhett said, his smile triumphant. “Need my mother to think I’m still the fine, upstanding guy she raised.”

Heather winked. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

She left after that, shimmying her hips as she moved away from them and headed down the boardwalk. Rose’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and jealousy. What had happened last night? She burned to know. But she didn’t want to show Rhett how terrified she was of losing him.

“Last night sounds fun?” Rose said finally, her tone light.

“Um, yeah. It was.” Rhett touched his hair. “Listen, Rose. I’ve been sort of sick about us lately.”

Rose took a breath. She sensed it coming: Rhett had asked her to meet after church to break up with her. But what if she broke up with him first? That would mean she’d won, right?

“The thing is, Rhett,” Rose began hurriedly. “I don’t think we make each other happy anymore.”

Rhett closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped.

Rose wondered, with a lurch, if she’d been overly confident. Maybe Rhett hadn’t wanted to say what she’d thought he’d planned to say. But she supposed it didn’t matter, now. They were free-falling toward a breakup.

“And I don’t think we should spend as much time together as we used to,” she whispered. “Maybe we should even- I don’t know. Break up?”

Rhett wet his lips and took a tentative step away from her, as though it pained him.

“You’ve been thinking it, too,” Rose said.

Rhett didn’t answer. He raised his chin toward the sky. Rose considered telling him to chase Heather, to go after the woman he clearly wanted more than Rose, but she couldn’t bring herself to. She thought she was going to throw up.

“Can I call you sometimes?” she asked suddenly, her voice overwhelmingly chummy. “I mean, when you go to art school. Can I reach out to you? Sometimes?”

Rhett took another step back, as though she were a burning building he needed to get away from. “I don’t know,” he said. It was clear that she’d hurt him just as badly as she’d wanted to.

But why had she wanted to again? Why had she wanted to hurt Rhett, her darling Rhett, of all people? She was losing her grip on reality.

Rose knew it was time to get away from him, if only to save face. It was just like last night at the resort party, when she’d run to the bathroom and hid herself away. “I’d better head back. Take care of yourself, Rhett,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. But he pulled away at the last moment, so her arm waved through the air and dropped.

All the way back home, Rose sobbed into her hands, careful not to let passers-by see how upset she was. She didn’t want news of this to get back to her mother, Rhett, or Heather. Speaking of Heather—she’d always thought something was going on between Rhett and Heather. She’d always thought, at the very least, that Heather had a massive crush on Rhett. Now, maybe, Rhett and Heather could be happy together. Now, with Rose out of the way, Rhett could have the life he always dreamed of.

Of course, it wasn’t till Rose was around the corner from her house that she remembered that nobody at the resort party had “discovered” her last night. Her dreams and visions of moving on from Rhett and becoming something or someone in Hollywood or New York City were just that: dreams. She’d been a fool to think she was better than her relationship with Rhett. First, she’d pushed him away, then she’d slammed the door on their love. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and now, he was gone.

It was no small miracle that Rose had to work at the resort that evening. It was a typical shift, one that involved delivering drinks, towels, and snacks to the less-than-elite guests. Throughout, she thought she spotted people from last night’s party, many of whom had bags beneath their eyes and proof of how little they’d slept. But she was surprised by how easy it was to pretend that last night hadn’t happened, that this particular Nantucket resort had always been bathed in light and had never known the chaos of darkness.

Rose prayed that she wouldn’t run into the woman who’d made fun of her so terribly, who’d made her out to be a fool. She wasn’t sure her heart could take it.

Toward the end of her shift, the bartender told Rose to sit down and have a cocktail “on the house.”