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“It’s funny how some people are so judgmental about other people’s life choices, and then they go and make the shittiest choices possible. Like sleeping with a married man that, hey, they also work with.” Her voice is as sharp as a blade. “Some people will knock you for spending any time living at home, and then what do you know—they have to live at home. It’s like,” her eyes lift skyward, as if searching her memory, “what’s that word, when people get exactly what’s coming to them?” She snaps her fingers. “Karma.”
Taylor isn’t wrong. I have been terrible to her. We’ve been terrible to each other.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to sit here and admit that in front of my entire family and Luke. Hot embarrassment sweeps through me. I’m lightheaded with the heat of it.
I set my napkin down. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” I push my chair back and half jog out of the house, through the front office, down the porch, out into the cold night, the brisk air stinging my heated cheeks. I wish I could run away from the past just as easily.
ChapterTwelve
Luke
Shocked silence permeates the air, the aftermath of released tension echoing through us like the reverberation after a bomb has gone off. The unease is so thick I could reach my hand out and grab it.
Finley is the first to speak. “Taylor, I—”
Taylor stands with an abrupt force, her chair screeching across the wood floor. “Don’t start with me. You have no idea what she’s put me through. She deserved all that and then some.” She stalks out, going into the kitchen. A few seconds later, the side door slams.
Finley’s eyes fall shut. She rests her elbows on the table, her hands clenched together in front of her face like she’s praying. She blows out a breath. When she opens her eyes and looks over at me, they’re rimmed in red. “I’m really sorry about all of this, Luke. They have some history, you know, things to work out. It’s complicated.”
“It’s fine,” I say, not sure how else to respond.
Archer reaches over, rubbing Finley’s shoulder. “Do you need—”
She shifts away from him, shaking her head. “I think I have to—I’m sorry, excuse me.” She puts her napkin down and exits. Her footsteps thump up the stairs a few seconds later.
Archer stares after her, concern etched into his expression.
After a second, Jake shrugs and reaches across the table, grabbing Mindy’s plate and spooning the rest of her pasta onto his dish. He then picks up Taylor’s and repeats the movement. Then he picks up Finley’s.
Archer cuts him a sharp look. “Are you serious right now?”
“Oh, sorry.” He lifts up Finley’s plate. “You want to get in on this?”
Archer presses the fingers of his right hand to his temple. “No. What is wrong with you?”
Jake shrugs. “Hey, when you grow up in a household with a lot of siblings, you eat what you can, whenever you can. People think girls eat less, but that is not true, especially when there’s five of them. You should have seen them when they were teenagers. They were like a pack of starving, perfume-drenched wolves in crop tops.”
I can’t help but laugh, and after a second, Archer chuckles as well.
“I know what you mean,” I say. “My sister Vanessa could outeat a grown man when she was thirteen, even though she didn’t weigh more than 80 pounds soaking wet.”
Jake grins at me. “I’m not even surprised. I’m telling you, it’s a teenage girl thing. When Aria was—” Like a switch being thrown, he cuts off, the words chopped midsentence. The smile drops, his face going blank. The happy, joking guy who was sitting there a second ago has completely disappeared.
“Jake—” Archer starts.
Jake stands. “I’ve got to—I’ll check on Finley.”
He disappears, jogging up the stairs.
Baffled, I look over at Archer.
His eyes fall shut, his fingers steepled in front of his face, elbows on the table.
“Is he okay? Did I say something wrong?”
“Yes. No.” He opens his eyes, his hands falling onto the table. “I don’t know.”
“I feel like I’ve been dropped in the middle of a story and missed the first half.”
