Page 88 of Twisted Lies

A chill races through me. “You don’t really believe that.”

Charlotte holds her stomach and lets out a tiny belch. She frowns at the soda, which is a third empty, and shakes her head. “Daddy returned to my mother. It’s what these Stonehaven men do. It’s what we tolerate until the divorce settlement.”

“You can’t believe that’s a good relationship,” I reply harshly, “I never said I was exclusive. Once someone says they’re exclusive, that’s it. That’s you and them together—nothing on the side.”

“But what if you can’t choose just one?” she asks me coolly. “This food is foul.” She bounces to a new topic. “I want Thai.”

We slide out of the booth, dumping the food back on the tray while the two guys watch us. We ignore them, not turning when they smack their lips to get our attention.

“Have you talked to Daddy lately?” Charlotte asks as I tip the food into the trash. If she hadn’t been here, I would’ve bagged it and taken it all home.

I talked to Howland recently about the storefront I want to rent, and we have an appointment to see it tomorrow. Charlotte doesn’t need to know that.

“He put some money into my account,” I answer as we wait for our ride back.

Charlotte taps her Thai order into her phone for pickup. “Daddy must be taking Mom’s death very hard,” she says, “He’s become even more distant. I went to visit the house last weekend, and he barely talked to me.”

We can’t climb back into that car until we have an understanding. “I need to know where we stand,” I tell Charlotte, “We’re sisters, and I don’t know how to act like one. I don’t want a boy to come between us before we even get started.”

“I’m hurt, but it’s not your fault,” she admits, watching the traffic pass by on the road. “I’ve never had to share anything before, least of all boys. I had to admit to myself he wasn’t the one when I watched him holding your hand. He’s never done that with me—be so attentive.” Her lips twist as she keeps her voice steady. “I want that more than I want him. I want someone who wants to be with me.”

The car pulls up too soon, ending the conversation that I wanted to continue having. When I finally hear what she feels instead of what she’s been told to think, my heart softens. We climb in, and Charlotte tells the driver to drive by the Thai place first. He starts to complain until she pulls out a twenty and hands it to him. I watch Charlotte and wonder how I can get her talking again.

“What are you going to do about Bryce?” I ask her.

“I’m going to dump his ass. I have to now. People are watching for my reaction.”

“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” I reply.

She smiles. “Thank you, but it’s not your fault. Not anyone’s, really. We all make choices, and some don’t work out, and when they don’t, you’ve got to move on and choose someone else.”

She’s right. But as the car starts moving, I can’t help but focus on one thing she said:

What if you can’t choose just one?

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