Page 142 of Tell Me It’s Right

“The house down the street has a blow-up turkey!” Liam’s little brother Casey skids around the corner, his socks sliding onthe wood floor. He barely acknowledges anyone else in the room, his eyes locked on his mom. “Why didn’t we bring one of those?”

Christine pats his head. “Next year.”

Ah, so they’re responsible for the house looking like a craft store. I should’ve known.

My eyes dart the way Casey had come, but there’s no one else there.

“Christine had a wonderful idea,” says Mom, drawing my attention to her. “Everything that’s safe for you to eat is on a white plate. The red ones have meat.”

I eye the spread covering every inch of the kitchen, my heart warming at the number of white plates. It seems there are two versions of everything.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say quietly.

“Oh, I had plenty of help! Now can you start carrying these into the dining room? We’re starting in twenty minutes!”

Christine and I get to work laying the dishes along the runner in the center of the table. Every time I head to the kitchen for another plate, by the time I make it back, she’s rearranged everything I brought in the previous trip. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye as I set the final bowl of cranberry sauce down.

I’ve never spent much time around her, and definitely not alone. I don’t know if I’ve ever realized howyoungshe is. She looks far too expensive and polished to be in this house. And as far as I know, despite Liam’s love for Casey, he and Christine have never been close. Sowhy?—

“Casey’s father and I are getting a divorce,” she says without looking at me.

I freeze.

“I don’t speak with my family. Casey and I were going to spend today at the hotel we’ve been living out of, until Liam…well, I hope you don’t mind that he invited us.”

“Of course not.”

The entire house reverberates as the front door bangs open and several sets of feet kick off shoes in the entrance. “We’re back! We’re back!” calls Leo. “Crisis averted!”

I glance sideways at Christine. “Crisis?”

She smirks. “Your brother forgot the alcohol at home.”

Alcohol.Thank God.

“Not sure you have enough there, man.”

My body does a full reset at the sound of his voice.

Someone scoffs. “This whole case is just for him.” Is that Asher?

“Excuse me,” I murmur before hurrying in the opposite direction of the voices and slipping into the bathroom.

The voices continue, muffled behind the door, punctuated with the occasional laugh. My hands tremble as I fill them with water in the sink, focusing on the cold against the inside of my wrists.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about this day. Dreamed about it.

Had nightmares about it.

Three months is a long time. A lot can happen. A lot can change. I know I’ve changed.

It’s longer than we were together in the first place, though it doesn’t feel like it. That summer feels like it lasted forever.

But I’m not naïve. The distance, the time, the no contact—it could have given him clarity. Made him realize he was just swept up in the moment with me.

He could have changed his mind by now.

He could have moved on.