Page 181 of Between the Lines

“This guy could be bad news or the love of your life, I really don’t know. But Charlotte, you’ve endured a lot without ever speaking up.”

I look at her. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve never tried to change the narrative.”

“Because I can’t. I couldn’t back then, and how could I now? People have already made up their minds.”

“People can change them,” she says. “Not that their opinions should matter. Not really. It’s more that… people in production manipulated events so they could sell good TV. It wasn’t thetruth.”

“I’m well aware of that.” My voice comes out low. “It’s just, how would it help if I tell my side of events? It would just attract even more attention.”

“It would,” she agrees. Logical, as always. “In the moment. But after, the hype will die down, and you’ll be left with more peace.” She nudges me with her elbow. “Maybe. Not that I know if that’s true.”

I shoot her a crooked grin. “Way to caveat your advice.”

“I always do,” she says. “Give someone very direct, potentially life-changing advice, and then bookend it with ‘but what do I know?’ so they can’t hold it against me if it backfires.”

“Clever.”

“I know.” She nudges me again. “This isn’t like last time.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Really? Because my parents have already gotten calls from two of my aunts and one uncle, wondering if I’m well. If I know what I’m doing. Why would I ever date the man who runs the production company forThe Gamble.”

“Right. And what happens later? They go on with their lives. And you’ll have to go on with yours.” Esmé wraps an arm around my shoulders.

I’m glad she’s here.

She lives back in Elmhurst now, having returned just a few years ago. At the time I didn’t understand the decision. Why would you give up Seattle for a small town?

But in the distance, birds sing high up in the trees. A couple of boys pass a soccer ball on the field.

“You can’t make life decisions based on other people’s fleeting thoughts,” she tells me.

I’m quiet for a long moment. “You’re right. It’s just… it’s scary to be vulnerable.”

She chuckles faintly. “Of course it is. Do you think it’s any different for the rest of us?”

“Why… do you all do it, then?”

“Because the cost of doing nothing is too high.” She looks down at her hand, resting on her lap. Her wedding band glints in the sunlight. “It took me a very long time to open up to Tim. Somehow, he had the patience to let that be okay.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty friend,” I say.

She straightens. “What? Of course you haven’t.”

I nod at her. “I have. And probably a shitty daughter, too. And cousin, and granddaughter. I’ve spent so many years running and checking in only when it suited me. Not when the other people might have needed me.”

“You’re giving yourself too little credit,” she tells me. My beautiful best friend, one who’s helped me through so much of life’s hardships.

A fierce desire to be there for her in return hits me. Her life is beautiful, happy, and safe—but I will be there regardless, should that ever change.

“I’m sorry.” I grip her hand and take a deep breath. “I also think you may be right.”

CHAPTER 65

CHARLOTTE

My parents and I are playing Uno in the living room. I haven’t done this in years. But it used to be our thing during the summer and winter vacations at my grandparents’ cabin.

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