Page 7 of Shadow Dance

“Stop making a fucking scene,” he says, his grip like iron. “This is ridiculous.”

“Ow, Callum!” I pull my arm, but he holds tight. “That hurts! Let go!”

Blinking, he releases a harsh exhale and drops my wrist. “Look, Manon needed a ride. That’s all.”

“That’sall?” My stomach knots so tight I can hardly catch my breath. That’s even worse. I thought they were just talking. “Then why’d you lie to me just now?”

At least he has the decency to look guilty. “Because I knew you’d freak out. Just like this.”

“Can you blame me? You were hanging out with the same girl who fucking tripped me, Callum. I can’t dance because of her. Of course, I’m freaking out!” Hurt throbs through me, from my heart right down to my ankle. I’m so tired of feeling gaslit about what went down between Manon and me. “Why would you drive her around after that?”

“What happened was fucked up, and I even told her that,” he says. “But she’s like a little sister to me, Mae. You know that. We ran into each other and her Uber was late, and she needed to get to class.”

“You expect me to believe that?” I ask, my heart pounding.

Callum lifts his chin. “Believe what you want. I’m not gonna keep explaining myself to you.”

“I’m done,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. Whether there’s something going on or not, the fact that he’d give her a ride when she’s the reason I sprained my ankle—and then lie about it—is just too much.

Something about my tone must alarm him, because he grabs my arm again. “What?”

“I said I’m done.” I look up at him. “Done with this. With you.”

His expression shifts from confusion to anger in a heartbeat. “Because I gave Manon a ride? Be for real.”

“Manon’s just the latest.”

“So, you’re just gonna walk away? After everything?”

“Yes,” I say firmly, my resolve hardening with every word. “I deserve better than this.”

“Better than what?” he asks with a harsh laugh. “All I’ve done is try to make things better for you, but you’ve had one foot out the door since the day you got to the Bay.”

“That is not true,” I say, pulling my arm away. “Don’t turn this around!”

“Did it or did it not take all kinds of convincing to get you to move out here?” he shouts. “We’ve been together for more than ten years, and you still had me begging like a fucking simp, Maeve.”

I shake my head, trying to deny his accusations, but I can’t. Because he’s right—maybe I haven’t given this a fair shot. But still… “What does any of that have to do with you and Manon?”

“There is no me and Manon!” he roars, sweeping the vase of flowers he bought me off the island. It crashes to the floor, shattering.

I gasp, flinching away as water and splinters of glass spray outward.

Griffin appears in the doorway, holding up his phone. “They called. We gotta go.”

“Gimme a minute,” he snaps, waiting until Griffin walks away before looking at me. I can see his chest rising and falling, the red splotches fading from his cheeks. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry you saw Manon and thought something was going on. I was just being nice to her, but if it’s going to piss you off, I won’t give rides to anybody else.”

Frustration prickles over me. I don’t even know where to start. How does he not understand why I’m upset? How isn’t it clear to him?

“And I’m sorry for not telling you right away, but I was trying to prevent this,” he says, gesturing to the broken vase. The front door opens, and Mac yells something to Griffin outside. “Anyway, I’ll clean this up later. Or you can, whatever.”

He leaves before I can say anything else, and I stand in the kitchen for a long time, watching the light change and the shadows move across the floor.

Chapter 3

Jaime

May

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