Page 2 of My Star-Crossed Summer

She shrugs. “All the essentials. Including Logan’s favorite scotch.”

“Can’t hurt,” I say, taking a big sip. “I feel like I’ve been hurled from a catapult.”

Gwen’s navy dress fans around her. She's effortlessly beautiful, all curves and soft edges. Her hair’s cut in a cute bob that makes the curls extra bouncy—something my hair will never achieve. Tonight, I coaxed mine into waves, but as I run my fingers through it now, I pull out a couple of twigs.

“So what drove you to the emergency exit?” Gwen asks, sipping from the flask. “Usually, I’m the one who bails early.”

“First Mom tried to get Sheila Jenkins to hire me—after telling her a masterful story about how Theo bullied me out of Rayanne’s firm after I dumped him.”

“Ugh,” she groans.

“Agreed. I’d rather bathe in lava than work for Sheila Jenkins. Her sales record is amazing, but she’s about as fun to be around as a nest of angry hornets that have been set on fire.”

“Didn’t her partner just leave?”

“Yep. Opened her own firm in Florida. And she’s crushing it.” I take another sip of scotch, and it burns a path all the way tomy belly. “Then Mom told Marcia Roberts that I dumped Theo because he left me—and I quote—unfulfilled.”

She snorts. “Well, that’s true. In a sense.”

“She’ll do anything to cover up my mistakes to save her precious reputation,” I groan. “Theo’s a jerk, but I don’t love having Mom go into jackal mode and use the rumor mill to spread lies.”

“If anyone deserves to see Mom reach her final form, it’s Theo,” Gwen says. “I’d argue he’s getting precisely what he earned.”

Gwen’s accustomed to being the target of our mother’s ire even more than I am. Mom expected both of us to be flawless: from hourglass figures and straight-As to impressive careers and trophy husbands. Gwen caught more scorn because she openly defied Mom’s wishes, whereas I caved because it meant less fighting. When Gwen opened a bakery, I let Mom push me into real estate. When Gwen dated guys with tattoos and scruffy beards, I went out with the boring sons of Mom’s friends just to keep the peace. Now that Gwen’s dating Logan and running a booming business, some of the heat’s off her. But that means it’s squarely on me.

“That’s how Mom works,” Gwen says. “She thinks if she pulls enough strings, she can fix what’s broken.”

I snort. “Yeah. Right now, she thinks the broken thing is me.”

“She’s wrong,” Gwen says, her blue eyes glittering.

“Maybe,” I mutter. My breakup was no tragedy, and I refuse to play the sad, wounded woman—a shell of a human at age twenty-eight. Mom thought Theo was my perfect match, but that’s because he shared her impossible standards for every part of his life—including me. And when I finally realized that Theo was resentful of my success and that his version of marriage meant me giving up my career—well, that made leaving him a no-brainer.

“Mom got me that job with Rayanne,” I confess. “They were sorority sisters at Vanderbilt back in the day.”

“But Rayanne kept you on because you’re excellent at what you do. Mom had nothing to do with that part.”

I shake my head. “It set a bad precedent.” I’d let Mom pull those strings when I was twenty-three because I was struggling in a dead-end temp job and wanted to stop living off ramen noodles and grilled cheese sandwiches. Back then, I’d thought she was truly trying to help me, but now I know better. She was embarrassed that I wasn’t making a name for myself fast enough. Mom’s always been controlling of both me and Gwen, but I’d assumed it would stop when we were out of college.

I was dead wrong on that one.

“I never should have accepted her…help,” I say, choking on the last word.

Gwen lifts a brow. “We both know how it would have gone if you hadn’t. She’d rather die than stop holding us to her impossible standards.” She smoothes a fold in her dress. “She thinks that molding you into a version of herself is going to make you a success and preserve her legacy.”

“That is literally my worst nightmare.”

She gives me a sad smile as the night birds twitter around us, the leaves rustling in the warm breeze. This is one of those perfect spring nights where the air’s losing its chill and the stars shine a bit brighter. Everywhere you look, there are blossoming flowers and new leaves, and the whole world feels alive with new growth. Spring always makes me feel hopeful and tenacious, like I can tackle anything.

At least, it used to make me feel that way.

“She said she didn’t raise me to be a quitter,” I grumble. “Told me I run as soon as things get hard.”

Gwen frowns. “Leaving a toxic relationship is not being a quitter. You know that.”

“I told her I was doing what was best for me.”

She points her finger at me. “That’s exactly right. And don’t ever forget it.”

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