Page 92 of Yes No Maybe

“I wanted to be with you! I’m sorry, Rowan. I didn’t think it mattered. Why should it? That stupid story doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes… everything. You play a role for your students, a role for every audience, a role for me.”

I stand up, dropping my napkin over my plate. I tuck my purse under my arm. “I love you, Dean. Evenwiththe lie, I love you. But we aren’t right for each other. My answer is no. And that you’d even consider a part in Jack’s movie tells me your answer is no, too.”

As I climb awkwardly into Mira’s mini-van, she says, “Aw, you’re wearing yourfuck-medress. You okay?”

“Fine.” I lump in the passenger seat. “Dean and I are over.”

TheI-told-you-sosI expect don’t come. She only nods.

I rest my head against the cold window, and several silent minutes pass before Mira clears her throat. “Um, there’s something I should tell you. Can you handle more bad news?”

I sit up. “Tell me.”

“Eddie Sweet’s release has been moved up. He’s getting out.”

“When?”

“End of the week. It’s thanks to you. Well, youandLt. Wright. He went to see Eddie after his cousins were arrested and talked him into not covering for them anymore. Eddie’s trading information for an early release. It’s good news, really.”

“You’re right. Sara will be thrilled and relieved. We need something to celebrate. Let’s tell her when we get home.”

Mira nods, side-eyeing me. “You’re freaking me out with your whole deadpan thing. Sure you’re okay?”

“I’m tired. Pissed. But for the first time in months, I have clarity. I’ll be fine.”

The words come out confidently, like a mantra I’m programming myself to believe. I long to be home, snuggling with Edgar and watching mindless TV with Mom and Sara over bowls of ice cream.

But pulling into the driveway, the little house doesn’t offer its usual relief—it’s not home anymore. My neighbors occupy Jack’s front porch almost exactly as I left them—it hasn’t been long.

All eyes follow us as we exit Mira’s minivan. I feel on stage again, under scrutiny, especially since it’s obvious that the night went badly.

Well, obvious to most of them.

“Oh, Rowan, how’d it—”

“Vernon, no,” Rose snaps.

Mira wraps her arm around me as we walk to the front door, and I lean against her like I’ve done hundreds of times before.

But Jack misses the unspoken understanding that I should be left alone—or thinks it doesn’t apply to him. He reaches us halfway up the walk, bounding into our path.

“Rowan, are you okay? What happened?”

His concern feels like manipulation, somehow layering irritation atop my cold disappointment. Discovering Dean’s lie leaves me questioning everything between us. Consoling me after Grandpa Ro died was probably him gathering material, vampire-biting my grief. Then, I think of that damn proposal. A packed auditorium, bigwigs, TV coverage, and Dean—the hero,generouslyloving the woman who isn’t easy to love. It’d been all about him. Before him, it’d all been about Trent.

With Jack blocking our path, insisting on talking, I realize—I have a type.

“It’s not a good time, Jack,” Mira says.

Her soft warning only encourages him. “Let me help. I could—”

“You’ve done enough.” My freaky calmness makes a stunning return. I lock eyes with him, determined for my words to sink in. “Dean sends his heartfelt thanks for the part in your movie. How clever and entitled of you to plot the demise of my relationship like that. How could you be so selfish and underhanded? You made everything about you—that’swhat you do. That’s what all guys do, I guess. Maybe that should be the theme of your next novel.Bareis what womenwantto feel with someone if only men didn’t wreck their trusteverytime. Leave me alone.”

“Go home, Jack,” Mira says more sternly as she pulls me around him. Mom meets us at the front door, and we lock it behind us.

Thirty

---