Page 93 of Changing Rules

Shivers run down my spine, making my insides churn. I’m frozen, unable to turn around.

She’s back already?

“How do you know that?” Mom asks behind me.

“Jess. She posted a photo of the two of them this morning. Apparently, my best friend has secretly become friends withher.” Her words are dripping with contempt, which only proves that she doesn’t deserve my forgiveness.

“Alex,” Mom says, “did you know about this?”

“About what?” I grit out, wishing I’d blown right past Audrey the second I made it down the stairs.

“About Isabella’s return?”

Heaving a sigh, I finally turn and meet my mom’s gaze. “Yes. I knew she was coming back.”

“Are you planning to see her?” Audrey’s high-pitched voice grates on my nerves. I lock eyes with her.

“Ihopeto see her.”

That defiant look is back. “She has a boyfriend.”

It takes everything in me to keep from lashing out. “I just want to talk to her.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Mom asks, her voice gentle.

“Yes.” Without waiting for a response, I open the door and walk out of the house.

CHAPTER 25

HEALING PROCESS

BELLA

August

I takethat first sip of coffee and close my eyes, relishing the warmth and the rich flavor. It’s a comfort, and so is this place. I returned to Boston two weeks ago, and I’ve been spending as much time with my family as I can.

Staying with Aunt Millie makes that easy. I considered renting an apartment at first, but since I’ll only be here until May, signing a lease didn’t make sense.

Millie is thrilled I’m here. She barely leaves my side when I’m home. I don’t remember ever talking with her so much.

Ben, on the other hand, is struggling. His business is a mess. Several months ago, after Hannah—my replacement—quit, he begged me to do some admin work remotely. It helped a little, but now that I have more time to devote to it, I’ll really get things in order. On top of the behind-the-scenes work, I’ve agreed to help him with an event next week. But at least I’m busy, and the income will make my move to Santa Clara easier.

Jess and I met for lunch yesterday. She snapped photo after photo, and when she posted them on Instagram, I didn’t balk. I’m sure Audrey has seen them by now.

She had no idea Jess and I stayed in touch, because I asked Jess to keep it a secret. But now that I’m back, I don’t want to hide. I’m tired of living in the dark. Boston is my home too.

A new message pops up in my DMs, and the profile picture alone—a setting sun—gives me the ick. It’s a private account, one I don’t follow back. The person behind it reacts to my Stories and likes all my posts but has never engaged beyond that. I’ve thought about blocking them more than once, but they never say anything mean or harmful. If my profile were still set to private, I probably wouldn’t have accepted their follow request, but now that it’s public, I let it go. I’m sure there are other followers out there creeping the same way.

I’ve set my mug on the coffee table, intent on getting up and moving, when the front door opens.

“Bella?” my aunt calls out from the foyer.

“In the living room.”

Aunt Millie appears, wearing a knee-length navy blue dress with short sleeves and a radiant smile. “I thought you might have already left for the gym.”

“I’m getting ready to head there now, actually.”

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