Page 85 of Fierce Love
“We were cruel, and while we didn’t know you were standing there, it doesn’t excuse how we behaved. No one should have said that to you or about you.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” In New York, I faced my fair share of people, particularly women, who enjoyed talking about others when they weren’t around. It wasn’t a behavior I ever participated in, since I fully understood what it meant to be on the other end.
“All these years, I was waiting to hear you were back on the island or even that Nate had finally left the island to reunite with you.”
I swallow, and now Ireallydon’t know what to say.
“I just wanted the opportunity to apologize. The expression on your face that night—it’s weighed heavy on me, and I hope what we said, what we implied, didn’t have anything to do with why you and Nate broke up.”
“It didn’t.” At least that I can say with certainty, even if women like her are why I’m not sure I could ever be comfortable in Nate’s inner circle.
“A lot of us have grown up since then.” She gives a self-conscious laugh. “Of course we have, right? But we’re trying to raise our kids better.”
“Kinsley’s felt quite accepted here,” I admit. Even with the wealth gaps, she hasn’t felt excluded from anything or singled out. But I’ve never been quite sure if that’s because Kinsley’s on the fringes of the glow from the Tuckers and Summersets. Would people on this island dare to make enemies with someone tied so closely to such big families? I doubt it.
“I was glad to hear you and your sister were back,” she says. “Nate was never quite the same after you left. Some of the spark dimmed, but I can see it again in him tonight. He even looks lighter, as though he’s not carrying some invisible weight anymore.”
Every word is a paper cut across my consciousness, and I struggle not to visibly flinch at each one. The damage I did to Nate when I left causes a sharp ache across my chest. Celia must have seen the impact on Nate. She couldn’t have been blind to his suffering.
“If you decide to stay on the island, I’d love to see whether we’d mesh as friends. If you’re willing. I think there are ways into society that maybe weren’t there before. If your sister has found that to be true, then I hope it really is.”
“Sorry,” I say, only half listening, still processing. “What’s your name again?”
“Sienna.” She visibly swallows. “I’ve known Nate a long time.”
The girl who was crying at prom, the one everyone was consoling by talking shit about me. “Are you still friends with the girls from prom?”
“Some of them,” she says. “But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become better at figuring out what’s good for me and what and who should be left in the past.”
Thatis a lesson I’m still trying to navigate. “And you were able to do that?”
“Leaving the toxic behind is hard,” she says with a sigh. “Toxic clings, doesn’t it? Makes you feel like you’re the problem.” Shelets out a little laugh. “But I’ve been much happier since I let those influences go.”
“We can get lunch,” I say on impulse. Maybe Sienna and I have more in common than I ever might have thought. High school was a long time ago, and maybe it’s time I moved beyond everything that happened back then. Maybe I need to let some of my preconceived notions and past feelings about those in Nate’s circle go too.
This conversation just solidifies the truth I’ve been putting off seeing. I can’t leave the island again. Knowing what I did to Nate, what I can’t do again, means I have to take some risks. He can’t be the only one putting himself in emotional danger. It’s not fair.
Despite the consequences, I need to find some way to tell Nate what happened all those years ago, find the strength to betray the help Celia gave and still gives to me. Maybe Nate won’t understand. Maybe he won’t forgive me for trying my best during an impossible situation.
My only hope is that, once he knows it all, he still loves me too much to let me go, and I realize that depending on that is its own kind of cruelty.
Chapter Forty
Nathaniel
During the last week in the office and at home, Hollyn has been on edge. Filming is the only time where she seems able to settle into some version of herself that I don’t find concerning. The one time I tried to ask her what was going on, she said she was working up the nerve to talk to me, but she wasn’t quite there yet.
I wasn’t sure how to take that when she said it, and I’m still not sure how to respond as we drive to her aunt’s apartment on Saturday. Whatever is going on in her head is obviously causing her a lot of anxiety, and I just wish she’d spit it out. But I’ve also learned that patience goes a long way with Hollyn. When I push too hard, she backpedals, so I can pretend to be cool, calm, and collected, while the opposite emotions rage inside me.
“Do you have a plan of attack for this?” I ask as I park in the lot behind the apartment building.
“I’ll do all the personal stuff—the rest of her clothes, knickknacks, sentimental pieces I haven’t dealt with yet. She kept a lot of old bills and whatnot that need to be shredded. It’s mindless work, but if you don’t mind…?” She opens her car door and climbs out.
“I can feed paper through a shredder, no problem. Just point me in the direction of whatever stack I can tackle.” I hold out my hand for hers as she rounds the vehicle.
A man and a woman climb out of Owen’s security car and follow us toward the building. To make sure their focus is on the right place, we’re supposed to pretend they aren’t there. I find that much easier when they’re in the car, but I know this building is a hotspot of potential activity against me or Hollyn. I haven’t said anything to her, but there have been a couple of attempted break-ins at the building. The area is rough for Bellerive, so it could be a coincidence, or it could be Mickie Davis at work. Hard to say.
When Hollyn uses her new key to unlock the door, I step through first. The living room is covered in clothes, papers, old seasonal decorations—more stuff than it feels possible for this apartment to hold. Verna never seemed like a pack rat.
