Page 91 of Written in the Stars
Elle’s heart stopped. Eavesdropping was wrong, but she was weak.
Darcy’s scoff came out strangled. “You’re drunk.”
“I said I’m not.” Gillian teetered on her heels. “Not really.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re saying you’re not in love with her?” her mom asked.
Regret hastened through Elle’s veins like poison. She should’ve walked away. She shouldn’t have eavesdropped. She didn’t want to hear anything more but she couldn’t move. Anchored to the floor like cinder blocks, her feet wouldn’t budge.
“We’ve been dating a month and a half, if you can even call it that.” Darcy shook her head. “I’m just having fun. Of course I’m not in love with her. Don’t... don’t be absurd.”
Elle pressed a hand to her stomach as if that gesture alone could hold her together.
Just having fun.
Darcy didn’t love her.
Darcy didn’t.
Because that would... that would beabsurd.
Fuck, her eyes stung. She wouldn’t cry, she refused. She needed fresh air, a moment alone, a moment to process, to set her world to rights and fix this dissonance, believing one thing, feeling it in her gut, feeling it down to her bones only to hear that it wasn’t true.
Elle stepped back, footsteps faltering as Darcy turned. Their eyes met and Elle’s chest went tight, shrink-wrap around her heart, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe.
A flicker of something Elle had no name for passed overDarcy’s butterscotch brown eyes. Realization? Regret? Concern? Pity? “Elle—”
“Found you!” Elle’s laugh sounded fake even to her own ears. Fake and forced and flimsy, a paper-thin front to cover what she was feeling. “I wanted to let you know I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll be back.”
She turned before her face could do something terrible like crumble beneath Darcy’s mother’s scrutinizing stare. It made Elle want to shrink in on herself so she kept walking, kept moving in the direction of the ballroom exit, even when Darcy called out after her.
Chapter Nineteen
Darcy’s lungs burned as she quickened her steps, one heel catching on a crack in the pavement in front of the hotel. Thankfully Elle drew to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Darcy wasn’t made for running in shoes like these.
“Elle.” Her breath crystalized in the air, turning to fog in front of her. “It’s cold out here.”
Understatement of the century. It wasfreezing, the sort of cold that cramped your muscles and made your bones ache. Darcy hugged her arms across her body, skin prickling with gooseflesh as she waited for Elle to say something.
“’m fine,” Elle mumbled, back still to Darcy. Light from the streetlamp caught on the glitter that had rained down her shoulders, her arms, her bare upper back. Darcy’s vision went fractal again, all that glitter turning to crushed diamonds on Elle’s skin. Stardust.
Darcy’s teeth chattered when she tried to speak. “At least... at least get your coat or something if you’re going to stand out here. It’s—”
“I said I’m fine,” Elle bit out, voice wavering around her words, whittling them into something thin and sharp that pierced Darcy right through the chest.
She took a step forward, knees knocking as she shivered. “You don’t... you don’t sound fine.”
She sounded anything but. What the hell had happened? Everything had been wonderful,perfect, and sure, Mom had been brusque, but that wasn’t worth getting upset over. It certainly wasn’t worth dashing off into the cold without a coat. Yet Darcy had followed. Chasing after Elle had been instinctive, something she hadn’t thought about. Elle had looked upset, her smile forced, and she’d taken off and Darcy had been halfway out the ballroom before it had even occurred to her that she hadn’t said anything to Mom. She’d left their conversation, that stupid, worthless conversation hanging and had followed Elle out into the night.
Above them, the sky was dark, not a star in sight, not even the moon. Elle was, by far, the brightest thing Darcy could see, brighter than the streetlights and the lamps, a beacon in the darkness.
Elle’s shoulders curled forward, the curve of her spine enticing. Keeping one arm around herself, Darcy reached out to stroke the skin of Elle’s back, to run her fingers down that arch until skin met sparkling fabric. Elle turned before Darcy could make contact and something about her hand hovering in the space between them left Darcy feeling so vulnerable that she dropped her arm like she’d been burned.
Nothing about Elle’s expression lookedfine. A furrow had formed between her brows, her eyes damp and narrowed. She’dlicked the gloss from her lips, worried them red, and the cold air chapped them further, making her pout more pronounced.
“I’m...” With a shrug, Elle crossed her arms. One strap slipped down her shoulder and she slid it back into place absently, sniffing softly, because it was cold or because of something else, Darcy had no idea. Elle cleared her throat and lifted her chin. The look in her glossy blue eyes rooted Darcy where she stood. “I heard. What you said to your mom. I overheard.”
