She set her bag on the foyer table and kicked off her shoes, setting them out of the way. Her middle toe poked through a hole. Time for new socks. One more thing for her to-do list. It could wait until after the wedding. She would only need sandals on their honeymoon.
She rounded the corner where the hall opened to the small living room, her hand reaching for the light switch. But a noise, a groan, sounded over the country crooning. Through the sheers, the parking lot light shed a yellow glow over the space. Two people embraced on the couch. A man was half on top of Jaylee. Sabrina wondered if she should grab a blunt object or call 911. As her eyes adjusted, she realized her cousin was stroking the back of his head, not fighting him off.
Jaylee didn’t have a boyfriend, and she didn’t sleep around. Sabrina felt like a Peeping Tom standing there, watching. She stepped backward, wondering where she could go.
Her foot connected with the tall metal pail holding a cluster of artificial sunflowers. It scraped backward on the wood floor and clanged against the wall, an awkward percussion over the slow country verse. Jaylee and the man jumped apart.
Sabrina felt her face warming the instant before she saw his face. In the dark, his features were obscured. It was his silhouette against the pale wall behind him. It was the way he hunched slightly, the way he cleared his throat.
Her fingers felt for the light switch on the wall and stumbled across the protrusion. She flipped it up.
Jared blinked against the glaring overhead light.
Jaylee jumped to her feet. “Sabrina!” She straightened her shirt. The top two buttons of her favorite pink blouse were undone.
Sabrina looked at Jared. His hand covered half his face, his elbow protruding outward.
Jaylee took a step toward her, reaching out.
Sabrina moved away. “Don’t touch me.” Her voice was a deep snarl.
Jared stood, looking at her, uncertain. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sabrina.”
Sorry?
She looked at the two of them. Their expressions, a mixture of shock, horror, and guilt, might have inspired laughter if the lump of pain in her throat hadn’t choked it out.
“We didn’t mean for it to happen,” Jared was saying.
“We were going to tell you,” Jaylee said.
How long had this been going on? “After the wedding?” She turned on Jared. “We’re getting married in six days!
Six. Days
.” How could he do this to her? How could he sit—no,
lie
—with her cousin on her couch? The couch she’d bought and paid for with her own money.
“We didn’t mean for it to happen—didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” Jaylee said.
“How did you mean for me to find out? And when? Why are you doing this?” Sabrina turned, disinclined to see them standing together like a—like a couple. Jaylee and Jared weren’t the couple. Sabrina and Jared were. They were engaged.
“I’m sorry.” Jared’s voice sounded from behind her, close. The picture on the wall blurred in front of her. It was just like high school. Just like when Ethan Sterling had pretended to like her only to get invited to her house so he could be near Jaylee. Just like when David Ellenburg had befriended her only to pick her brain about Arielle. Just like all those times. Only worse. Much worse.
Jared’s apology felt impossibly inadequate. How did an apology rectify the damage her heart suffered? How did an apology justify the pain they’d caused?
Was it only physical? Jaylee was so beautiful. She’d won most of the pageants she’d entered for a reason. Had she been too much for Jared to resist? Could Sabrina bring herself to forgive him?
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Jaylee was saying. She slid past Sabrina and slipped out the door. She didn’t want to think about her cousin right now. One betrayal at a time.
The music died midsentence. Jared must’ve turned it off. The quiet was alarming, because now she could hear her heart thudding in her head, hear Jared’s ragged rasps. Was he winded from the make-out session or from the distress of Sabrina’s appearance?
“Come and sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down.” If he was going to beg her forgiveness, he could do it with her standing, face-to-face. She turned around and met his gaze.
He looked at the floor. “We need to talk.”
“You think?” Was this the kind of man Jared was? The kind who was seduced by a pretty face? It was so contrary to her previous convictions it made her head spin. She couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d arrived home to find her apartment upside down.
“We didn’t mean for it to happen.”
We
. It was a couple word. But they weren’t a couple. Sabrina and Jared were a couple. If she said it enough, it would be true.
“I should’ve told you. I’m sorry you found out like this.”
A weight hung heavily in her middle, sagging downward, dragging her with it. She fought to keep her legs under her. “Should’ve told me what?” She nearly put her hands over her ears. Instead she steeled herself for his answer.
“It’s over, Sabrina.”
What was over? He and Jaylee? It was a quick, cold-feet thing, right? One last escapade before he settled down.
“What’s—” She cleared her throat. “What’s over?”
He looked at her now, but she wished he hadn’t. His eyes were laden with guilt and pity. “Us.”
She looked deeply into his familiar green eyes. There was nothing familiar about them now. She’d never seen this expression. Never wanted to see it again.
“We’re getting married in six days.” They had two hundred and forty-six RSVPs, two thousand dollars in flowers, and a three-thousand- dollar dress to prove it.
“I’m in love with Jaylee.”
Each word was a nail in her heart. Everything in the room stopped. Everything in the world came to a screeching halt. Everything but the pain.
“What?”
You need to hear it again for torture’s sake?
“We didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“So you keep saying!” She ran her hand over her face. It was wet. She pushed at his chest with the palm of her hand. “How long?” she demanded.
He looked away, color blooming in his cheeks.
She shoved him again. “How long?”
His eyes glazed over. Good. She was glad he was hurting too. He deserved to hurt.
“I thought it would go away,” he said.
“How long?” She needed to know the truth. All of it.
“A few months.”
Her mind went back to the week before, when they’d gone to the beach for the day. To the week before that, when they’d shopped for a dress for the rehearsal dinner. To the time they’d gone bowling and laughed when she’d gotten five gutter balls in a row. All the memories from the past few months filed through her mind. All of them lies.
And now she’d lost Jared? Lost him to her cousin? The betrayal bit hard. It was too much. Too overwhelming to bear all at once. “Get out.”
“Sabrina.” He reached for her.
She flinched away. “Get out!” Her breath came hard and fast.
He stood, unmoving, hunched, for a moment. Then he walked away, toward the door. She heard the soft click of the latch settling into place.
The next six days had been a blur of pain, humiliation, and darkness. Aunt Bev had made most of the cancellations. Jaylee had made herself scarce, going to stay with her parents.
Now, a seagull called, landing a few paces away in the sand. A wave washed up, and the gull scurried up the beach. The sky was filling with golden light. She had to get home for a shower. Sabrina quickened her pace, falling into a swift jog. But she wondered if she’d ever run fast enough to escape the memories that haunted her.
Sweetpea: I don’t like surprises. I know a lot of people say that, but I really mean it. I do not like surprises.
A week later Sabrina was halfway up the stairs to her apartment before she saw the woman blocking her door.
“Surprise!” Arielle spread her arms wide.
Her cousin wore white shorts that set off her tan, and her long hair was captured in a sleek ponytail.
“Arielle.” Sabrina walked up the steps, taking in her cousin’s floral suitcase, which looked large enough for a wardrobe or two.
Arielle embraced her, rubbing Sabrina’s back. “Oh, it is so good to see you, cuz.”
Sabrina had missed the Southern accent. “This is a surprise.” An understatement.
A sudden thought sent a shiver of panic up her spine. What if Tucker saw Arielle? He would think she was Sweetpea. How long was Arielle staying? Sabrina had to keep her away from Tucker.
Arielle leaned back, propping both fists on her slim hips. “Well, it wouldn’t have been if you’d returned my calls.”
“Sorry about that.” Sabrina unlocked the door and flipped on the lamp. “Come in.”
Arielle rolled her suitcase over the threshold and shut the door. “Nice setup you got here, right on the beach. I met Mrs. Hannigan, but she didn’t feel right letting me in without your knowledge, and I didn’t want to call you—wanted it to be a surprise . . .” She struck a ta-da pose.
“Well, it certainly is.” Sabrina set down her bag and offered her cousin a drink.
“How’s your summer break going?” Sabrina asked after they were seated in the tiny living area.
“It’s half over already. I miss those little rug rats.” Arielle was born to teach preschool.
“You’ll be back to school before you know it.” A silence gathered between them. There was a white elephant in the room, and Sabrina was doing her best to ignore it.
“I guess you got the wedding invitation,” Arielle said.
So much for denial. “Of course.” Sabrina stood under the guise of turning on another lamp. “I’m not going, Arielle, so you can save your speech.”
Arielle started to speak, but Sabrina put her hand up, palm out.
“I know you mean well, but I’ve made up my mind. I’m glad you’ve come for a visit, but let’s be clear about this up front: I’m not going to the wedding.”
“We don’t have to talk about it today.”
“Or tomorrow or the next day. Because it’s futile.”
Arielle studied Sabrina’s face. Seeming to recognize her resolution, she turned and surveyed the room, running her hand along the back of the couch.
Sabrina perused the room with a fresh eye. She hadn’t done much to the place since she’d moved in. It looked barren and void of personality.
“Did you pick the wall color?”
Sabrina had never liked the dark green, but hadn’t cared enough to paint it. “It was that way when I moved in.”
“Depressing, don’t you think?” She peeked in the dining room. “I like the wood floors. Maybe I can help you with furniture placement while I’m here. The room lacks harmony. We’ll have you feeling better before you know it.”
“I feel fine.”
“Aren’t you going to ask about the family?”
“How’s the family?”
“You don’t have to be sarcastic.” Arielle’s smile softened her words. She squirmed on the sofa, clearly bothered. She seemed to shake the notion and continued, “Mom is wrapped up in the Miss Georgia Teen pageant. She’s on the board again. Dad’s traveling a lot still, but seems pretty happy with his work.” She paused, as if wondering if it was safe to bring up Jaylee. “And, well, you pretty much know the rest. I’m moving up to the four-year-olds next year, so I’ll have the same kiddos I had this year.”
What Sabrina really needed to know was how long Arielle was staying. She was glad to see her cousin. She just didn’t want Tucker to see her. Sabrina checked her watch. She was due at Tucker’s in a couple hours.
“Am I keeping you from something? I don’t want to rearrange a thing while I’m here—except maybe your furniture. I did just drop in, after all.” Her jaw relaxed slightly, her lip dropping. “It is okay that I’m here, isn’t it?”
Even with the pouty frown, Arielle was adorable. Sabrina wondered if she had any idea how lucky she was. “Of course it’s okay.” She’d missed Arielle. Hadn’t known how much until she’d seen her in front of the door. “I do have a part-time evening job though, so I won’t be home much. How long can you stay?”
Please not long
, she thought, then felt guilty.
Arielle shrugged her tanned shoulders. “I’m free as a bird for another month. I booked a flight back in about four weeks—I hope that’s okay.”
A whole month? Sabrina pasted a smile on her face. How would she keep Arielle out of town that long? Nantucket wasn’t that big, and she didn’t want to consider what would happen if Tucker recognized her.
Sweetpea: I’m a little bit stubborn.
Harbormaster: No kidding.
Sabrina didn’t notice when the rain began. Her eyes glued to Tucker’s computer screen, she’d been absorbed in the messages that had flown between them several months ago. Focused on her new plan.
Only when a clap of thunder pealed did she glance out the office’s bay window and see the sheets of rain pouring into the harbor.
Ordinarily, she loved a good downpour, loved the smell of rain, the sound of it on the roof. But today she’d ridden her bike to Tucker’s, and the rain didn’t look like it was letting up anytime soon.