“Then fight for him, sweetie.”
“No,” Macy blurted. Both girls looked at her in surprise, then dawning anger. “Candace, you’re right,” she explained quickly. “They will never leave you alone. You’d end up having to run away with the guy, and I know you don’t want it to come to that. You don’t want to turn your back on the people who’ve been there your entire life. You don’t want to have to leave us.”
“It’s not fair!” Candace cried. “That’s almost exactly what Michelle said. But why is it that I have to turn my back on him just to make all of you happy?”
It felt like talking to a damn teenager. “Did you think he was going to marry you? Come on, Candace. This was a fling for him. Don’t let your emotions get so tied up in it. Better for it to end now and be done with.”
“Macy, I slept with him,” Candace said. Sam didn’t comment, but she hadn’t stopped glowering at Macy.
“I know, but—” Damn, no, I only know that because Ghost insinuated it. “I mean, I know you’ve built that up into a big deal in your head, but—”
“He made a bigger deal of it than I did. I wanted him the first night we hung out together, but he stopped, Macy. He wanted it to be right for me. You don’t know what he says to me. You don’t know how he looks at me. I might be new at all this, but I know how he makes me feel. You don’t. You don’t know shit about it, so shut up.”
“I’m just trying to—”
“You can think whatever you want, but I’m not going to listen to you cheapen what we have. What are you, jealous or something? I don’t get it. You’ve been on their side from the start, and I’m f**king sick of it, Macy.”
Macy could only stare. Candace had never, ever, ever spoken to her that way before…had never looked at her that way before. Right before her eyes, her friend appeared years older. Not a girl fostering a painful crush. A woman suffering dire heartbreak.
With her own eyes stinging, Macy stood and went to do something…what, she didn’t know. After a moment of staring aimlessly around her kitchen, she put on a pot of coffee.
Maybe she was jealous. Maybe she did want what Candace had. Ghost’s smile drifted through her mind, and she almost smiled in response to it as she watched dark, fragrant liquid fill the carafe. But heartbreak unfolding in her own living room should be throwing up red flags all over the place. That certainly wasn’t what she wanted.
At least if she decided to see Ghost again, she would know from the start what it was all about. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall in love.
And she was trying to be a friend. She was trying to treat Candace like an adult—unlike Sam, who’d taken to rocking her now while she cried. This was life. Life was pain. It was heartache. She could attest to that. The ex she’d loved the most, her own first love, Jared…she’d pushed him away in her own anger and fear, and he was married with twin girls now. Did Candace think it hadn’t hurt her to do that? But it had been necessary. She hadn’t wanted to do it; she hadn’t wanted to watch him walk out of her hospital room without a backward glance any more than Candace had wanted to let Brian go, but it had been the best thing for everyone involved at the time.
But she didn’t know shit about it, right.
How dare she?
Deep breath. In, out. In. Out. It was the only way she could keep from slamming the coffee mugs she’d retrieved from the cabinet down on the counter hard enough to shatter them. Let Candace believe she was the only person in the world who’d ever been in love, who’d ever had to make the shitty decision, who’d ever been in pain. That was fine; she’d find out differently one day. Maybe.
She took the two cups into the living room; she’d made the coffee, but didn’t want any for herself. “Don’t think I’ve never been hurt before, Candace,” she said softly, settling back into her original position on the couch and folding her legs under her.
“I know,” Candace said, sitting back and wiping her eyes with the back of her knuckle. “I’m sorry I said all that.”
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t yet, really, but it would be.
“So tell us exactly what happened,” Sam prompted. “If you’re up to it. I don’t think I got the whole story when you called yesterday.”
Candace leaned forward and picked up her mug, staring into it for a long time before speaking. “You didn’t spike this, did you?” she asked Macy with a little smile.
Macy gave her a solemn wink. “I thought about it.”
“I wouldn’t blame you. God. The last thing I need is you pissed at me.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Anyway.” Candace tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear. “We went to Dallas to that concert. And we spent the night together—”
“Okay, I have to stop you there,” Sam said. “How was it?”
“It was amazing. It was sweet and hot and scary and overwhelming and everything I’d hoped it would be.”
“Good. Continue.”
“We got back the next day, got into a fight with my mom and Jameson—Michelle was there, too, but she was cool about everything. Brian hit James. Then I guess James trashed Dermamania and filed charges on Brian for hitting him. I told Brian this would go on and on and maybe it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore. That’s it.”
Macy recalled the black SUV she’d seen cruise slowly by Dermamania and wondered if she could actually place the guy at the scene. She hadn’t seen James around in a while; did he even drive the same car? Ugh. Drama, drama, drama. But it was probably no coincidence that Brian’s parlor had gotten trashed the same night that he hit James.
It occurred to Macy that she’d even seen a dark SUV parked in a lot down the street when she’d left. Shit. Was this really happening?
Her friends’ conversation went on, oblivious to Macy’s feverish speculations.
“Brian wasn’t receptive to that idea, I take it?” Sam asked.
“To say the least.”
“Oh, Candace, you can’t do this to him now!”
“What am I supposed to do, Sam?”
“Stand by your man, and all that.”
“It’s my standing by him that would get him into trouble. The best way I can stand by him is to let him go.”
The three of them sat in silence for a moment. Sam finally spoke. “Well then, I think you’re being very brave. I don’t know that I could have the strength to do it.”
Candace picked a thread from her pink T-shirt with her free hand. “He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t realize…” As if sensing another impending deluge of tears, she took a deep breath and shook her head, leaving the thought unfinished as she sipped her coffee.
He didn’t realize what she put up with from her parents. Macy knew, and Macy hated it for her. It really wasn’t fair. But until Candace was on her feet and done with college, she was kind of stuck under their thumb, and nothing could be done about it. She could only try to make life as easy as possible on herself until things were different. Sylvia Andrews was like a bloodhound; even a clandestine affair wouldn’t remain hidden from her for long.