I looked up at my friend.
My best friend.
My person.
My life.
Fire burned in my stomach, and tears flowed from her eyes. She became overwhelmed with emotion and began sobbing uncontrollably.
“It was you…?” I whispered.
“Oh my gosh, Grace!” she cried. Her hand landed over her mouth to control her sobbing mess, but still, I watched her fall apart in front of me.
It was her.
Not a random woman, but her.
Her.
Autumn.
The woman who’d been through wars with me.
I hadn’t been able to really get in touch with her lately, and when I had, she’d ended our calls fast, always telling me she’d call me back, yet she never had.
I understood now.
What I didn’t understand was how she could have done this to me.
She’d been in my home. We’d laughed together. She’d told me how amazing Finn and I were as a couple. She’d said she envied us. I’d cooked dinner for her and her ex-boyfriend Erik. When Erik had cheated on her, I’d comforted her, telling her she was better off without him and she’d find someone worthy of her love.
I hadn’t meant my husband.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she said, still crying.
I felt her tears against my cheeks.
Wait, no…
Those were my own tears. The disbelief of it all shook me to my core. How was this a thing? This couldn’t be a thing. I felt as if I were in a nightmare, unable to open my eyes and wake up safely in my warm bed. Was it all a mirage? Autumn would never do that to me. Finn would never hurt me in that way—at least that was what I’d thought. As it turned out, though, my thoughts were wrong, and their hearts were jaded.
I blinked my eyes, but still, I saw her.
My stare scanned up and down her body, taking in every inch of her. I studied her curves. I studied her tears. She was a beautiful crier. I hated that even when she cried, she looked like a goddess. She looked like everything I hadn’t been in so, so long.
Oh.
That hurts.
“Is he here?” I choked out, standing tall yet feeling as if I were crashing down. She just kept crying. He was there. Those were his tennis shoes. I puffed out my chest. “Finley!” I shouted as I darted through her house.
I knew every inch of Autumn’s home. I knew every corner. When she’d moved in, I’d taken a weekend trip back to Chester just to help her organize it. I checked the closets, the bathroom, the corners, under the beds.
When I opened the pantry door, my heart clenched, and those blue eyes stared straight into mine. My husband was hiding beside the garlic powder and sea salt in an attempt to avoid coming face to face with me.
Shirtless.
“Grace—” he started, but he shut up quickly when I slapped my hand against his face. “Shit!” he hollered.
“Oh my God!” I cried, feeling overwhelmed by betrayal, pain, and sadness. My hands flew over my mouth. “Oh my God, oh my God!”
I was an ugly crier. I could only imagine how hideous I looked in that moment.
I looked nothing like her.
There were so many nights of my life I’d wished I looked like her.
“I’m so sorry.” Autumn sobbed, holding her hands over her heart as she continued to fall apart. “I’m so, so sorry, Grace,” she repeated, and every time she spoke, I thought about dying right then and there.
I pushed past her, rushing out the front door. My vision blurred, my mind jumbling. I couldn’t think straight.
“Grace.” I heard him behind me, and I flinched at the sound of his voice. That voice had once filled me with so much happiness. It was what I had fallen in love with—so smooth, so deep—was now so unbelievably hurtful.
“No,” I said adamantly, watching Finn emerge from inside my personal hell and walk toward me. He wasn’t irritated with me like he had been in Atlanta, but the guilt swam in his eyes. “Don’t talk to me.”
“I just…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know how to tell you. We didn’t know how to—”
“Autumn, really?!” I cried, shoving my hands against his chest. “My Autumn! You-you-you monster!”
He let me hit him, and that made me angry. I wanted him to fight back. I wanted him to lay his hands on my body instead of delivering blows to my heart. I wanted it to hurt. “You said she meant nothing to you. You said she meant nothing! You slept with my best friend!”
“I know. I mean, we…it’s…”
“I swear to God, Finley, if you say it’s complicated, I will rip your head off your body.” I never swore to God unless I truly meant it.
“I still care about you, Grace. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said.
Slap.
I slapped him again, and again, and again. How could he use those words? How could he say that to me? How could a small corner of my heart somehow stupidly believe him?