Page 67 of A Little Secret

“Hey.” Lia gives me a warning look and reaches over, touching Rory’s hand. “I know Fin can be kind of pushy, but she didn’t know she was touching on such a sore subject.”

I open my mouth to argue that I most definitely did know I was touching on a sore subject, but Ophelia kicks me beneath the table, and my mouth snaps closed.

“It’s okay.” Rory twists the napkin in front of her, letting the tears tumble freely down her cheeks. “I just…I feel so stupid, you know?”

“What happened?” Tatum prods, surprising everyone else at the table. The girl’s barely said two words sincebiting off Ophelia’s head in the car. Then again, she’s probably grateful the spotlight isn’t on her for once, but what do I know?

“I, uh,” Rory rolls her glassy eyes. “I tried to kiss Jax.”

Dylan’s jaw drops, and Raine elbows her.

“It’s not a big deal,” Lia adds. “And Jax didn’t return it, obviously?—”

Rory squeaks a cry and covers her face with her hands. “Obviously?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Lia says, trying to comfort her.

“Now, who’s the one putting their foot in their mouth,” I mutter under my breath.

Tatum scoffs. “It isn’t Lia’s fault she doesn’t have a heart. She’s never experienced unrequited love, so?—”

“Ididlove Archer,” Ophelia snaps. Dylan jumps in surprise and scoots closer to me as Lia turns her glare on Tatum. “Okay?” Her expression twists with pain and anger and remorse. She slaps her hands against the table, leaning closer to Tatum. “I loved the shit out of him, and if you would just let me explain everything instead of shutting me out and painting me as the villain when I already feel like shit as it is?—”

“Hey, are you ready to order?” Mindy, the waitress, asks before realizing exactly the kind of shitshow she just stepped in. Clicking the back of her pen, she clears her throat and hooks her thumb over her shoulder. “I can always come back…?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Squeaks chokes out. Her bottom lip wobbles. “I’m not very hungry.”

“Neither am I,” Tatum decides without breaking her staring contest with her older sister.

I suck my lips between my teeth in an attempt to keepfrom calling everyone out for having their heads up their asses, well aware it isn’t the time or the place to let my acidic tongue run wild, especially when Tatum has plenty to go around.

Nostrils flaring, she tears her gaze from Ophelia and turns to Rory. “Squeaks, do you want to sit at a different table with me while I hire an Uber to take us literally anywhere but here?”

The same familiar sheen of regret fills Ophelia’s eyes. It swallows her frustration from seconds ago as she stares at her little sister helplessly. “Tatum,” she pleads.

Standing, Tatum sets her napkin on the table as Rory joins her on her feet, and they stroll away, slipping into one of the booths furthest away from ours. And it’s kind of funny. Seeing them together. How opposite yet similar they really are to each other. Tatum’s once long, blonde hair is now black and hangs just beneath her jaw. Her nails are black and chipped as if she’s been chewing them. And the books I’m used to her carrying around like a security blanket since she was a kid are long gone, along with her ability to cry. Okay, the last part is only a hunch, but she’s more stabby than woe-is-me, while little Rory Buchanan looks two seconds away from literally crying me a river as she sports her pink scrunchie, white polo, and tennis skirt, despite the cold weather.

“Well, damn,” I mutter. “So much for time healing wounds and mending bridges and shit.”

“It’s been five months, Fin,” Ophelia reminds me as if I’ve forgotten. Joke’s on her. Archer wasn’t only close to Ophelia and Tatum. He was close to all of us. And yeah, I know I lean a little more on the morbid, dark humor side of things when it comes to coping, but I’m not heartless. And I do miss him. More than most people know.

“I’m pretty sure it could be five years, and Tatum still wouldn’t let me mend bridges and shit,” Ophelia continues. “It doesn’t matter how much I apologize, if I try to put on a brave face, or…anything. I’ll always be the bad guy in her story, and that?” She sniffs and wipes beneath her nose. “That’s a burden I’m pretty sure I’ll have to carry for the rest of my life. But, it would be easier if Tatum would at least let me…talk to her.”

“You made a mistake, Lia,” I reply. “You’re allowed to make mistakes. And whenever Tatum’s ready to let you in again, you’ll be here. I think it’s all that matters.”

“Fin’s right,” Dylan adds. “And for now, Tatum can lean on Rory. Pretty sure they could both use a friend.”

We all watch Tatum and Rory from across the restaurant, surprised and enthralled by the two of them side-by-side. It’s like they’re magnets, and it’s literally a toss-up as to whether or not they’ll be brought together or pushed apart depending on the day. And thanks to their broken hearts, they’re clinging to each other.

“At least they aren’t pushing each other away,” I add, studying them.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Ophelia tucks her hair behind her ear and sits back down. “Look at you, focusing on the positive.”

“Someone has to,” I joke.

Raine and Dylan give me pity laughs and open their menus.

“Don’t get me wrong. I get it, you know?” Ophelia sniffs and plays with a straw wrapper, staring at it like it holds the answers to all her problems. “I get that our history is messy, but…I’m just so…exhausted.” The paper wrapper skids across the top of the table as she flicks it away from her. “Knowing my little sister will never forgive me, let alone move on and be happy, even if it feels impossible. And trust me. I know how impossible it feels.”

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