Page 96 of Before We Were

I down a glass of orange juice, letting the cold calm the heat in my chest. A few weeks ago, this would've been mostly vodka. Progress, I guess.

Jake's call pulls me from my thoughts, waves crashing in the background of his voice.

"Can you pick up Mom and the girls from Criniti's? Ollie and I won't make it back in time."

"Sure," I answer, already grabbing my keys.

I find Mom and Kat giggling on the curb like teenagers, swaying slightly as they stumble toward the car. Seeing Mom like this—light, unburdened—stirs something hopeful in my chest. But a knot forms in my stomach at the sight of her glassy eyes, her midday intoxication another reminder of her fragility. I can't ignore the unease creeping through me, it's a contradicting tangle of relief and worry.

"Our knight in shining armor!" Kat throws her arms up dramatically as they pile in.

"Where's Nora?" I scan the street.

Kat grins from the backseat. "She went to the bathroom about five minutes ago. Must be a line. She'll be out any minute."

"Stay here," I tell them, already climbing out of the car. Something feels off.

Inside Criniti's, I spot them immediately—Connor and his crew, harassing a waitress with their usual brand of entitled bullshit. My fists clench at my sides. Then Nora appears, pale as chalk, like she's seen a ghost. She stops short when she sees me, something fragile in her expression.

"Nate?" Her voice wavers. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm your ride." I study her face. "You good?"

She nods too quickly. "Yeah. Let's just go."

But before we can leave, a voice cuts through the restaurant noise—unfamiliar to me, but Nora goes rigid at the sound.

"Lenora Wells, is that you?"

The guy who approaches screams old money—perfectly styled hair, designer polo, country club smile. Everything about him sets off warning bells in my head, especially the way Nora shrinks from his attention.

"E-Evan?" Her voice trembles on his name.

Evan.

Something dark coils in my gut as I watch him eye her like a prize he's already won.

"What are the chances of running into you here? You're looking good." His tone makes my skin crawl. "Oh, come on, Nora. Why aren't you as happy to see me as I am to see you?"

I step between them, blocking his view.

"We're having a conversation here," he clips.

"No, you were monologuing. Takes two for a conversation, Ethan."

"It's Evan."

"Don't care."

"Someone's possessive," he sneers.

The last thread of my patience snaps. “You’re done talking to her. Turn around and leave.”

My voice drops low, dangerous.

Connor steps in as Evan backs off. "Take it easy, Sullivan. My cousin here was just being friendly." He turns to Evan. "Let's go, before he decides to throw another cheap shot."

I scoff. Nothing cheap about that shot.

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