Page 36 of First Verse

Buzzing silence follows. I’ve never yelled at her like that. Shaking my head in dismay, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.”

She reaches for me, but I back away.

“I can’t do this right now.”

Movement in the doorway makes me flinch. My gaze flies to my dad. His expression is neutral, but his voice emerges hard. “Julian says it’s opiates. Probably pills. He’s careful around his family, but he’s not fooling his parents. He’s always high these days.” He pauses. “Stay away from him, Eva.”

“I haven’t seen him since the barbecue last year,” I blurt.

My dad’s eyes narrow. “You think after years of watching him toy with you that I didn’t recognize the look on your face the second you walked in this morning?” His gaze drops to my neck. “Please tell me that’s not from him.”

Mortified, I slap a hand over the spot.

His shoulders bunch, then relax. He shakes his head slowly, blue eyes filled with such disappointment that shame spreads like ink through my chest. My chin wobbles. He’sneverlooked at me this way.

My mom takes a few steps toward him. “Let’s take a breather,” she says softly.

He stays laser focused on me. “Deep down, I knew it was only a matter of time before he came after you, but I really, really hoped you’d be smarter than this.”

“Matthew,” hisses my mom.

He ignores her again. “I know you guys were close growing up. You had a bond anyone could see. Hell—Julian, Rose, your mom, and I used to joke that the two of you were a done deal.Soulmates.” His lips twist over the word. “We were wrong. What Wilder feels for you isn’t love. Maybe it could have been, but the second he decided to take the coward’s way out, he became incapable of the feeling. If you let yourself believe the bullshit he’s telling you, he’ll drag you down with him. He’s an addict. He’susingyou. Did he tell you he was single now? He’s not. His girlfriend moved in with him two months ago.”

“Enough!” snaps my mom. “Take a walk, Matt.”

He looks at her, but it’s like he doesn’t even see her. His jaw ticks, then he spins on his heel and disappears into the hallway. I stare after him, silent tears spilling over my cheeks.

My mom wraps her arms around me; I barely feel the embrace. “He shouldn’t have said all that. It was coming from a place of pain that has nothing to do with you.”

“His dad?” I ask weakly.

She nods against my shoulder. “And Julian. There was a rough period in the early days before he got sober. It almost broke up the band. But it’s not an excuse. He went too far.” She leans back, framing my face in her hands and smoothing away my tears. “Expect him to be groveling tomorrow.”

Preternatural calm descends on my shoulders, numbing and welcome. My tears slow and stop.

“You agree with him, though. Don’t you?”

Her gaze flickers away from mine, her hands falling. “I won’t lie and say I don’t have some of the same fears.” She looks like she wants to say more, but instead presses her palm to my chest over my heart. “Be careful with this, okay?”

I manage a small smile. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of seeing Wilder again, at least not on purpose.” I pause. “He told me he was in an open relationship. Do you know if that’s true?”

She frowns. “I don’t, sorry. Do you want me to ask Rose? I can be discreet.”

I shake my head, regretting letting the question slip out. “No, that’s okay.”

I know exactly who to ask.

* * *

Once at home,I make myself tea and take it onto my back porch. The sky is a pale, crystal blue, the air cold enough that I have a blanket wrapped around my shoulders and my tea has doubled its steam.

Despite the still-bare branches of the maple above me, green stalks are pushing through the soil along my fence. In a few weeks, white and yellow daffodils will bloom. I’ve always loved this time of year—the first yawn of spring—but for the first time, I can’t connect to the symbolic beauty of new beginnings. All I see is barrenness.

Dropping into a chair, I take a few sips of chamomile.

Then I make the call.

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