Page 113 of These Summer Storms

“Griffin turned out to be a fucking asshole.” Gabi, from the gallery.

“Thank you, Gabi,” Alice said.

“You should tell the whole story,” Gabi said. “Everyone will agree with me.” She turned to Griffin. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Gabi—” Roxanne said, materializing nearby. “I’m not sure this is quite appropriate for—”

Griffin looked to Gabi. “You’re a menace.”

Roxanne’s brows rose and Gabi grinned. “Glad you’ve finally noticed.”

“Alice, please.” Griffin returned to her. “Let’s talk. Alone.”

She took him in, so familiar, blue eyes in his perfectly symmetrical face, his clear skin the product of hundreds of dollars of skincare (she’d paid for that, too), the deep-set dimples in his cheeks that she’d always thought were charming. The night she first met him, everything about him had seemed sodifferent. He’d been so full of feelings and emotions and used words likeauthenticityandtruth,and it had been like a drug. She’d been wildly attracted to his promise—someone who put her first.

He broke that promise when he broke their engagement.

And now he wanted to claim part of her here?

Today is an end, but it’s also a beginning.

Jack’s words threaded through her. Who had she been before, who was she going to be after?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be with Griffin. He ended today.

“Ten minutes. And you leave.” Without waiting for him, she headed through the break in the stone wall, to the edge of the garden overlooking the southern tip of the island, where the fog bell house stood sentry over the mouth of the Bay.

“First,” he said, running his hands through his wild hair. “I’m sorry for your loss.”Lie.

“Please don’t,” she said. “You left me, Griffin. Why would Ieverwant you here?”

He looked confused, as though it had never occurred to him that she wouldn’t want him there. “I am sorry about that,” he began, and she saw the actor in him, working to find the right lines. “It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to leave you.”

“And it took until my father died and my inheritance came into play for you to realize that?”

“What? No!” She took it all back. He wasn’t a good actor after all. “I just—I know you had complicated feelings about your dad, and I didn’t want you to have them alone.”

There they were again.Feelings.Invoked to lure her in again. He’d done it so many times over the course of their relationship, always when she came to a precipice and considered ending it.

He’d lure her back in with words likeloveandtrustandhappiness.

And she’d stayed. Because those things tempted her more than her father’s money ever could. And the truth of that was tied up with her pride and her constant rebellion. If only Franklin could have seen her then—so happy with Griffin. Happily ever after.

Except, she hadn’t been happy with him.

“My relationship with my father is no longer your business.”

“I didn’t ghost you,” he said with a complete lack of embarrassment. Not even a sliver of chagrin.

“You’re right,” she said. “You left a note.It doesn’t feel right,” she repeated, disgusted all over again.

“Alice,” he said, her name sounding likecalm down. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I wouldneverhave done that. Five years we were together. And you packed up your shit and disappeared.” She sucked in a breath, tears hot in her throat, behind her eyes. Notsadness.Embarrassment.

She knew the difference now.

“It’s time for you to do it again, Griffin.”