Page 73 of No Turning Back
She tilts her head, smirking like I’m already on thin ice. “Being a good friend. Are you alone?”
“Uh… yeah.” My voice comes out more like a question than an answer.
She narrows her eyes. “If you make her cry, I’ll kill you.” No joke in her tone. Just a fact.
Before I can even process, she turns and heads back toward her car. I frown after her, confused, but then the passenger side door opens and Quinn steps out.
For a second, the world tilts. My chest squeezes like I’ve been sucker-punched. She looks… unreal. Healthier. Stronger. Her skin has that kind of glow you can’t fake, and her legs, damn.Those jeans should come with a warning label. I just saw her yesterday but, wow.
She walks toward me, arms swinging loose, face unreadable.
“That farm sure agrees with you,” I blurt, because my brain is a traitor.
er arms snap across her chest, mouth tightening. “Really.”
I wince, grimace, and shove a hand through my hair. “Sorry. That came out wrong.” I step aside, holding the door open for her.
She hesitates, just for a heartbeat, then walks past me. The faint smell of her shampoo, familiar as oxygen, guts me.
Behind her, Kate climbs into the driver’s seat but not before pointing two fingers at her eyes and then at me.I’m watching you.And the thing is, I believe her. I once saw her haul her kid, who’s basically a full-grown linebacker, out of the pool like it was nothing. Boy moms are terrifying.
I shut the door and lean against it for a second, trying to get my pulse under control.
Quinn’s already in the living room, standing by the counter where half-packed boxes sit like open wounds. Her eyes scan the clutter: mismatched mugs, old birthday cards, the detritus of a marriage boxed up for donation.
I clear my throat. “I guess you wanna divide the stuff.” I move to a box, pop it open, and dig inside. “Honestly, I don’t even know what half this crap is for, so you can just-”
“Why.”
The word cuts through the air like a blade.
I freeze, a fistful of tangled charger cords in my hand. “What?”
She looks at me, really looks at me, and it feels like I’m pinned to the wall. “Why.”
Not about the spoons. Not about the boxes. I know exactly what she means.
I laugh weakly, trying to buy time. “You want a drink or something?”
Her eyes don’t blink. Don’t move. “I want answers.”
“We’re divorced. Why does it matter?”
“It matters!” Quinn snaps, her voice cracking sharp in the small room. “How the hell am I supposed to trust anyone again when my once loving, loyal husband-” she spitsloyallike it’s poison- “turns out to be a fucking cheater?”
The word hangs there, heavy.
“So, this is about Sam,” I fire back.
Her eyes narrow to slits. “Don’t you dare bring him into this.”
“Why not? Sam, who wasjust a friend, your words. Sam, who you’re now living with.”
Her jaw drops, disbelief flashing before the fury takes over. “Do you hear yourself right now? You don’t get to go there.”
“I think I do.”
She steps closer, voice trembling but strong. “You fucked your‘best friend’” she lifts her hands in mocking air quotes, “the one you always claimed was like a sister and knocked her up. But you’ve got the balls to come at me for moving in with Sam, after I lost myhomebecause of you?”
