Page 130 of Fault Lines
I wanted to say it was okay, but it wasn’t.
Instead I said, “It’s not all your fault.”
He turned toward me, his face buried in the pillow. “I keep thinking if I can just hold on, if I can just keep you here, it’ll get better.”
I blinked at the ceiling, feeling the words settle in.
He reached for my hand, found it under the blanket, and squeezed. “I’ll try harder. I promise.”
I squeezed back, even though I wasn’t sure what I was promising in return.
We lay there, two ghosts in a bed too big for the living.
I listened to the sound of his breathing, and wondered if this was what forgiveness felt like—slow, clumsy, and impossible to name.
In the morning, the sun spilled through the blinds, too bright for what we’d become. Nate got up first, made coffee, and didn’t say a word about the broken glass in the trash.
We played another round of Crazy Eights.
This time, I let him win.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I eased myself into the dress, wriggling and pulling, the fabric stubborn and slick against my skin. It was cut to cling, and I couldn’t decide if I looked like a million bucks or just out of breath.
Rachel appraised me like I was artwork. “Girl! That looks so good on you.”
She circled me, misting me with perfume. I caught the scent—it was sweet, somehow hopeful.
“I wish I had an ass like yours,” she said.
I snorted, smoothing the fabric at my hips. “I wish I had one like yours.”
Rachel didn’t give me time to think. “Alright, let’s go!” She tossed her hair and snatched up her clutch, the excitement in her grin contagious. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror as we headed out: two women dressed to the nines, ready for anything, and I had to admit, we looked the part. I tried a tentative smile at my reflection, the tightness of the dress making me feel braver than I was. Maybe tonight, I could just… let go.
We stepped into the night air, and it felt cooler than I remembered, crisp with possibility. The city was alive—the kind of alive that made everything seem electric, urgent. We fell into step along the sidewalk, the lights from the street drawing us forward. Laughter and bass rolled out from the club up ahead, the pulse picking up inside my chest.
Jackson was waiting when we arrived. I hadn’t even seen him at first, but as soon as he saw us, his whole face lit up. “Wow, Livi! You look incredible!” He hugged me with a kiss on the cheek, then turned to Rachel. “And you’re killing it too, Rach.”
Inside, the bass took over, so thick it seemed to buzz in my bones. We let ourselves drift with the crowd, the grain of it carrying us along, drinks in hand, laughing until the strain in my chest started to loosen. This was what I wanted: to evaporate the heaviness of the past few weeks and just feel good for a while.
We hadn’t been there long when I saw Nate coming through the crowd. He moved like he belonged in every room he entered. He was wearing a black shirt that fit perfectly, and when his eyes found me, they softened. “Look at you, Livi! Absolutely stunning.” He leaned in for a kiss on my cheek, and I felt the shiver all the way to my toes. It was so easy to smile back at him. “You’re not looking too shabby yourself.”
Soon we’d lost ourselves entirely to the music and the lights. Rachel clinked her glass against mine and we floated, untethered. I felt lighter, like if I just kept moving, nothing could catch up to me—not even the memories I was trying to outrun.
The hours slipped by. We danced until nothing mattered but the rhythm. Nate and I kept finding our way back to each other, his hands familiar on my waist, our bodies moving together without thinking. I felt the energy between us, sharp and clean—a thrill that almost made me forget everything else.
But then I looked up, and there he was. Cam. He stood just inside the entrance, scanning the throng, his face shuttered but determined. For a split second, everything froze—the beat, the laughter, the haze from the drinks and lights. It all snapped into focus.
Cam’s eyes found mine before I could look away. My heart beat so loud I was sure Rachel could hear it, but the rest of the world fell away, muffled behind a pane of glass.
“Livi?” Nate’s voice drifted in, distant but worried. He tried to catch my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed, forcing myself to remember where I was. “Nothing,” I said, but it came out shaky. “Just… it’s Cam.”
Nate tensed at the name. He glanced over his shoulder, then looked at me hard. “Do you want to leave? We can go anywhere you want.”
I shook my head, the words tumbling out faster than I could think them. “No! I don’t want to run away. I need to face this.” Instantly, I wondered if I really meant it. But it was too late to take it back.
