Page 162 of Craving Consequences
I sigh, surprise ruined. “It was a cake.”
I feel her shift and lean in closer to read the neat scripture of Maisie’s handwriting. Her silence hangs between us long enough that I have to sneak a peek at her reaction.
“What?” she says at last. “Why does that sayHappy Birthday, Lauren?My birthday isn’t until next month.”
I pull the trunk closed with more force than is necessary. I brace my good hand against the hot metal and face her.
“It was supposed to be a surprise for this weekend.” I huff, annoyed. “I guess that’s not happening.”
Lauren blinks at me. “You planned a surprise party for me?”
I gesture vaguely at the trunk. “Well, tried to.” I stare down at our feet, too tired to properly handle the emotions in her eyes. “Kind of ruined now.” I pull in a long, slow breath. “I don’t think I have the energy for a party right now, anyway.”
I need to call the boys.
I need to face Lachlan and tell him what happened before he hears it from someone else.
I need to call a dozen people and tell them the party is cancelled.
I need to tell Lauren about Van.
I need to finish packing my things.
My entire left side is on fire. My head is pounding. My stomach feels torn between needing a toilet and throwing up. My skin is sticky with blood and sweat, and I’ve never wanted a shower more in my life.
“I have to go,” I whisper. “I have to call ... so many people.”
“Everly.” Her hand extends as if she’s about to capture my arm. Her fingers hover near the elbow not swaddled in wrapping. “We need to talk. I know you’re tired and hurt right now, but ... I can’t lose you. I know that’s a lot to ask right now and I get you need space and time to think, but ... can we talk?”
She’s not wrong.
I do need time to think when my emotions aren’t just getting off a roller coaster. I need to properly come down from the adrenaline and think.
“I don’t think you want that,” I say at long last. I put a hand up when she opens her mouth. “I slept with Van.”
Maybe it’s the swarm of exhaustion, or the absence of forethought, but it comes out without a single shred of regret or guilt. It drops into the oppressive silence that clings to us. A bomb ticking down.
It does dawn on me that I should have talked to Van before telling Lauren. This affects their relationship as much as itdoes ours. Vaguely, I’m aware this could ruin things between him and me, too.
But all those thoughts have come too late.
Lauren isn’t speaking. She’s not even blinking. Her gaze is fixed on my face, tight as if I’ve smacked her.
“Why ... why would you do that?” She breathes like she’s struggling to control her voice.
Too late to back down now, I push on.
“I love him.”
And Lachlan, but one life altering confession at a time.
Lauren blinks now. Her head jerks up a notch that pulls her entire body back a step. “Since when?”
That’s a good question.
Even while I rifle through my muddled brain and try to pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with the two, I can’t really be sure.
Maybe it happened three weeks after I buried my parents and he found me standing over the coiled and kinked hose along the side of my house crying because Mom used to love watering the garden and I had no idea what I was doing. I’d been so certain I’d kill her flowers. He’d come around to see if I needed anything like he’d sensed my meltdown.
