Chapter 10
Lila
I didn’t even protest when Sage shoved a pair of her oversized pajama pants and a vintage concert tee into my arms. I’d been to her house a hundred times before, enough that I knew the way without the lights on, but tonight felt different.
After the break-in, after the shove against the wall and the sting still fading on my cheek, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Her guest room smelled like lavender and eucalyptus, soft and calm, but she dragged me out of it almost immediately. “No hiding in here. The living room is prepped for maximum comfort. Tequila, Netflix, and the weighted blanket. Pizza is already here. You know the drill.”
She was already barefoot, auburn hair twisted into the world’s messiest bun, her pajama pants patterned with little green leaves. I’d seen them so many times that I knew she called them her “plant pants.” Sage never missed a chance to stay on brand.
Following her down the hall, I muttered, “Seriously, why do you keep tequila on standby like it’s first aid?”
“Please,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “You’ve been here before. You know I keep tequila like other people keep Band-Aids. Lo Lo gives it her medical seal of approval.”
That made me laugh, even with my throat tight. Sage lived to make things lighter, and right now I needed that more than I could say. Categorically, Chloe did not give her medical seal of approval for tequila, but I could go with it.
Her living room was the same cozy jungle I’d always known.
Houseplants spilling from macrame hangers, glass bottles lining every surface, each holding a single bloom.
I knew most of them had a story because Sage couldn’t help telling me: which thrift store she’d found the bottle in, or what emotion she’d pressed into each flower tucked inside her journal.
Tonight, the place looked like it had been expecting me.
“You do realize your plants are staring at me,” I teased, dropping onto the couch where the weighted blanket already waited.
“They’re used to you,” she shot back, plopping down beside me. “You’re practically family.”
The words hit me in the chest harder than I expected. I swallowed past the lump and forced a grin. “You say that, but last time I watered them when you were out of town, you said I traumatized the spider plant.”
“Because you did. She still hasn’t recovered. But she forgives you.” Sage nudged my shoulder. “Now eat. Pizza, extra olives, because you’re a weirdo.”
“Olives are elite.” I pulled a slice free. “Don’t slander them. They’re watching you.”
“Ugh. Fine. But only because you’re traumatized.” She poured tequila into the mismatched glasses I’d drunk from more times than I could count. We’d once declared them “magic cups” because drinking from them made everything feel better, but I was guessing that was the tequila, not the glasses.
She raised hers. “To surviving. And to your excellent cheekbone.”
I groaned, then clinked cups with her. The tequila burned as always, but it also warmed me, threading through my chest. I was relieved that she was willing to lighten the mood and not dwell on what had happened.
If she were one of those people who dwelled on things, I wasn’t sure how I could handle it.
I’d been in this living room enough to know every creak in the floorboards, every pattern of the fairy lights strung across the mantle.
Yet tonight, curled under the weighted blanket with Sage pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with me, it felt like the first time I’d taken a full breath since that man shoved me.
“You really okay?” Sage turned on her side so she faced me.
I hesitated, my fingers twisting at the edge of the blanket.
Sage and I had grown apart during my years with my ex-boyfriend—those years I left the safety of my Grams and Wildwood Meadows.
I ghosted her. We hashed things out, and I came clean about what happened with him, but tonight brought up a lot of ugliness.
The truth pushed up my throat like water behind a dam. “Physically, yeah. I’m ok. Thank God you came over. You were amazing.”
“Of course, bestie.” She twined her fingers with mine, her eyes urging me to keep going.
“Emotionally? I’m scared,” I admitted finally.
My voice sounded too small, even to me. “Not just about tonight. About… falling back into old patterns. I know better, but sometimes I don’t trust myself to see the red flags before it’s too late.
This just brings it all back.” I swallowed hard. “Men like that.”
Sage gripped my hand tightly. “You’re not alone. Derek was only able to weasel into your life because you were alone. He was a dick and a waste of space. You’re not that girl anymore.”
She’d stubbornly adhered to the idea that I’d been susceptible to Derek’s charms because I’d been young and naive.
Maybe there was a lot of truth to that. I hadn’t known better.
He’d been nice at first. I hadn’t had the strongest relationships, but I hadn’t exactly been alone. Grams had tried to warn me.
Sure, Grams had been doing a lot of heavy lifting when it came to raising a granddaughter. There were several areas where we struggled, just like any single-parent household. I felt like she was too strict, and she thought that I was trying to spread my wings a little too quickly.
I bit my lip. “I thought I wasn’t that girl with Derek, either. I feel sometimes that I can’t trust myself.”
Her eyes softened, but her grip on my hand was steady. “Derek only fooled you because you wanted to see the good. That’s not weakness, Lila. That’s hope. And hope is what makes you who you are. Just now, whoever wants your trust has to earn it.”
I blinked hard against the sting of tears. “What if I’m not good at telling the difference? Between who should have it and who shouldn’t?”
“Then that’s why you have me. And the rest of us. We’ll tell you. We’ll scream it from the rooftops if we have to.” Sage leaned in close, her forehead almost bumping mine. “You’re not alone. Not in this.”
The knot in my chest loosened, just a little. I let out a shaky laugh. “God, I don’t deserve you.”
“You absolutely do,” she said firmly. Then her lips quirked. “Besides, if you’re really worried about bad decisions, I’m pretty sure my brother already volunteered to glower anyone out of your orbit. Did you see him tonight? East showed up for you.” She gave me a sly look.
Heat crept up my neck. “Easton wasn’t there for me,” I hedged.
“Why would he have been? He was there for you. He came when you called. He was protecting his family.” That’s what Easton Holt cared about.
Everyone knew that. It was too much to hope for that he’d come for me.
That was ridiculous, although I had put his number in my phone like he’d asked, but only because I’d promised.
The guy was a screaming red flag. He was the good guy for his family, but a one-night-stand sort of man. He’d be out of this town just as fast as any out-of-towner. Nothing I did would compel him to stay, and there would be no way I’d leave Wildwood Meadows ever again. This was my home.
“Hmm.” Sage sat up and sipped her tequila like she wasn’t buying it at all. “Funny, I didn’t realize you counted as family.”
I threw a balled-up napkin at her, but she just cackled.
“Eat another slice,” she said, victorious. “Because I’m not carrying your dramatic ass if you faint mid-heart-to-heart.”
I snorted, swiping at my eyes as I reached for another slice. Sage grinned before flipping the TV over to the cheesiest rom-com she could find.