52. Scarlett
Scarlett
I didn’t come down until mid-afternoon the next day.
The house had quieted by then—everyone walking on eggshells, waiting for me to either explode or disappear completely.
I did neither.
Just slipped out the side door with a mug of lukewarm coffee Hemingway on my heels, and sank into the porch swing like gravity had finally caught up to me.
The sky hung heavy, overcast and gray, as if the storm hadn’t left so much as drained the world and left it hollow.
The screen door creaked a few minutes later.
Sloane stepped out followed by Lena.
They didn’t speak.
Just sat. One on each side.
We rocked in silence for a while.
Lena was the first to speak. “You scared me last night.”
Her voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t even disappointed.
It was tired. Honest.
Sloane took a long sip from her water bottle. “That wasn’t you last night.”
I let the swing sway.
“It was,” I said finally. “Just a version of me I don’t usually let out.”
Hemingway settled into my lap, a weighted reminder that softness still existed.
Lena’s fingers picked at the edge of her hoodie. “You didn’t just push the limit, Scar. You lit it on fire and dared it to hold.”
I didn’t respond.
She turned slightly to face me, her green eyes soft but direct. “You’re allowed to lose it. But you don’t get to pretend it doesn’t affect the people who love you.”
That landed. Right in the chest.
I stared out at the lake. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“But you did,” Lena said. “Trace looked wrecked. Alden hasn’t spoken. Rhett… he hasn’t moved.”
Sloane exhaled hard. “And we’re not blaming you. But damn it, Scar. That was more than tequila and truth or dare.”
I swallowed, throat raw. “I know.”
Sloane leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Where is this going, Scar? What are you doing?”
I stared out at the lake.
“I don’t know. But I know I can’t stay here pretending I’m not unraveling.”
Lena reached over, placing a hand over mine. Warm. Steady. Heartbreaking.
“You don’t have to go to hell just to prove you can come back from it.”
I squeezed her fingers once.
Then let go.