Chapter 38
Autumn
Summer’s standing behind Tucker, Jane at her shoulder, Haru right behind. None of us saw them approach.
“He’s your bodyguard, not your boyfriend?” Summer says.
Everyone is looking at us now. Our dad, Nessa, Haru, Jane, Summer. Even Hanna and Easton.
“He’s—”
I turn my gaze to Tucker, pleading with him with my eyes. For a moment, I think I’m getting through to him; there’s a flicker of emotion there. Then his eyes shutter and he shakes his head.
“You were faking. Why?”
“Summer—”
“Answer me.”
I’ve never seen my sister this mad. Maybe I’ve never seen my sister mad at all.
“I wanted your wedding to be all about you. I wanted you to…” I’m having trouble breathing. “Be happy.”
Something very like hurt flickers across my sister’s face before it’s replaced again with that tight anger. “And you thought this was the way. Pretending that your bodyguard was your boyfriend. Pretending that you were happy so I’d be happy. What kind of sense does that make?”
“I—”
But I can’t answer her. I can’t make it make sense to her because now that it’s said out loud, I can’t make it make sense to me.
“And why the hell did you need a bodyguard for my wedding?”
“It was my idea,” our dad says.
We all turn to look at him.
“Your sister has an enemy, a stalker of some sort. They made an account—How to Be Miserable. I was worried for her.”
My sister’s eyes, as she listens to our dad, are huge, but her anger is still aimed at me. “You have a stalker, and you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t—I didn’t want to scare you.”
“How much of a baby do you think I am that I can’t deal with anything about your life? You can’t tell me any little bit of truth because I can’t hack it?”
I wish I could tell her she’s all wrong, but she’s way too right. I’ve spent all this time since her mental health struggles surfaced thinking she’s too brittle for anything but sugar coating. And that’s all on me.
“This is my fault.”
The new voice is my brother’s. Once again, our attention swivels.
“I wrote the posts. I made How to Be Miserable.”
“You what?”
That’s our dad, furious.
“I made the account and wrote the posts,” Haru says. “It didn’t occur to me for one second that anyone would take them seriously. I was one hundred percent sure you’d all know instantly that it was me. The cheese platter. Autumn—”
He gives me a pleading glance. I shake my head, no idea where he’s going.
“When Nana got so mad at me for cutting the point off the end of the brie and I hid in the bathroom.”
My hand flies to my mouth. I hadn’t made the connection, but of course I remember that day with our other grandmother.
Haru had been so upset. I’d told him not to worry about it, that there were a lot worse mistakes you could make.
I’d said, It’s not murder. It’s a cheese.
And I’d been so gratified by his little-boy belly laugh.
Haru swallows. “The whole first day the account was out, I kept waiting for Autumn’s fuck you, Haru to pop up in the family group chat.
And then it didn’t, and didn’t…and then I got here and this whole thing had been set in motion because of me, and I tried to tell Autumn, but everything was happening so fast because of the wedding… ”
We all stand stock still, trying to absorb what we just learned.
“You’re such a doofus,” Summer says finally.
“I know,” Haru says, hanging his head.
“But at least he was just trying to make us all laugh,” she says, turning on our dad and me. “And he thought we were smarter and tougher than we are. You two…you didn’t think I could handle a few simple truths.”
I watch the accusation hit home on Dad’s face at the same time I feel it strike its target in my chest. She’s right. Haru’s crime was thinking we’d get the joke.
Mine was making my sister feel small, when she’d only started to feel big.
I try again to explain the why, as if maybe that will help. “We didn’t want you to have to handle them while you were in the middle of enjoying your wedding.”
Even as the words are coming out of my mouth, I know they can’t override my actions, which speak loudly enough for themselves.
“You can tell yourself whatever you want,” my sister says, “but the cold hard truth of it is that you lied to me.”
“Summer—”
She’s turning away, grabbing Jane’s hand, yanking her back toward the lodge.
“We need to get some sleep,” she says over her shoulder, short and curt. “We have a wedding tomorrow.”