Chapter 1
I knew I should have refused the dinner invitation.
The restaurant was all warm light and polished wood. A candle burned between four wineglasses. Serena was laughing at something Marcus had said, and Marcus was smiling the way he did when he wanted everyone to feel at ease.
I sat beside him with my hands in my lap.
Across the table, Andre reached for his glass. I caught the movement from the corner of my eye and looked away.
Marcus leaned close.
“You haven’t eaten anything.”
“I’m tired,” I whispered.
He touched my knee beneath the table. It was such a gentle, familiar gesture that I almost started crying.
Three weeks earlier, I would have rested my hand over his.
Now I could barely breathe.
Serena turned toward me. “Nia, you have to hear the rest of this.”
I tried to smile.
Andre looked at me.
The smile vanished.
I pushed back my chair. “Excuse me. I need some air.”
Marcus’s hand fell away.
“Are you okay?”
“I’ll be right back.”
I walked past the bar and into the short hallway near the restrooms. The music faded behind me. I pressed my palms against the cool wall and took one shaky breath.
I had promised myself I could get through one dinner.
Then I heard footsteps.
“Nia.”
I turned. Andre stood at the mouth of the hallway, blocking my view of the table.
“What are you doing here?”
“You’ve barely looked at me.”
“Go back.”
He took another step. “We need to talk.”
“We talked already.”
“You told me to forget it happened.”
I folded my arms tightly. “I told you it could never happen again.”
His face hardened. “You’re acting like I forced you.”
I stared at him.
“That’s what you think this is about?”
“You’ve treated me like some monster all night.”
“Marcus is out there. Serena is out there.”
“I know where they are.”
“Then why did you follow me?”
Andre glanced toward the dining room. “Because you keep making this worse.”
A laugh escaped me, thin and miserable.
“Worse? I wake up every morning beside a man who trusts me. I hear him ask if I slept well, and I lie to his face.”
Andre said nothing.
I had met Marcus four years earlier at a crowded street fair. He had bought the last lemonade from a stand, seen me looking for one, and handed it over before I could ask. He still remembered every small thing I liked.
I had taken that trust and broken it.
“I feel sick about what we did,” I said.
Andre lowered his voice. “You wanted it too.”
“I know.”
“Then stop looking at me like I’m the only one who did something wrong.”
“I’m not.”
I had no excuse. I had been lonely and angry after an argument with Marcus. Andre had stayed behind after the others left a party. I could trace every decision I had made that night. None of them led anywhere but to me.
Andre moved closer. “You said you wanted to see me again.”
“Then I came to my senses.”
“You said it last week, too.”
“I meant it last week. I mean it now. There won’t be another time.”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you going to tell Marcus?”
My stomach dropped.
“I don’t know.”
“And Serena?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“You tell them, you destroy both relationships.”
“We already did that.”
He looked past my shoulder. All the color left his face.
“What?” I whispered.
I turned.
Marcus stood a few feet behind me. I had never seen him look so still.
For one desperate second, I hoped he had only just arrived.
Then he said, “What exactly did you two do?”
I opened my mouth. My throat closed.
Andre stepped back. “Marcus, let me—”
Marcus raised a hand without looking at him.
“I asked Nia.”
The dining room seemed impossibly close. A server passed its entrance carrying plates, unaware that my life had stopped in the hallway.
“Marcus,” I said, “please let me explain.”
“I heard you say you feel sick about what you did. Start there.”
I wiped at my eyes.
Before I could speak, another voice reached us.
“Start where?”
Serena stood behind Marcus. Her smile from the table was gone.
She looked at Andre. Then at me.
“Why are you both back here?”
“Serena,” Andre said.
She shook her head. “You followed her. I watched you.”
Marcus turned toward me. “How long?”
I tried to answer. I had spent three weeks rehearsing words in my head, yet none of them seemed honest enough now.
“How long, Nia?”
Andre looked away.
Serena saw him do it. She gripped the strap of her purse.
“Oh, God.”
Tears ran down my cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Marcus flinched.
“That doesn’t answer me.”
I looked at the floor. “It happened once.”
Andre’s head snapped toward me.
That look lasted only a second, but everyone saw it.
Marcus’s voice went quiet. “Why did he look at you like that?”
Andre opened his mouth.
“Don’t,” I said.
Serena stepped nearer. “Nia, what does ‘once’ mean?”
My chest ached. I had counted one night because I needed the lie to be small. I had never counted the messages afterward, or the afternoon I had met Andre to tell him we had to stop. I had certainly never counted the way I had let him kiss me goodbye.
Marcus waited.
He deserved the whole truth. So did Serena.
I reached for words I had been afraid to say since the night it happened.
May you like
Andre spoke first.
“Nia,” he said sharply, “think before you answer.”
