“You were hoping he wouldn’t come,” she says.
“But I knew he would.”
“At least, you look fabulous.” She spins me around to examine her work.
“It doesn’t really matter how I look. He’s seen me before.” I refuse to let tonight become entirely about Sterling.
“He’s never seen you looking like this,” she says.
Maybe that’s why I’m so calm. Yes, I’m back here where everything started between us. But when I slipped on my gown I didn’t find a girl looking back at me in the mirror. So, it had taken a fair bit of fashion tape to keep the girls inside the dress’s lightly-boned bodice. No panties exist that could be worn with the closely draped silk skirt, but I felt powerful in the crimson number. Usually, I wanted to fade into the background at these events, eager to avoid the same crowd I’d known my whole life. Tonight? I want to be seen. I want him to see me. I want him to face what he left behind.
“Are you ready for this?” she asks.
“As I’ll ever be.”
We’ve been having some version of this conversation for the past two weeks. Together, we dissected every moment of the disastrous dinner at my house. I told her about my confrontation with him in the hall, but I might have left out the bit where he admitted why he came back.
For you.
I omitted that part because I’ve been trying to forget he said it. I haven’t had much success.
I don’t know what he meant by it. It’s not like he’s been beating down my door begging for another chance. Every moment I spend with him only leaves me feeling more confused, because until that night in the hall, I wasn’t sure I meant a thing to him.
And Sterling?
He’s my line in the sand—the defining moment of my life. Nothing was the same after I met him. There’s no forgetting him. My mother once told me that you never stop loving your first love. I asked her if she was still in love with the first boy who stole her heart. She’d just given me a sad smile. When Sterling left, I wondered how I would feel if I saw him again. Now I know.
I hate him—and the thing I hate the most about him is that part of me doesn’t hate him at all.
“I’ve been thinking. Maybe you two should talk. Really talk,” Poppy suggests. She holds up a hand before I can reject this idea. “Hear me out. There’s a lot you two left unsaid.”
“He doesn’t deserve it. I don’t owe him anything,” I shoot back.
“I’m not saying you do,” she says quickly, sensing my volatile mood. “It’s just that if you think he came back because of you — if you think this thing with him buying into your family’s company has something to do what happened between the two of you — then you need to get it out in the open.”
“He made his decision about us a long time ago.” I don’t need to remind Poppy about what happened. Sterling left after he blew up my entire world. Now he’s back playing some sort of game and acting like he didn’t inflict any damage years ago. “He should be begging me for forgiveness.”
“Maybe you should tell him that.”
I shake my head. ”Why should I have to tell him anything?”
“Because he obviously doesn’t get it. It’s the fatal flaw of men: obliviousness.”
“He doesn’t seem very oblivious to me.” I flashback to Sterling advancing toward me in the hall. My body had synced to his in that moment, moving in tune with him. I’d retreated because I knew he would chase me.
The pantry door cracks open and Cyrus pops his head in. “What are you two doing in here? Everyone is looking for you.”
My stomach flips, even though I know he means Poppy. As confident as I feel I can’t deny that each passing second is filing away at my already frayed nerves.
“We were just having a chat,” Poppy says cheerily, as though we don’t have a care in the world, and whispering in pantries is perfectly normal behavior for grown women.
“Are you two ready to rejoin civilization then?” he asks.
I open my mouth to say yes, but Poppy picks this moment to tattle on me. “Adair is dreading Sterling’s presence.”
“Traitor,” I mutter.
“It’s completely obvious,” she says defensively. “Plus, Cyrus needs to look out for you when I’m needed. Right, darling?”
“Of course—” Cyrus wraps an arm around her waist, “—when I can take my eyes off you.”
“Do you two need a moment alone in the pantry?” The last thing I need is to be party to their particular brand of affection. It’s so sugary, I feel like I should stir it into some tea.
“Sorry.” He doesn’t look the least bit like he means it. Cyrus always has something to prove when it comes to his feelings for Poppy. Tonight is no different. “Honestly, Adair, we’re all adults now. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
Poppy clears her throat and he changes course. “Naturally, I’ll step in if necessary.”
“Thanks.” I swallow back a sigh. I’m so tired of my friends trying to protect me. “But I can take care of myself.”
“Still…” Cyrus leaves the offer hanging. He kisses Poppy. “I’ll see you out there.”
“Why does everyone always assume I need help?” I grumble as soon as he’s gone.
Poppy grabs my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter if you need our help. Our friendship isn’t merit-based. We’re going to help because we’re your friends. End of story.”
“When did you get so bossy?” I ask.
“When you decided to get whiny,” she tells me. “You’re stronger than this. You always have been. Sterling coming back was unexpected. I don’t blame you for being shaken, but now it’s time to dust yourself off and remember who you are.”
“But,” I begin.
“If ifs and buts were candy and nuts, we’d all have a Merry Christmas,” she stops me.
I can’t help laughing at this. “What does that mean?”
“You can’t live your life
