“Darling,” he purred, one hand around her waist. “You are upsettingly sober.”
Bitsy’s smile was bright as she leaned into Zach. “Can’t have consensual sex if I’m blackout.”
They both laughed like lovers conspiring. It was a punishment, and it was working. But even now, Darlene could see the difference in Zach’s seduction of Bitsy versus herself. There’d always been a vulnerability in Zach’s eyes when they were together, belying the depth of feeling he had for her. With Bitsy, he was back to being a game show host.
“Zach,” Darlene said. “Can we please talk?”
“Go, enjoy the party, Mitchell. There’s loads of really smart people here.” He walked his fingers up Bitsy’s bare arm. “You’re so brilliant, Bits. How much do I have to pay you to snog me?”
Bitsy curled into him, delighted. “Darling, I am completely free of charge.”
The only way to stop this was with honesty. As much as everything inside her was wincing, saying No, no, don’t do it, Darlene willed the words to leave her lips. “Zach, I have real feelings for you.”
Bitsy glanced at her. “What?”
Darlene moved closer. “I care about you, Zach. I like you. A lot.” She gazed desperately at Bitsy, willing girl code. “Please. Five minutes.”
Bitsy took one look at Zach’s expression and backed up. “I am not about drama or being used to make someone else jealous.” She stepped past Darlene, pausing to murmur in her ear, “Just so you know: Zach is adult Disneyland. Get tested.”
And even though it was meant to be a warning, it just made Darlene see Zach clearer—as someone who treated his insecurities with casual sex because he didn’t think he deserved anything better.
Darlene drew him away from the bright lights and shouted conversations, toward a copse of red maple trees on the far edges of the backyard. The party was just a smudge in the middle distance; they were alone. An owl hooted. An unseen animal rustled in the undergrowth. Shadows pooled over Zach’s face as he slugged from a bottle of red wine that spilled down his shirtfront like a gush of blood.
“What I did was wrong, Zach,” Darlene began. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I was trying to impress Charles by being mean about you. He’s always made me feel intellectually inferior, and I still feel insecure around him. Being mean was immature and cruel. What I said was a lie, Zach. I was lying.”
“Am I just a joke to you? Stupid Zach Livingstone, just a clown who’s always on call—”
“No! No, Zach—”
“A donkey?” His voice rose, furious and devastated and ringing with passion. “A fucking donkey?” Zach threw both arms wide. Red wine arced in the air, splattering to the earth. He was shouting. “Jesus Christ, I worshipped you. I was so absolutely, ridiculously in love with you. For months. Bloody months.” His expression was raw pain. “But now all I see is someone who thinks I’m an idiot.”
“But I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“I don’t get it. I don’t get any of it.” He jammed the heel of his hand into his eye, rubbing hard. “Why’d you ghost me after the Harvard Club? You were feeling it, I know you were, then poof! You clammed up. Why?”
“I needed some… boundaries.”
“Why?” He was frustrated, shouting at the stars. “Talk to me, tell me how you’re feeling, God.”
“I didn’t know if I gave in and let myself—let us—be something, that you wouldn’t just, like, run off with some other girl in a few weeks.”
“What the hell did I do to make you think that?” He was so close she could smell the red wine on his breath. “You were all I could think about. It was only you. And then you go and say—that. To Charles.”
“But I didn’t mean it.” Her heart was jackhammering in her chest. This wasn’t how she imagined saying it. But now, it might be the only thing that could save them. “Zach, I… I care about you.”
Nothing. Silence, but for the throbbing bass of the distant speakers. Zach went still, suddenly alert. His eyes darted back and forth between her own. “Care?”
“Yes.” She nodded. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I care about you a lot.”
“Care?” He repeated it like he knew it was code for the word she couldn’t say, even now. “God, what is wrong with you? Why can’t you talk about your feelings?”
“Because I’m not you, Zach!” Darlene exploded with guilt and anger, her defenses blasting apart. “I don’t get to be you. I don’t get to waltz through life. I don’t get to make mistakes. I don’t have a safety net. My life is really hard, in a million ways you will never understand, and I screwed up. I screwed up, and I’m sorry.”
Zach listened, astounded. Shame-faced. He nodded, rubbing his forehead. “Fair. Yes, of course, that’s bloody fair.” Then his hand fell to his side. “So how does making me second-best to Eeyore fit into that?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just need you to know that despite everything, I had—have—very… strong… feelings for you.”
Zach stared at her. Really stared. “Do you love me, Darlene? Is that it?”
Yes, that was it. And he needed to hear it. But no words left her lips. She wasn’t from a lovey-dovey family, she couldn’t parse this alcohol-soaked fight they
