Chapter 4

I got home, pushed open the bedroom door, and froze in place.

Daryl and Brooke were lying on their sides on the bed, pressed close together.

He heard the door and turned to look at me. "Why are you back? I thought you'd be staying the night."

My throat closed up. I couldn't get a single sound out.

A moment later, Daryl seemed to realize something. He pulled his hand back from Brooke's stomach, a flash of obvious panic crossing his face.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Bee's on her period and caught a cold, and the cramps were unbearable. I was just rubbing her stomach to help."

I pulled the corners of my mouth into a silent, hollow smile.

When my own cramps had once left me curled up on the floor, I'd pressed his hand to my stomach and asked him to do the same for me. He'd pulled his hand back, handed me a cup of hot water instead, and told me I'd feel better if I just drank more of it.

My legs felt like they'd been filled with lead. I couldn't make myself move. Daryl pulled me out of the bedroom and quietly shut the door behind us.

"Bee finally fell asleep. Don't wake her up."

I took a deep breath, turned, and went to the closet to pull out a suitcase.

"Can you not make a scene right now?"

Daryl snatched the suitcase from me, his face darkening, his voice dropping low, like he was afraid of disturbing something.

"I already explained it to you. Nothing's going on between me and Bee."

He paused awhile, impatience creeping into his eyes. "Besides, if we actually wanted to be together, would there even be room for you in the picture?"

I suddenly felt like a joke. Being with me had only ever been Daryl's second choice, something he settled for, a kind of charity.

He could take his charity back now. This time, I didn't want to settle anymore.

"I'm not making a scene. I have a business trip." I pulled the suitcase back. "My flight's the morning after next. I came back to pack."

"A business trip? Where to?"

"Zwinterland."

"For how long?"

Brooke drifted over. "What's this about?"

"A business trip. Zwinterland. She leaves the morning after next," Daryl answered for me.

Brooke looked at him, visibly relieved. "Well, that solves everything, doesn't it?"

I had no idea what she meant.

Brooke leaned against the doorframe. "We're supposed to go see the northern lights, also leaving the morning after next. We could only get two tickets, and I wasn't sure how to tell you."

Two tickets. For her and Daryl. I was the extra one.

"Perfect, then. No problem after all." Brooke stepped inside. "When you're back, we'll find another chance to all go together."

We wouldn't need to. There wouldn't be another chance.

"Daryl, I need to go pack."

Daryl gave me a scolding look. "It's windy and cold out there. Do you want your stomach cramping up again after I just finished rubbing it?"

Brooke looked at him, torn.

A moment later, Daryl came up with a solution. "You don't need to go anywhere. Your clothes are right here."

It was true. Daryl and I had lived together for three years, and the walk-in closet had always belonged to Brooke alone. The day I moved in, he'd said he couldn't touch her things without asking her first. When I asked where my own clothes were supposed to go, he'd opened the door to a guest room and pointed at the closet inside, telling me nobody used it, so I could put mine there.

And that was where my clothes had stayed for three years, in a guest room closet. Now Brooke had moved into the master bedroom too. Fine. Everything could just go back to where it belonged.

Daryl let out a soft sigh. "I'll help you pack, then."

He turned to go.

"Daryl." Brooke stopped him. Then she looked over at me. "You should help Lizzie pack instead. I can manage on my own."

Daryl didn't move, just turned his head back toward her.

"You always say you can manage, and every time, you forget something or leave something behind. Who ends up cleaning up after you in the end?"

His gaze landed on me for a moment before he answered.

"She can manage on her own. She doesn't need me."

It wasn't that I didn't need him. It was that he'd made it clear: whatever I could handle myself, I shouldn't bother bringing to him.

"Oh, so now you're accusing me of being careless, is that it? I'll show you." Brooke chased after him, and the two of them left the guest room together.

My phone buzzed.

[Due to airline schedule changes, your flight has been moved up 15 hours and 45 minutes. Please plan to depart earlier than originally scheduled.]