His mouth hung open. “Darling,” he began.

“And you, Oliver, you get to be the nice parent, the perfect husband with all the women just waiting for a crack in our marriage so they can slide in, and you think I didn’t notice that slut hanging all over you tonight? Who is she?”

“What? Who? No one was—”

“Oh, sure. You’re so fucking clueless. Next thing you know, you’ll be cheating. Just like my father.” Tears were streaming down her face, and the breath was ripping in and out of her.

“Cheating? Me?”

“I’m tired, Oliver! I can’t do this anymore! I can’t be perfect and work and shower and pretend to like salmon so the girls will eat it. I hate salmon! I got a warning tonight to pretend I’m not Arwen’s boss because it offends her, and she gives good press! My father’s a lump, my sister lives in her own little world, and I’m watching my mother fade away. What am I going to do if she dies? I have no friends! Brianna hates me, Sloane’s behind in school, and I’m outranked at work by someone eleven years younger than me! I feel like I’m screaming and no one can hear!”

“Darling,” he said, going to her, but she didn’t want him to touch her, because she felt so brittle, she was afraid she’d shatter.

She stood up, avoiding his open arms. “I’m going to my mother’s for a few days. I just . . . Tell the girls she needs extra help with my father.”

“Please don’t,” he said. “Let’s talk, sweetheart. You’ve just said so much, I can barely process it.”

“No. I never want to talk again. I hate everything I just said.”

“Juliet. Sweetheart.”

“I’ll see you in a few days.”

With that, she went back to her closet, her safe space, threw some clothes into her carry-on and left.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Sadie

Pepper and I went over to my parents’ house the day after Juliet’s party and found my sister crying at the kitchen table, Mom patting her hand.

“What happened?” I said. “Where’s Dad?” Panic speared my heart.

“He’s fine. He’s watching SpongeBob,” Mom said.

“What’s wrong, Jules?”

“Nothing,” she wept. Pepper tried to crawl on her lap, whining. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, liar. First, I’m going to change the channel. SpongeBob? Is there something wrong with National Geographic? Then I’m coming back in here for the truth.”

“You can’t handle the truth,” Mom said.

“Mom! Did you make a joke? A Tom Cruise joke? What is this weird parallel universe I’m living in? Be right back.”

My father was smiling at the TV. “Hi, Dad,” I said.

He looked up at me. “Say.”