“Don’t, what? Don’t act like I care?” I leaned against the car, crossing my arms. “Sorry, can’t help it.”

She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “Jesus Christ, I don’t need your damn pity, Beverly. I mean, go ahead,” she muttered. “Tell me. You win. You have him, okay? I give up. I’m done.”

God, I wanted to be mad at her.

“I didn’t say you needed pity.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

I thought about that for a second.

Maybe because I had been there—sitting alone in my room, trying not to cry, feeling like I had lost something I hadn’t been ready to let go of.

Maybe because, despite everything, I didn’t hate her.

So I answered honestly.

“Because no guy is worth crying over like this.”

Sydney snorted, bitter and exhausted. “Please spare me the ‘you’re better than this’ speech. I don’t need it.”

“Good. I suck at speeches anyway.”

For a second, I thought she might snap again or just roll up the window in my face, dismissing me without another word.

Instead, she let out a shaky breath and looked down at her lap. Her voice was quieter when she spoke. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She exhaled slowly, shoulders slumping slightly.

“I wanted him to love me,” she admitted, so softly that if I hadn’t been standing right there, I might have missed it. “I really, really thought…if I just gave him enough time… I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Then why does it feel like I am?”

I didn’t know how to answer that.

Because I understood exactly what she meant.

Her lip trembled, and a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

I reached into my bag, pulled out a handful of tissues, and shoved them into her hands.

She took them without a word, dabbing at her wet cheeks. “You’re nice,” she muttered, as if it annoyed her.

“You deserve nice.”

She sighed, staring out the windshield for a long moment. “He’s just…so easy to love, isn’t he?”

My heart twisted painfully in my chest.

My first instinct was to argue, but the truth was that once you loved Blake McHayes, it was damn near impossible to stop.

“Yeah,” I admitted quietly. “He is.”

Sydney wiped her eyes, her breathing finally starting to even out. Then, out of nowhere, she let out a dry, almost amused huff. “You know what’s pathetic? The second I walked away, all I could think about was storming back in there and yelling at him again. Just to get it out of my system.”

“Go for it. I’ll even hold him down for you. Get it all out.”