Adam pulled the truck past the open, large wrought-iron gates anchored into stone pillars that marked the entrance to the Robertses’ property. High over their heads was the arched metal sign: Four Roberts Ranch, flanked on either side with two metal-cut, rearing stallions. Heather’s family had money—lots of money. It was just one more reason for Clare to hate her. A snide comment about Heather and her great good fortune of being born into a family that owned half of Casper rose in her mind but died on her lips. Adam, ever the perfect person, had always chastised her about her habit of saying gossipy things about people, but lately, as the connections between them seemed to pull thinner and become less sure, his tolerance for her laser-point critical accuracy was nonexistent.

A coldness shifted into her chest as a loneliness she had never really known swept in. The person she loved most in this world had become a stranger. Someone she didn’t know anymore—someone who didn’t know her. They had grown up together, had been the first of everything to each other. She had assumed it would always be that way. Now it was like everything she had ever known was wrong. If she didn’t have Adam, who did she have?

No one. Not one person who really, really knew her. He knew her and loved her because of that knowing—or even in spite of it.

Adam drove his truck up the paved, tree-lined lane that led to the Robertses’ ranch. She hated Heather, was afraid and jealous of Heather—but she couldn’t say any of that to Adam. Not anymore. She was terrified of pushing him any further away than he already was.

Before they could even see the house, two parallel rows of parked cars were stacked up on either side of the lane.

“Jesus,” Adam said as he braked and shifted the truck into reverse so he could pull in behind the last car on the right. “It’s like the whole world is already here.” Once he had set the parking brake and put his keys in his usual place, folded into the sun visor above his steering wheel, they got out so they could walk the rest of the way to the party.

It was warm, with the scent of late spring carried on the gentle breeze that was rustling the leaves of the giant cottonwoods that stood like ancient sentinels along the road. Clare met Adam where he was waiting for her next to the blue Jeep they had parked behind. They turned in the direction of the house and could hear the music and voices of the party in the distance. She reached for his hand, and he took it in a limp grasp.

“This will be fun,” she said and turned to check his profile.

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath and sighed it out.