Mandy arches an eyebrow, sipping on her wine. “You haven’t touched your food.”

“I’m not that hungry. I’ll bring it to work tomorrow for lunch.” I smile as sweetly as I can, but I’m pretty sure I look like I’m about to start ugly crying.

Mandy taps a perfectly painted fingernail against the glass, her gaze shifting between me and her beverage, as if she’s trying to string together her next sentence. Her eyes are hazel and hollow as they linger on mine, her head tilting slightly to one side. “So, what fucked up shit were you forced to do?”

She asks the question so casually—so nonchalant.

But it thunders through me like a typhoon, wreaking havoc on all of my fragile insides. My skin tingles, my hands clam up, my legs start to wobble in place. I latch onto the edge of the countertop to keep myself steady as I hold my breath. I hold it for a long time, afraid that my oxygen alone will spill out all of my secrets. I hold it until I feel dizzy and sick and lightheaded, and then I let it out like a harrowing confession. “I-I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s personal and traumatic, and I’m trying to forget those three weeks ever even happened…” I bite down on my lip to stop the words from flowing.

Mandy’s eyes narrow as she chugs down the rest of her wine. Then she slams the glass down on the counter, making me wince. “Something happened down there, Cora. I need to know.”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t!” The tears start spilling, my voice catching and breaking. “I can’t.”

Mandy is about to bite back when my cell phone vibrates between us on the island, resting only a foot away. We both look at it.

Dean’s name lights up the screen with a text message.

I glance at Mandy. She glances at me.

Then we both lunge for the phone at the same time, with Mandy coming out victorious. I practically scream in defiance. “No!” I race around the island to where Mandy is reading the message with her back turned to me. I wait for her to face me, my shoulders heaving, beyond horrified and nauseated by what she may be discovering right now.

Mandy lets out a gasp that sounds an awful lot like betrayal. She whips around, her eyes watering, gleaming with rage. “You bitch.”

I rip the phone away from her, my hands shaking as I skim over the message in a panic.

Don’t want to fight. Scared. I get it. Last night was everything. Slower. Start over. In this together.

Last night was everything.

“What happened last night, Cora?” Mandy demands, her tears erupting like rainfall. “Did you sleep with him?” Her voice changes in pitch, sounding more desperate and shrill with each word. “Did you fuck my fiancé?”

“I…”

“Tell me!”

I shake my head, a cry breaking through my lips.

“I want to hear it from your lying, filthy mouth.”