Without the tension between us Stanton sisters, a new problem popped up. No one knew what to do about Nick. For five years Cadence had labeled him a pariah. As the only other person in the room the day Marley died, I guided that narrative more than I ever realized. I allowed Nick to have that title, just as I allowed it to be crossed out. The problem for everyone, including myself, was that I didn’t know with what to replace it.

Who was Nick Cline to me now?

Who was he to everyone?

It hurt me to watch him, but leaders had to do things they didn’t like. I was going to give my role everything I had. With each step made toward the playground, I stayed locked on his face, ticking down agonizing seconds.

Two nights before, we’d run down dark streets together, holding hands and screaming. That memory did not touch me. It stretched so far out of the realm of things I expected that it took on the hazy, warm film of a fantasy. It was the sight of him huddled up that wrecked me. Being an older version of the Nick Cline he’d always been. The same Nick Cline who would’ve known how much it hurt me not to speak for five years.

I’d let the years between us float into the abstract, dazzled by the promise of adventure and the thrill of his surprise presence. That high had worn off. All that remained was the Olivia I’d become.

This newest Olivia Stanton, five years older and stronger and better, did not let people hurt her. She did not wait for apologies. She marched up to Nick and said, “Hey, stand up,” in a voice so harsh and firm it sounded almost cartoonish. “Apologize to everyone.”

In his head, Nick asked for what? then thought better of it, because after standing, he took a defensive step back, then two deliberate steps forward.

Once again, we circled around Ruby on the swing. This time, all attention fell to Nick. Uncomfortable as can be, he let his guard down for me to see he was sorry, so sorry, but he didn’t want to say it like this. Why hadn’t I let him say it the other night? Why did I need to make this so hard? His stare burned into the side of my face, desperate for my acknowledgment.

I leaned against the swing set to keep myself steady. “You don’t get to choose the easiest way for this to go,” I told him, like, I get it. I hear you.

“I…” He faltered.

“You left all of us behind. We would’ve been there for you,” I said.

Not that everyone was there for me either, but presenting a united front strengthened the illusion. Heat from his steady gaze crawled down my neck until red patches started to form along my collarbone.