Page 88 of Forbidden Fruit
“I know you said they live in Europe,” my dad continues, “but it’s strange. Our daughter’s getting married, and we’ve never even spoken to Calvin’s family. Not one person.”
Oh God. I feel my heart pound as the silence around the table thickens.
“They’re just really busy, Dad,” Abigail says, her voice tight with frustration. “I’ve talked to his mom. She’s lovely, really. She sends her regrets for not making it to the wedding. But it’s going to be a small affair anyway. We don’t need everyone there.” Her tone slices through the air, and for a moment, the whole room seems to pause.
I clear my throat softly, forcing a smile. “You know, my graduation’s coming up soon,” I say, trying to sound casual. “It would mean everything to have you all there. You’d love it.”
Abigail glances over at me, her shoulders softening as she offers a faint, grateful smile. I reach under the table and give her hand a gentle squeeze.
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mom says.
“Of course we wouldn’t,” Dad adds. “We’ll find a way, no matter how busy things get.”
After dinner, Dad suggests a game of Monopoly, and we all jump at the idea, grateful for the distraction, for something simple and familiar to fill the space between us.
Hours later, I’m still awake, phone clutched in my hand. His name glows on the screen, and I ache, bone-deep, soul-deep, to hear his voice. But I don’t call. I just stare.
God, I hate myself for this. For wanting him the way I do. For letting it hollow me out and fill me at the same time.
This thing I thought I could control has taken over me. It’s relentless, consuming every thought, every inch of me, leaving me trembling with need I can’t tame. Every touch, every secret moment we steal feels carved into my skin. He makes me feel alive… too alive. Like I’ve been colorless my whole life, and he’s the first taste of something real.
And I want to believe it.
I want to believe that when he says my name, it isn’t just lust wearing tenderness as a disguise. That he means it and I’m not something to be regretted in the quiet after, but something to be chosen.
Claimed.
Kept.
But I have to know better. Because in a few weeks, he’s marrying her. My sister, who deserves everything I’ve taken. I tell myself to stop. To end it. But every time he looks at me, I fall apart. One glance, one whisper, and I’m his again. I know how this ends. There’s no world where this doesn’t burn. But I can’t stop; I don’t want to.
I love him. And that, I think, is the most tragic part of it all.
“This is going to be so fun!” Abigail chirps, looping her arm through mine as soon as we get out of her car. “Dress shopping with my favorite girl, what more could I want?”
I smile, trying not to let the guilt crawl up my throat like smoke. Favorite girl. If she only knew.
“Yeah,” I say lightly. “Fun.”
She stops walking and looks at me, her smile faltering. “Oh, come on! Lighten up and have fun with me, please. You’ve been so different since I came home. Are you mad at me or something?”
Shit.
She’s not wrong. I’ve been a mess since she came back, not just because of what Calvin and I have been doing behind her back, but because he and I fought, and then he left for his business trip. No texts. No calls. And I hate how much I miss him. Hate that I feel abandoned by someone Ihave no right to feel that way about. Hate that I just want to hear his voice and feel likehisagain.
“No, Abby, I promise I’m not mad at you. I just… I didn’t sleep well,” I lie. “But you’re right, this is going to be fun!”
She eyes me for a beat, like she’s not entirely convinced, then pulls me into one of those signature Abigail hugs. The kind that makes you feel like the world could be on fire and she’d still make it okay.
“I love you so much, Blair. You don’t understand how happy I am that you’re here.”
Tears sting the corners of my eyes, so I laugh to shake them off and step back.
“Okay, enough with the sappy shit. There’s no way I’m crying before shopping. That’s like… fashion law.”
She laughs, wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of her eye. “God, I missed you.”
Hand in hand, we walk into the boutique, and it’s like walking into another world.
