“The one where you were basically catatonic for a year?” Zach asked. “Yeah, good times.”
Spencer flipped him off.
“That was a hell of a long time ago.” Patton crossed his arms over his chest.
“I know we were kids, but I loved her. I mean, she was everything. Losing her was a nightmare. I believed we were forever. It felt like it would be. But if you love someone like that, you have to put them first, right?” He barely looked at them. “Her mom used to abuse her. Mostly mentally, but she got hit too. Tatum would make excuses, forgive her, but it ate at her—tore her down. And no matter how much I told her Dad could help, or the school could help, she felt responsible for her mom. Her mom used the guilt card a lot. Her dad kept asking her to come live with him, but she wouldn’t go. Because of me.”
Patton ran a hand over his face.
Zach set his empty glass on the floor. “So you dumped her.”
Spencer nodded, sitting on the edge of the lumpy couch. “I made Dad call her father in California when she wouldn’t leave. She wasn’t safe here and I couldn’t let it go on.”
“I know you guys were pretty serious,” Zach said, leaning forward. “So I’m assuming you pulled out the big guns for this breakup?”
“Cheating rumors.” Patton glanced his way.
“Ouch,” Zach said.
“Worse.” He dropped his head in his hands. “Her mom...her mom used to say there was something wrong with her. That she needed to fix it or no one would ever love her. I said it to drive her away.”
“Aw, shit, Spence,” Zach groaned. “That’s just mean. And teenage girls... I mean. You’re king of the assholes.”
“Why say anything now?” Patton asked.
“She said I was right.” He shook his head. “She said that our relationship taught her never to love that much again. I had to tell her what I’d done. I had to.”
Zach groaned.
Patton sighed.
He didn’t bother lifting his head.
“So you begged for forgiveness?” Patton asked.
“On your knees?” Zach added.
“You saw how well that went,” Spencer murmured. “I probably wouldn’t forgive me, either.”
“We need more whiskey,” Zach said, reaching for the bottle. “It’s
gonna be a long night.”
* * *
TATUM HAD NEVER had a hangover before. Everything ached. Her head, her eyes, her eyelids.
“Drink this,” Celeste said, putting a glass of something green on the table in front of her.
“What is it?” she asked, her tongue thick and heavy.
“You drank all of these?” Lucy asked, scraping the army of miniature alcohol bottles into the trash. “Vodka. And tequila. Did you throw up?”
“Not yet.” Tatum pressed a hand to her stomach. “Not to be rude, but why are you all here?”
“We’d talked about looking at the tearoom books, remember?” Celeste patted her hand.
“And you’d volunteered to make dessert tonight and, after last night, we thought we could help.” Lucy sighed.