Liam froze, his eyes locked on Julian. I inched backwards, trying to not get their attention.

“Look, it’s fine, you didn't know until just now, but today’s been really tough on Cerise,” my brother said. “My sister and Harper had been together forever and she lost him in a really shitty way—”

“Gael,” I snapped. He stopped talking and shot me an apologetic look. He knew I hated when people talked about it.

“I—” Liam’s gaze drifted to mine. “Harper…?” He said the words in a hushed voice, dawning horror crossing his face.

“Yeah. Harper.”

Liam opened his mouth but nothing came out. I could see his mind whirling, reconsidering everything he’d been thinking up until now.

I didn’t want to wait around for him to put it all together. I didn’t need to hear his apologies, didn’t need to hear his regrets.

I turned to Gael and Julian, ignoring Liam. “I’m taking off now.”

“Want me to come with you?” my brother asked.

The offer was thoughtful, but I didn’t want to be around anyone right then.

“No. It’s fine. I’ll grab a taxi.”

Gael studied me before nodding. “Get home safe.”

I turned and left before Liam could finish processing what he’d just learned.

I pushed my way through the writhing crowd of dancers to reach the exit. I saw Nathan and Seth in the corner chatting up two pretty girls. At least someone was having a fun night.

The bouncer opened the door for me. I stepped out into the cool evening air. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself. Trying to stem the tears from falling. Trying to swallow the hurt, the anger, the grief.

I forced myself to shove down the memories that threatened to surface.

I’d spent so long trying to forget how Harper had died. Losing him had been bad enough. Losing him the way I had, knowing exactly how he had been…

It was almost more than I could handle.

I looked down at my trembling hands, at the scratched up polish. I began to shake. I wrapped my arms around my waist, huddling into myself. Oozing black tendrils whirled inside me like a cyclone, and in the very middle was the eye of the storm threatening to suck me in.

I heard someone bursting through the club doors, heard someone call my name.

I couldn’t make myself move. My feet were glued to the pavement.

I knew it was Liam approaching from behind me. I heard his heavy breathing, as if he’d run the whole way.

“Cerise,” he repeated my name. He went silent, still taking in labored breaths.

I didn’t turn to look at him, instead focusing my eyes on the bright headlights of cars as they passed by. They were almost blinding, reminding me of spotlights. My body buzzed like it always did on stage, but there was no high, no rush from performing to go along with it.

“I am so sorry,” Liam began. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Should we start at the beginning?” I said. “Should we start with you throwing awful accusations at me?”

“That’s not the beginning, though,” he replied softly. “Is it?”

No. It wasn’t.

The beginning wasn’t even five years ago.

The beginning was so long ago I could barely remember how it started.

“Morris was never…” I started to say. I tried again. “It’s never been Morris. It was always—” A stab went through my gut. “It was always Harper.”

“He’s the one you were in love with,” Liam said, his voice low, pained.

“Childhood sweethearts, everyone always said,” I murmured. “We knew each other since we were kids. We grew up, developed feelings for each other. Neither of us wanted to say anything. We were afraid of losing our friendship.”

Now that I’d gotten started I couldn’t seem to stop. I rarely told anyone this story. The important people in my life already knew and I’d been trying to forget for years.

“Everyone could see we were in love,” I continued. “Morris was the one who pushed us together. Literally.” I let out a weak snort. “He shoved us into a closet during a game of truth or dare.”

I skipped over the rest. The happy memories were almost as painful as the bad ones.

“Harper proposed to me on my eighteenth birthday. No one was shocked. They thought we were too young, of course, and tried to talk us out of it, but they all knew it was going to happen sooner or later. And then…”

My voice faltered, knowing what was next. The storm inside me continued raging.

“Can I ask what happened?” Liam was barely audible over the passing cars. “How he died?”

I shook my head fiercely. “Not died.”

I turned to face Liam. I wanted to see his face when I told him.

“Harper was murdered.”

A flash of pain shot through his eyes. “Why would someone—?”

“You want me to give you all the gory details?”

“No,” he winced. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

“You know my neighborhood was rough. Drugs, violence, all of it.” I kept it short, to the point. “A gang wanted Morris to join. He was big, strong, the perfect guy to act as muscle. He refused. Over and over he refused. He’d always protected the neighborhood kids, kept them away from gangs trying to recruit. So they retaliated.” I spoke as quickly as I could, words tumbling out of my mouth, knowing that if I stopped I’d never be able to continue. "Harper was late coming home one night. I was so worried. Then a pair of cops showed up at the door. They didn't even need to tell me what had happened. Something inside me already knew."

The tears finally fell. I couldn’t contain them any longer.

“Morris was out drinking, partying," I continued. "He ignored Harper’s panicked phones calls."

I inhaled deeply and looked up. The evening was clear. Millions of tiny specks twinkled above me. It was more beautiful than the last time I’d watched the night sky. This wasn’t a planetarium. This was real. Those were real stars up there, burning bright and hot in the darkness of space. The burning of my eyes, the hot ache in my chest, the darkness at the very core of me, was almost fitting.

I looked down at my feet, unable to take such beauty when speaking of something so ugly.

“They cornered Harper in an alley. Jumped him, knifed him. Left him to bleed out. We didn’t know whether it was meant to be a warning, or if they planned on—” I exhaled a shuddering breath. “The coroner said it took more than an hour. Ever since, I've had to live with the fact that my fiancé died slowly, alone and in pain."

“Shit.” Liam took a step toward me and reached out, as if wanting to pull me against him.

I held up a shaky hand. “Don’t.”

He lowered his arms.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice was distressed, almost anxious. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like, to have to live with that.”

“It was hell,” I said flatly.

Liam made a movement to step forward, then halted, seeming to struggle with himself. He wanted to hold me, to comfort me.

But I wouldn’t have found comfort in his arms. Not anymore.

“I fell apart,” I continued. “Morris tried to put me back together, but seeing him only made it hurt more. So he left. And I've been trying to forget about it for years."

Liam couldn’t fight it anymore. He lurched forward and took me in his arms, burying his face in my hair.

“I am so fucking sorry,” he choked out.

I let him hold me, but didn’t return the embrace. Tears still fell down my cheeks, but I was numb inside. Now that the black sludge had completely taken over my chest, my heart, my lungs, my gut, it seemed to have settled. It was no longer a writhing mass. It was now simply a sticky tar coating every inch of me.

Liam pulled back to look into my eyes. I don’t know what he saw, but it made him flinch.

“You wanted to know everything from the very beginning,” I told him.

He nodded slowly. “I did.”

We stared at each other, not saying anything.

He looked away first. “I don’t know how to even begin apologizing.”

“You could start with, I’m sorry for accusing you of cheating on me.”

“I am sorry.” He forced himself to meet my gaze. “So sorry.”

“You thought I was going to sleep around behind your back with Morris,” I said. “Why would you think something like that? Do you really think so little of me?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I never actually thought that. I was just upset and worried and jealous and dealing with a bunch of other shit that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“You forbid me from seeing one of my oldest friends. You know how awful that is?”

“I shouldn't have given you that ultimatum.”

“No. You shouldn’t have.”

“I wish I could take it back.”

“You can’t.”

Hurt flashed across his face. “Is there anything I can say that will make you forgive me?”

“I understand you’re sorry about what you said. I get that. But I can’t be with somebody who doesn't trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he pressed. “I was just dealing with—”

“A bunch of other shit,” I finished for him. “Right.”

Liam went silent, casting his eyes down.

I rubbed at my nails. Completely smooth. All the polish had been scratched off.

I was done for the night. I couldn’t take any more.

“I accept your apology,” I told him. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

I made my way to the curb where taxis were waiting outside the club for drunken partiers ready to leave. I reached for a door handle. I looked back.

Liam was still staring at the ground.

“I’ll see you at rehearsals,” was all I said.

I slid into the car without another look.