I didn’t smash up Daniel’s car,” Ruth said.

Evan was back where he belonged—which was, she now realised, under her. On top of her would also do—or behind her, for that matter—but right now he was under her. She laid her head on his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart. It matched the stroke of his hand over her back.

How she loved being naked with him.

I love you.

“So that’s just another rumour,” he said.

“I don’t know. It’s not one I’ve ever heard before,” she replied. Hedging. Hesitating. Not because she didn’t trust him or because she was scared, but because this part of the story was the worst. The absolute worst. She licked her lips and said, “Who told you? What did they say?”

“I was with Daniel, at the newsagents, and Mrs. Needham was showing me a car. She said it looked like one Daniel had. She said…” He paused as if remembering exactly. “She said, That Kabbah girl smashed it to pieces. And then, well… Zach said something too, just a throwaway comment about how he didn’t judge because his brother has a record. So I just…”

Ruth nodded, his chest hair tickling her cheek. Then she said, “Hannah did it.”

She felt the surge of shock through him. Felt him lift his head to look down at her. “Seriously? Hannah?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Ruth sighed. “Because I told her… some things. Things that upset her. I was upset. So she calmed me down and put me to bed, and then she… Well, apparently, she went to Daniel’s house and smashed the shit out of his car.”

Evan released a long, quiet exhale. “Fuck. So Hannah…”

“Hannah was arrested.” Ruth could hear her own voice, flat and hollow. “She was charged and convicted with criminal damage and possession of an offensive weapon—”

“An offensive weapon?!”

“She used a cricket bat,” Ruth said dully. “It was her boyfriend’s. She got a suspended sentence, community service, and a fine. She ruined her life because of me.”

“Wait—what?” Evan’s body shifted beneath her as he raised himself up on his elbows.

She could feel him staring at her, but she couldn’t look. It was ridiculous, pathetic, but tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes.

“First of all,” he said, “she doesn’t seem like her life was ruined.”

“Well, it was,” Ruth snapped. “She’s a nursery nurse. I mean, she was a nursery nurse. That’s all she ever wanted to do—she got a fucking foundation degree and everything—and now she’s a waitress. She can’t work with kids. We used to volunteer at the library together, we did it for years, and now she can’t even do that.”

Ruth remembered the letter that had come from the council, informing Hannah of her unsuitability for the position she’d been filling since they were bloody teenagers. And Hannah had tried to pretend she wasn’t upset, but she’d been devastated.

So Ruth had quit, too. What else could she do?

Evan sighed. It was a sad, short sigh that seemed entirely appropriate to Ruth—but then he ruined it by talking unnecessarily. “Okay. I get that. But, love, I don’t think you should blame yourself. I’m not saying I don’t understand,” he added hurriedly when she sucked in a breath. Ruth felt him lay back slowly, felt the soothing stroke of his hand on her hair, and calmed. “I bet Hannah’s told you this,” he said. “I bet she’s told you a thousand times that it’s not your fault—”

“And that she’s a grown woman who makes her own decisions and blah, blah, blah,” Ruth finished. “Whatever. I made bad choices, it came back to bite me, I brought my shit to her doorstep and—she’s my sister. She’s my sister. Of course she lost it. I was sleeping at hers while she went out and destroyed Daniel’s pride and joy in front of half the town.”

“Half the town?”

“It was his engagement party.”

Evan stiffened. Then he said, “I think you should tell me about Daniel.”

So she did. She told him everything she’d told Mr. Burne.

But she told him other things, too. The little things Daniel did, the cruelties she’d barely noticed because they’d been wrapped in silk or laced with diamonds. The way he’d spike every compliment with a put-down, the way he made sure she knew that he wanted her—more than anything on earth, too much to leave her alone even when she asked—but no-one else ever would.

“He’d say, you know… Ruth, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, to me. It’s a shame other people won’t see it. Or he’d get rid of my pyjamas and buy me a wardrobe full of Gucci.”

Evan tensed at that part, which was kind of funny. Even funnier was the outrage in his voice when he said, “That fucker got rid of your pyjamas?”

“Oh, he hated my pyjamas. I was always buying new ones and he was always finding ways to throw them away. He hated my comics, too. I had to keep them at Hannah’s.”

She could practically hear Evan’s teeth grinding. “And you were together for how long?”

“Seven years.”

“Seven years,” he murmured. “Seven years, and no-one knew.”

She shrugged. “Who would suspect? Until that night two years ago, I was no-one. I was Hannah’s weird little sister. He was Daniel Burne. It wasn’t that hard to hide.”

His fingers traced gentle, soothing circles over her skin. Impressive, when she could feel him vibrating with anger.

“And he…” Evan took a breath. “He sends you flowers.”

“On a semi-regular basis. He’s been jealous, since I met you. He’s childish like that. He sends me other things, too, to apologise for… Well, for the way he behaves every time we meet.”

“Why?”

“Because he wants me back, apparently.” Ruth snorted, and was surprised to realise that she was actually amused. Not afraid, or silenced, or blaming herself for Daniel’s delusions. Just amused, and disgusted, and vaguely… pitying. “He’s unhappy, and he always will be. Some people are never satisfied. They want endlessly.”

“And what do you want?”

She shifted, turning her head to look up at Evan. His face was grave, his blue eyes gentle. “Are you asking if I still care about him?”

“Yeah.” There was no judgement in Evan’s voice. Even though she’d just told him that she’d spent most of her adult life in a secret relationship with the biggest piece of shit she’d ever met. Even though he now knew that her poor decisions had contributed to the derailing of her sister’s dreams.

“He called the police,” she said. “He called the police and wrote a statement against my sister over a fucking car he could afford five times over. He ruined her life and he did it to hurt me. And he said—he said I should be grateful that he wasn’t suing.” Her voice was hard. Her heart, in that moment, was harder. “When I found out about Laura, when I finally realised what he was, that didn’t stop me loving him. I left him, but I loved him. When he hurt Hannah, though…” She shook her head. “It was as if I’d never loved him at all.”

She didn’t think she was imagining the way Evan relaxed, but he hid it well. His fingers never faltered in their slow, soothing circle. He nodded. Then he said, as if making a sudden realisation, “That girl you were friends with; Hayley?”

“Daniel’s sister-in-law.” Ruth sighed. “That night, he gave Laura some explanation. Some twisted version of what actually happened between us. A version in which I shamelessly seduced Daniel, got jealous when he tried to leave me for Laura… whatever. She told Hayley, Hayley believed her—”

“Why?” Evan demanded.

“Because that’s what sisters do. They believe each other. And I didn’t exactly help.”

Evan sighed. “Let me guess. Someone asked you what was going on, and you very helpfully told them to fuck off.”

“Something like that.”

Ruth still remembered the raw panic of waking to find Mum pacing the room, biting her nails, looking worried for the first time in her life. Still remembered the words, “Your sister has been arrested”. Still remembered the acidic fear, the cotton-thick confusion, the regret. The guilt.

“My sisters was arrested and all anyone could ask me about was Daniel,” she growled, that memory still sour. “I didn’t give a fuck about him or about petty gossip. Then Hayley called and accused me of all this shit so I just… I just said, ‘Yeah, sure. That sounds right.’ And I put the phone down.”

Evan was quiet for a moment, and she waited, enjoying the way he held her. Casually, thoughtlessly, his fingers still tracing over her back. Like this kind of intimacy was… normal.

“So,” he said, “that’s where all these rumours come from? About you sleeping with half the town?”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I actually did that.”

“What?!” He spluttered. Then he laughed. “Are you serious?”

“I mean… I did tell you upfront.”

“I thought you were just being weird!”

She raised her brows at him. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, based on how long it took us to get here…” His smile was rueful.

“It wasn’t like this,” she admitted. “It was more like, everyone assumed I was easy because of the thing with Daniel, so guys started asking me out. And I…” She sighed. “I’d only ever been with him. And I hadn’t enjoyed it, and he made me feel… weird and fucked up and kind of gross, so I thought, I’ll sleep with someone else and that will fix it, but it didn’t, exactly—so I kept going. And by the time I realised nothing would fix it—well. This is a small town.”

Evan rose up on his elbows, bent to press a kiss against her hair. “I’m sorry, love.”

It was sounding too much like a tragedy for Ruth’s liking, so she added, “People do exaggerate, though. It was only, like, fifteen guys.”

“That’s disappointing,” Evan said dryly. “People act like you slept with a Roman legion. You act like you slept with a Roman legion.”

Ruth sighed. “Okay. You caught me. I have not slept with 5000 men. Yet.”

“Shocker.”

“Rude!”

“I’m sure you could,” he said, his voice teasing. “If you really wanted to. Live your dreams, and all that.”

“I appreciate the support.”

“You’re welcome. But, while we’re on the subject, I’d actually rather you stuck with me.”

She smiled. It was an involuntary smile, an overflowing of the steady warmth that his presence sparked inside her chest. “Oh, you would?”

“Yeah. What do you think about that?”

“I think that sounds just fine.” She pressed a kiss to his chest and was momentarily embarrassed by the hint of affection. Then she decided that revelling in mushy feelings was much more fun than being embarrassed, and kissed his chest again.

And then, because her orgasm had clearly fried her brain, she murmured, “Does that mean you’re my boyfriend, or…?”

He burst out laughing. “Yes, Ruth. Just so we’re very, very clear—” He wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her up his body until they were nose to nose. “I’m your boyfriend.” He kissed her gently, and she felt a flicker of warmth in her heart that was as soft as his lips.

“Good,” she whispered. She felt slightly conscious of the fact that all her weight was on him now, but when she tried to move, he held her tighter.

Then he said, “Does it upset you?”

He could’ve been talking about anything, considering the conversation they’d just had. But she knew, because she knew him, that all he really wanted was to make her talk. And recently, she’d been feeling the urge to do so more and more.

“Lots of things upset me,” she said slowly. “Like the fact that Hannah made a bad decision on my behalf, and she’s the one who has to deal with it. The fact that people I grew up with won’t even speak to me anymore. Mostly, what upsets me is the fact that… So many people mistreated me, still mistreat me, and I didn’t feel like it was worth fighting back.”

Ruth’s words sped up as she spoke, thoughts and feelings she’d been struggling to identify suddenly seeming obvious. It was as if the act of speech cleared the murky waters of her mind, finally allowed her to see herself.

“I felt like I should be punished,” she admitted. “For everything. So I stayed inside instead of taking up space. I let people think the worst instead of defending myself. You know, Hayley stopped talking to me so damn fast but Maria—I had to push Maria away. I suppose I pushed a few people away. It seemed easier.”

She was remembering, all of a sudden, just how many times people had reached out to her, and how many times she’d turned on them. Like the women who ran the town library Ruth used to volunteer at. She’d left because of Hannah, but she’d cut them off completely—women who used to be her friends.

“I was just… tired,” she realised. “Tired of hiding things and tired of being talked about. I didn’t want to add to the conversation, even if the conversation was about me. I didn’t want to convince people that I was worth respect, because I shouldn’t have to.”

“I understand.” He kissed her again, a quick, light touch. But she kissed him back, harder, because she wanted to pour as much affection into this man as possible, and she couldn’t do it with words.

But then, as his hands began to roam beyond the planes of her back, as his kiss heated and his cock hardened beneath her, a thought struck. She pulled back, ignoring his frustrated moan.

“I bet you don’t have a satin pillowcase, do you?” She asked.

He frowned. “A what?”

With a laugh, Ruth shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”