I grab the broken wine glass from the table and follow Ivy into the kitchen. “You did what?”

She pops open another bottle of wine, grabs me a new wine glass, and pours us two glasses not saying a word. I start to tap my foot impatiently waiting for an explanation.

She throws her hands up in the air. “Alright, alright I think I left enough time for you to mull that thought over.” She throws back half a glass of wine and says, “My ex cheated on me. I was pissed. I was in love with him. But I was young. Nineteen. I got a little pissed and threw a lit firecracker into his house.”

I can’t even form words at this point because this is not something most people do when they find out they’ve been cheated on. “So, you just lit his house on fire?”

She clears her throat and rolls her eyes. “Don’t be silly. We were young. It was his momma’s house!”

“What?!” I shriek.

“See, now you don’t feel so bad. Not that this is a competition,” she corrects. I just stare blankly completely dumbfounded. “I was angry and he was my first love. But yeah, I started the house on fire. In my defense, it didn’t burn down. Just badly damaged.”

“And you just walked away?”

“We ain’t that daft down here. Of course not. But being as I was under emotional distress because I was pregnant, I got away with community service.”

“Pregnant?!”

A mischievous smile spreads across her face. “But they are foolish enough to believe someone is pregnant.”

My mouth falls open again at her admission. “Oh, come on,” she says. “You’ve never heard of people using other people’s urine to pass a drug test. Same idea. Used my pregnant friend’s pee. And I’ve gotten away with it ever since. I mean, it’s been ten years, I doubt they are gonna come after me now.”

I burst out laughing completely forgetting how angry and upset I was. I cannot believe this woman set someone’s house on fire, pretended she was pregnant and got away with it. I knew I liked her for a reason. “So, then you just moved away?”

“Damn right I did. I didn’t want to go to jail because of that cheatin’ dirtbag. I had half a tank of gas in my car and I ran out of gas right here in White Creek and I stayed.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I swear it on my momma’s grave,” she says, crossing her fingers and placing them over her heart. She pours more wine for us and we walk back to the couch.

“So how did you meet Trace?”

“Easton, actually. I moved into this house here. I had some money saved up for when I was gonna finally get out of that small town in Georgia. I found this place and a job and just went on like life was normal. Easton came over one day when I was doing yard work and introduced himself. He actually asked me out on a date like a nice southern gentleman!”

“If Easton asked you out, how did you end up with Trace?”

“The three of us went to a movie and Trace bet him that I would fall in love with him first. Easton didn’t believe him, but sure as shit, it happened. I liked them both, but Easton was always more distant, like he was waiting for something he lost. Luckily six months after we started dating, Ashton came back.”

I remembered that name from last night when I heard Trace and Easton’s conversation.

“I had always felt bad for Easton that I chose Trace, but when Ashton came back, it was like he was whole again.”

“Who is she?”

Ivy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her smile fading. “Who was she. Easton’s high school sweetheart. She had left for college but came back after graduation because she missed him too much. They got married six months later.”

I scrunch my forehead, confused. But Ivy must read my confusion because she continues, “She left him three years later.” She glances out the front window in the direction of his house.

“What happened?”

She turns back to me. “That’s not my story to tell, sweetheart.”

We spend the next few hours talking and sobering up enough for her to drive home. I wash the dishes from the food we made and head to the bedroom to go to sleep. I grab a tank and shorts to change into and throw my clothes in the hamper by the closet. I look at the dresses again and force myself to think about something else. I crawl into bed facing away from the closet and turn the nightstand light off. I think about Ivy and how she survived her situation. She was strong and able to overcome obstacles even if not in the most legal of ways. I knew I needed to be too. But knowing and doing were on opposite ends of the spectrum and I didn’t know if I was going to be strong enough to survive. I fell asleep with tears rolling down my face.