“I don’t care what you say.”
“C’mon, y’all,” Hannah says. “All else aside, you’re sisters.”
“Like she already said, we aren’t sisters,” I say, getting up from the sofa and giving Ashley a disdainful shrug. “We just happen to share the same asshole father.”
“Get the hell out of my house,” Ashley says.
“With pleasure,” I say with a smile, then calmly walk out the door.
—
“Well, that went swimmingly,” I grumble on the way back to the car.
My heart is racing, and my hands are shaking, but I also feel vindicated. I knew all along this was going to backfire, and I was right. Absolutely nothing good came from it, except for finally bringing my father to justice—and even that wasn’t worth the way I feel now.
Hannah gives me a furtive glance. “I’m so sorry, Lainey.”
I can’t tell if she’s apologizing for how shitty the whole scene was—or for her role in suggesting it in the first place. Either way, I just shake my head and say, “Whatever.”
I wait for Tyson to chime in with an apology of his own—or at least an acknowledgment that I was right; this was a terrible idea. Instead, he strides ahead of us, gets in the car, and slams his door shut. He’s clearly pissed—and I have a feeling that it’s not at Ashley, or even my father.
“What’s his problem?” I say under my breath.
“He’s just upset for you,” Hannah says.
“Well, he sure has a funny way of showing it,” I say, climbing into the sweltering backseat and slamming my door harder than he slammed his.
“I’m so sorry, Lainey,” Hannah repeats as she fastens her seatbelt. “That was awful.”
“A total fucking shitshow,” Tyson scoffs as he turns on the ignition.
“Yep. Just like I told you it would be,” I say.
“You made sure of that,” Tyson snaps at me.
I stare at the back of his head, fuming. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He looks over his shoulder, glaring at me. “It means, you couldn’t have been any less tactful.”
“I thought you were all for telling the truth,” I say in a snide voice.
“The truth is one thing,” Tyson says. “But you threw a grenade in there—”
“Are you for real right now?” I shout back at him. “What did you think was going to happen? I told you that this was a bad idea!”
“You’re right, Lainey,” Hannah says in her most placating tone. “You are a hundred percent right, and I take full responsibility for this—”
I cut her off, still shouting. “And if you think I’m going to go meet the other bitch in the family, you can forget it! Ain’t gonna happen!”
“Why didn’t you just try to talk to Ashley alone? One on one?” Tyson asks as he pulls away from the curb. “Why would you say all that stuff right in front of her mother?”
“I’m sorry I don’t have a whole lot of sympathy for that woman and her triplet grandchildren!”
“What do the grandchildren have to do with this?” Tyson asks. “You’re not even making any sense!”
“Oh, I’d say they have plenty to do with this!”
I know I’m being irrational, and that he’s right—it’s not relevant how many children Ashley has or that she birthed three of them at once. But somehow, they feel like one more slap in the face. Because of course she has a big happy family. And of course her children have doting grandparents who babysit while their mother goes to the salon.
As for my father, he is exactly who and what I’ve known him to be for years. The truth has been underscored: his so-called love story with my mother wasn’t complicated or star-crossed. It was all a lie. And my mother—not Ashley’s mother—was the true victim. The one who paid the ultimate price.
—
No one speaks for the rest of the car ride back to the hotel. When we walk into the lobby, Hannah suggests that we go put our swimsuits on and head out to the pool. Tyson nods, but as they walk toward the elevator, I veer off.
“Lainey!” Hannah calls after me.
“What?” I say, glancing back at her.
“Where are you going?” she asks with a worried look—her default expression.
“To find the bar.”
“For lunch?”
“Nope,” I say. “For a martini.”
Hannah glances in Tyson’s direction, as if torn.
