Delilah Green Doesn't Care(Bright Falls #1)(99)

TEN MINUTES LATER, Claire opened her door and sucked in a surprised breath. Iris was there in a green sundress, her red hair long and flowing around her bare shoulders, but she wasn’t alone.

Astrid stood next to her on Claire’s front stoop, her arms folded and her sunglasses hiding her eyes. Her mouth looked tight, but Claire didn’t even care. She was here, and Claire had never felt so relieved in her life.

She must’ve sagged against the doorframe, or maybe the dark circles she knew snuggled under her eyes gave away her current mental state, but either way, Iris stepped forward and gulped her into her arms. Claire fell into her, tears suddenly clogging her throat.

“Josh is an honorary shit boot,” Iris said, smoothing circles on Claire’s back.

Claire pulled back. “How did you know?” She hadn’t mentioned his vanishing act to either of them—it never felt like the right time to drop that bomb via text.

“You gave your daughter a phone and our phone numbers,” Astrid said, removing her sunglasses. “She’s eleven; texting is her life.”

Claire exhaled. “Oh god. I’m so sorry. I gave her your numbers for emergencies, and I—”

“Honey,” Iris said, taking Claire’s arms. “It’s okay. We’re part of Ruby’s family. Of course we want her to text us when she needs to.”

Claire flicked her eyes to Astrid, who gave her a terse nod, which was enough for Claire.

They came inside, and Claire opened up a fresh bottle of rosé. The three women settled on Claire’s couch, which, over the past two days, had become a nest of blankets, books, glasses of water, and bags of chips.

“You’re really set up for the long haul here,” Iris said as she tucked herself into a corner.

Claire laughed. “You know I burrow when I’m depressed.”

“I do know,” Iris said, winking at her over her glass.

Astrid was on the other end of the couch, Claire in the middle, and her friend had yet to smile or relax her shoulders. Claire searched for what to say, how to make this right, but she wasn’t sure anything would help.

“Astrid, I’m sorry,” she said, making sure to look her friend in the eyes, because if nothing else, Claire owed Astrid this much. Astrid met her gaze but said nothing. “I know things are complicated with you and Delilah. When things started up between us, I . . . well, it was casual. It was just . . .” She forced the words out, no matter how untrue they felt. It was how it all started, and that was at least true. “It was just sex, and I knew it was temporary. I didn’t feel like I needed to tell either of you about a hookup that would just end. And I didn’t want to stress you out or make things harder for you with the wedding coming up.”

Astrid tilted her head. “Is that really why you didn’t tell me?”

Claire frowned. Next to her, Iris cleared her throat. “I . . . well . . . What do you mean?”

Astrid sighed and looked down at her lap. Now that Claire peered closer at her friend, Astrid looked deeply exhausted. No makeup, which was unheard of for Astrid Parker, and her hair looked a bit dull, like it hadn’t been washed in a few days. What’s more, she was dressed in black yoga pants and an old gray T-shirt that said Bright Falls High School Track.

“What I mean is . . .” Astrid turned to face Claire, tucking her legs underneath her. “I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days. Soul-searching, I guess you could call it.”

“Oh, you could definitely call it soul-searching,” Iris said.

Astrid shot her a look, but a tiny smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “Okay, I’ve been doing some soul-searching, and I realize . . . I’m not always the easiest person to talk to.”

Claire frowned. “Astrid, honey—”

“No, let me finish.”

“Yes, let her finish,” Iris said.

“Would you shut up?” Astrid said, but there was no venom in her voice.

Iris presented her palms in surrender.

“I’m not always the easiest person to talk to,” Astrid went on. “I’m demanding and inflexible and I’ve never . . . I’ve never shared certain things with the two of you. A lot of certain things.”

Claire reached out and took Astrid’s hand, relieved when Astrid didn’t pull back. “Like what?”

“Like . . .” Astrid sighed. “Like how I felt about Delilah. I mean, really felt when we were growing up. How I wanted her to be my sister, but when she didn’t seem to want the same thing, I just shut her out and how . . . how hard it was. How hard it still is, because it makes me feel . . .”

She swallowed, pressed her eyes closed.

“It makes me feel unwanted and like I’m not enough, and talking about it just made me feel like that even more.”

“That’s a lot of feels,” Iris said.

“And you know how I hate those,” Astrid said, smiling without humor.

“Sweetie,” Claire said softly, but Astrid shook her head and pressed onward.

“When I found out about you and her, I just . . . I freaked out because, honestly, I thought, Why her? Why Claire and not me?”

“I think it should be clarified here that Astrid is not talking about you shagging her sister,” Iris said, tipping her wineglass at them.