In My Dreams I Hold a Knife(39)

It was a scene lifted straight from my Homecoming fantasies, so close to what I’d dreamed that it felt surreal to actually live it.

To my surprise, Mint broke back through the crowd, and everyone stepped aside, responding unconsciously to the power of his presence. He put a hand on my waist, drawing me close, his mouth brushing my ear as he leaned in and whispered. I closed my eyes. This was a dream.

“I’m sorry about that. Courtney needs to be alone.” He lifted his head, catching my eyes, and my body burst into a thousand sparks, leaking into the night like fireflies. This was the old magic. The pull and draw of him, the gravitational force. “Come talk to me?”

Motion over Mint’s shoulder caught my eye. It was Coop, stalking alone out of the tent, Caro nowhere in sight. Where was he going? Foreboding snuffed the fireflies.

I looked back at Mint. His face so close—achingly beautiful, like a prince I would have conjured when I was fourteen. The golden boy, the first boy I’d ever loved. I’d wanted this moment so badly, played it in my mind so many times. It felt like redemption, like a litany whispered in my ear: You were right. You were right. You were right.

Then I looked at Coop, disappearing into the line of trees, his shoulders hunched high with tension. Promising nothing good.

Mint, or Coop?





Chapter 16


One year after college

Mint was going to propose. I could feel it in my bones. This whole year after graduation I’d struggled to reinvent myself, to move on from the paths I thought I’d get to take, the ones that had closed so abruptly senior year. I’d had to find a new career—right when job opportunities shriveled for everyone in the whole country—adjust to the hollow new shape of my family, grapple with the ruins of the East House Seven. For a year, Mint had been the only good thing.

Starting with the day he’d shown up on my doorstep, a week after Heather died. He’d fallen on his knees, raw and grieving and so grateful I was alive when Heather wasn’t—and so awash in guilt for the thought. My own guilty heart had melted. I’d buried my betrayals, and our relationship grew stronger than ever. While the rest of our friends drifted apart, we clung to each other, inseparable.

Heather’s death had been a dark chasm ripped through our lives, breeding misery. I wanted things to be normal again, good and upright. I wanted to live in the sunlight.

Mint was the sun itself. We’d moved to New York City, Mint to start law school, me to take an entry-level job at Coldwell, the most prestigious option available to me, now that my other choices were gone. It had been a hard year, but we’d just survived our first Homecoming back at Duquette, proving the good memories outweighed the bad, reforging friendships. Life seemed hopeful again, and now here we were, out for dinner at my favorite restaurant, the one so expensive I felt grateful when Mint picked up the tab. There was nothing to celebrate, no real reason we were here. Which meant…

Mint sat across from me in his high-backed chair. The restaurant’s dim lighting turned his face into an oil painting, all warm skin, luxurious lines, and soft shadows. He held my hand.

“I want to tell you something. It’s important.”

My heart swelled, and I squeezed his fingers. I’d been eyeing his jacket all night, wondering where he’d hidden the ring.

“Jess, you know I love you. I have since freshman year.”

“I love you, too,” I said, not even caring how breathy my voice sounded.

“And this year in the city has been good. Better than I expected.”

I nodded.

He took a deep breath. “But the thing is, I don’t think this is working.”

I stared at him, confused.

“I’ll always be grateful for what we had, but…I think I’ve been trying to keep something alive that should’ve died a long time ago.”

It was finally sinking in. “What?” I whispered.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I have to confess something.” He swallowed hard. “I cheated on you, Jess. At Homecoming. You know Saturday night, when I didn’t come back and told you I slept in Frankie’s hotel?”

I didn’t move a muscle. As if refusing to participate could stop the whole thing from barreling forward.

“The truth is, I got wasted. I went to Wendy’s with a bunch of people after the bars, and—I’m not proud of this, obviously—but I hooked up with Courtney. In the bathroom. And then we went back to her hotel.”

Not Courtney. Anyone but Courtney.

“I think I’ve liked her for a while,” Mint continued, twisting the knife deeper. “In college, I think I had a crush on her but just never acted on it, obviously, because we were together. But I want to act on it now.”

My fingers let go of my fork, and it clattered against the plate. “What are you saying?”

His eyes actually filled with tears. I’d only seen him teary a few times, so rarely I could count them on one hand. The sight broke through the fog of my shock, made the moment real. “I’m so sorry, Jess. I won’t ever be able to apologize enough to you, not for this, or anything. I’m so full of guilt, I can’t…” He took a shaky breath. “But I need to break up. It’s for the best.”

Panic—cold, gripping, tearing my heart. “No,” I said, my own eyes filling with tears. “Don’t do this. Don’t break up with me.”