“What did you see on his phone?” Sierra asks, her voice soft. “A photo of Hannah. In bed.” She grabs my hand and entwines our fingers as we walk to her house. “I’m sorry, babe.” I shake my head. “It’s my own fault.” “You know what you need?” she asks. “You need to just get wasted. Let’s go out and trash-talk my dumb brother until you feel better. How about that?” I nod and tighten my grip on her hand. With the wedding approaching so rapidly, perhaps that’s exactly what I need. One night to let loose and force myself to put an end to this.
