Chapter Thirty-Four

Julia

A piercing shriek from the other side of the reception area pulls me out of my conversation with Zoe. I turn around just in time to see the back of Kit's head walking away from a champagne-drenched Piper.

The shrieker.

My first thought is that Piper is taking a shot at Kit now that she can't get to me. My second thought is that Kit might think this is too much drama, and instead of dealing with it head-on, she'll run away. But that doesn't feel right, not now, not after everything we've been through this weekend. I'm stepping away from Zoe midexplanation of the end-of-event checklist when she clamps her hand around my forearm to stop me.

"You should see this," she says, handing over her phone.

It takes me a second to figure out what I'm looking at because it doesn't make logical sense in my brain. It shouldn't exist and it damn well shouldn't be on TikTok. It's a video of Kit and me dancing, kissing, twirling, and whoever posted it has cut themselves in reacting with a heart eyes filter.

"I don't get it," I say, trying to process it and failing. "How is this here?"

"The Mystic Maven hashtag has over a million followers. That's how it's spreading so fast—whoever uploaded this used it to get the attention of her following." Zoe looks practically ill as she relays this information. "From what I can tell, this is not the original video. That one went up maybe fifteen minutes ago, while you two were still dancing."

"This is outing her." I feel sick saying it out loud.

Zoe nods, solemn, and then swipes around until she gets to the original video, which was posted from an anonymous account. The same kind of profile picture–free, nonsensical handle type of account that Piper uses to stalk and lurk and fuck around with people she hates.

Rapidly, details drop into place with clarity.

After I shut her down, promising once and for all there was no hope of reconciling, Piper had nothing to lose. She filmed us dancing. She uploaded it. She got revenge.

She wants to drive Kit away. Even if it won't get me back.

She wants to make her suffer, out Kit in this horribly public way she did not consent to, simply because Piper can't stand losing.

I cross the dance floor in a fugue state of rage.

My fingernails dig into my palms but the pain only adds urgency to my movements. It's impossible to keep a lid on my anger even though I know that I should. Blowing up at Piper—a member of the wedding party and close personal friend of the bride—will surely have consequences. But I really don't care. I'm sick of keeping my cool just so I can be some perfect version of a professional woman.

You can be a pro and feel your fucking feelings all at once.

I whirl her around by the sticky, champagne-slick shoulder. Her mascara is running, but I can't tell if it's from crying or champagne or both.

"Kit hasn't even come out to her parents, and she definitely isn't out online." My voice is high-pitched, ripping through the sound of the music. "And you just posted a video of us kissing. You outed her." I show her Zoe's phone. She doesn't even look at it, refuses to make eye contact with her shameful act. "You did this!"

"I didn't do anyth—"

"Stop lying," I plead-scream. "Stop pretending to have changed, to care about anything or anyone but yourself." She balks at my words, putting on a disgusted, defensive scowl as a mask.

"I don't have to tolerate this treatment from the staff."

"Oh, so now I'm nothing but staff?" I shove her shoulders with both hands, but she tightens her core, holding her footing firmly in place. "Half an hour ago you were trying to win me back."

"Get over yourself." She swipes her hair over her shoulder, eyes rolling.

"I can't believe I ever cared about you," I say, shoving her again. This time she loses her balance enough to stumble back a couple of steps.

"You did more than care about me, Julia. You loved me. You told me all the goddamn time," she says, sneering down her perfect ski slope nose at me. "It was so pathetic."

Love isn't an everyday thing.

"Not being able to say the word. Not being able to show it—that's what's pathetic."

"Bet it feels pretty good getting to reject me," she replies wryly. "Even if your tarot hottie is a casualty of our little war."

I ball my hand into a fist. Someone grabs my wrist, stopping me before I can swing.

"Don't," Zoe says, pulling me back. Her dark, kind eyes search my face. "You do this, she wins." Zoe's appearance drags me back to reality and puts my body back in time and space. I'm working this wedding—this important wedding.

"Why don't we take this"—it's Millie's soft but commanding voice—"out of the view of the guests." I flick my attention over to see she's standing near Piper but looking out past the string lights that form the perimeter of the reception space.

Beside her, the rest of the bachelorette party crew begin to gather.

Jenni definitely has her phone up, poised to film, and I can tell by the glint of anger in her eyes she's hoping to catch Piper doing something malicious. Natalie's grin isn't subtle. Heather looks ready to throw her own punch, and Maddie and Lisa are on their phones typing like mad.

It's no surprise to me that the rest of Millie's friends hate Piper.

Just not as much as I do.

My eyes find hers. "No, there's no need to take it anywhere else. I'm done." I straighten and Zoe releases my wrist. "I'm done with you. I'm done with everything you made me and everything I never wanted to be because of you. I hope your bitterness rots you from the inside out. It's just too bad I won't be around to watch it."

I have to find Kit. I have to tell her that I'm all in, no matter what.

I have to tell her she's not alone in figuring this mess out.

I drag my eyes away from Piper's cold stare, softening my expression when it lands on Millie. "I'm sorry to have made a scene and I hope you won't hold it against me, but I really have to go."

My hopes of a stellar performance are dashed. I wouldn't blame Millie if she bad-mouths me all over town after this.

"Take care of her," Millie says, cutting Piper a withering stare as she steps around to face her. Piper flinches beneath it. "Lisa, Maddie?"

"We're trying," Lisa says.

"They never want to take anything down anymore," Maddie adds. Millie turns her attention back to Piper.

"I can't believe you begged to be a bridesmaid. For what? Because the wedding planner was your ex and you had some scheme to get her back? And then you outed Kit because you lost—it's just so petty and small." Millie shakes her head. "I really despise both of those things, Piper, and you know that."

Coco runs up, panting. "I followed Kit to her Airstream trailer trying to talk her into taking a beat before bailing, but she's frantic. I think you're about to lose your chance to stop her." She directs this last comment specifically to me.

I don't think. I just run.

"She's already getting her car pulled around by valet!" Coco calls after me.

Thank God I'm wearing close-toed, low-heeled shoes. It makes running along the paths that wind through the courtyards and into the main building easier. I wrench the doors open, stopping only momentarily when I enter the building to look around for any sign that Kit is waiting inside for her car. When I don't see her, I make a beeline to the double doors and shove out into the night.

Light bleeds down from the overhead lamp. On either side of the doors they've set up heaters to stave off the cold. Her car idles as the valet attendant loads her bags.

"Don't go," I say. Her head whips around in my direction.

"Julia." She says only my name but it feels like a magic spell. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. She's still the most beautiful woman in the world to me.

"I saw the video." I step closer. One step, nothing more—I'm afraid to spook her. "It's all my fault."

"It's Piper's fault—" She's shaking her head, but I interrupt.

"I should've known she'd do something like this after I told her there was no hope of us ever getting back together."

"Her going full villain is not on you." She slams the passenger door closed. The Sexy Times bag is in the front seat of the car, right next to her bag of tarot decks.

"I shouldn't have asked you to dance when I knew she might be watching. I wanted to prove to myself that you weren't afraid to be with me in front of a crowd of people." I am desperate to get the words out before I lose my chance, but my throat is tight, trying to swallow them back down. "That was wrong and selfish of me—I'm so sorry, Kit."

Every bit of control I thought I had was an illusion, and that makes my body feel off-balance. My head spins. I take another step closer but she doesn't. She's not moving toward me, and even though she isn't moving away either, it feels like a chasm is opening between us.

"I wanted to dance with you," she says, eyes trailing over my face like she's trying to memorize it. Hers are shot through with red from crying. "I made my own choice. I don't regret it." She sucks her lips between her teeth, her eyes watering. "I wish you would've let me in on your reason."

"I really screwed this up—" I reach, she doesn't.

"You helped, but Piper did this ." She's got her phone in hand, and her fingers visibly tighten around it when she says " this ." "Not you. Or me."

Her assertion that this isn't my fault, or hers, makes hope flicker to life in my gut.

"We can figure this out together," I start, desperation laced through my words. "I know we can—"

"I have to get back to my parents before this news reaches them," she says, just as the attendant closes the back door of her Jeep. "Everything is such a mess—Dad is already so raw from Mom leaving for another woman. Mom follows me on Instagram, she follows the hashtags, there's a real chance she will see this if I don't get home now—I have to try." I can tell she's trying not to spiral, but her urgency and adrenaline come off in waves of anxiety.

"Let me come with you," I say, my voice quivering. "Let me help you through this."

Her eyes soften, but she shakes her head once. "They might be glad to see you—really, I'm sure they would—but they'd definitely be embarrassed to have this conversation in front of you." She moves and the curves of her features find the lamplight over my head. "This has to be a just me thing."

Tears well in her eyes.

I want to take her in my arms. I want to take this pain away.

"I don't know how to be this true version of myself yet, Julia." She chews on her bottom lip. "I don't know who that girl was in that video, looking all sure of herself, so at ease."

"That video is intrusive and wrong—"

"No—I mean, yes —" She breaks off, blinking, tears dropping down her cheeks.

"There's a but ," I break in. "There doesn't have to be."

"Yes, there does," she replies, inhaling deep to steady herself. She wipes at her cheeks. "The Kit in that video isn't scared. She's queer as hell and loving it. I want to be that Kit."

"You are." My voice is a plea.

"That Kit wouldn't let this video be the way her parents find out the truth. She wouldn't run from any of this. She'd stand on her own two feet, waving a metaphorical bi flag." Her smile is swift, real, even though her voice cracks and her cheeks shimmer with tears.

She's not backing down. She's not running away. As much as I want to hold on to her, she's asking me to let her go be brave. She's showing me she's ready for this.

This life filled to the brim with her truth; no more half a life, half a body awake.

"I have to do this part on my own." She pauses, the air heavy with the weight of her words. "Because that Kit is the closest I've felt to me ." Her eyes pin me in place. "I don't want to hide this from my parents anymore. I don't want to pretend I'm some ideal that was never even real. I don't want to lose you again."

I shoot forward, gripping her hand, tugging her closer. My nose brushes over hers as a shiver of desperation surges in my chest. I love her, and she is asking me to let her go.

"I'm not going anywhere." I brush her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting my fingertips dance down her neck. She doesn't resist the affection, but instead, she drops her forehead against mine, holding my body to hers.

"Neither am I."

She gives me a soul-deep, world-bending kiss. My heart cracks open, all the tall, tall walls tumbling down. I brush my thumbs over her cheekbones and wind my fingers in her hair. My tongue searches her mouth as a cry rips from my throat.

I already pine for her and she's still right here.

She pulls away, keeping me held in her gaze. "I didn't regret falling for you that summer. I don't regret anything we did here."

She pulls away, turning to leave me behind.

"I gave up on psychics," I say, fighting the despair in my voice, but feeling it all the same. "I gave up on magic. I didn't believe there could be a power in the universe bigger than human will. I stopped thinking there was anything worth risking my heart for."

Our eyes lock across the expanse of her car hood. Across time and space and history and hurt. Over years spent searching for something that feels as real as each other.

"I'm glad I was wrong."

I know that no matter how hard I want to hold on, I can't. I have to let her go. I have to trust her to come back.

That's what love really is.

Not possession. Not control.

Love is letting go.

I watch her climb into her car and buckle up for the ride back to LA. She leaves me under the same constellations where last night we had sex, shared secrets, and fell in love like we'd never stopped. Where, tonight, I choose to trust the universe—her, me, whatever this tether between us truly is—for the first time.

This time, she will come back to me.