“Whit had to convince me,” I admit.
“He told me.” Summer takes a long sip of her drink, and I wonder if she’s searching for the right thing to say. “We’re concerned, Sylvie. About your mother, and the relationship you two have.”
I’m silent, absorbing her words, trying to ignore the incessant throb starting at my temples.
This is stressful, being called out. Exposing the secret that I’ve held so close for so long. It’s easy to tell Spencer because he feels like a witness to most of it. Summer saw things too. More than anything, I told her so much back in high school. More than I’d ever told another soul, minus Spencer, and then I shit all over our friendship and ruined everything.
“We don’t have a relationship any longer,” I finally say.
“According to you. According to Sylvia, you two are fine. You’re just working some things out. That’s what she told Whit when he called her.”
I frown. “When did he call her?”
“Yesterday. She just returned from Ibiza. He and Spencer went to lunch a few weeks ago and were sharing their concerns about you and your mother.” Her brows drag together when I assume she sees the confusion on my face. “You knew they met up, didn’t you? That Spencer came to him and let him know he was worried about Sylvia.”
“No.” I shake my head. “He never told me.”
“Oh.” Guilt flashes in Summer’s eyes. “I’m not trying to cause any trouble between the two of you. He said something because he hoped Whit would have some advice. Considering none of us were fully aware of the extent your mother went in harming you, it was a difficult bit of information for Whit to digest.”
“And I suppose that’s my fault, not saying anything.” I press my lips together, leaning over to set the glass of lemonade on the nearby table with shaky fingers. I can’t help but get defensive when it comes to my mother.
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Summer says gently. “It’s just—we didn’t know. I mean, I assumed some things, but you never told me everything. You didn’t tell Whit anything either.”
“It’s very—difficult to say your mother is trying to kill you without worrying that people will think you’re a liar.”
“I never thought you were a liar. You would allude to things here and there. Concerning details that left me confused, but at the time, I was too young to be of much help. Plus, I didn’t know if you were possibly…lying.”
“I suppose I warranted your distrust of me. I wasn’t the most loyal, and yes, sometimes I exaggerated things. I’m not proud of my behavior back then.” I lift my chin, trying to keep it together.
“I’m not accusing you of anything, or looking for an apology. We’ve already discussed this, and everything is forgiven between the both of us. Just know that I’m definitely not proud of my behavior back then either. I’ve done some stupid things in my life. So have you. Back then, we were both young, and you were heavily influenced by your mother,” Summer says.
Everything she says is right. I know it. But it’s still hard for me to deal with how I treated her when I was her only friend—and she was mine. How I shut her out because I was jealous. I felt used that time when I brought her home for Thanksgiving break. She didn’t come for me. She went to spend time with my brother, and that hurt.
Even though she was there for me whenever I needed her. Eventually, so was Spence. I invited him over that week too, and abandoned her like she abandoned me. Kept Spencer in the dark to all of the problems, and eventually ratted Summer and Whit out to Mother.
Ultimately, I just wanted her approval and I would do anything to get it.
Including betray one of my only real friends.
Tears are suddenly leaking from my eyes and I close them for a moment, taking a deep breath. But it’s no use.
I’m crying.
“Sylvie…” Her voice is soft and she appears ready to leap out of her chair, but I hold up my hand, stopping her.
“I’m sorry for everything I did back then. I know it was a long time ago, and you’ve told me you forgive me, but it hangs over me still. Like a dark cloud I can never escape. I betrayed you in the worst way possible, and took sides. The wrong one.” I’m full-on sobbing now, and Summer propels herself out of the chair, grabbing a box of tissues from a nearby console table. She waddles toward me, holding out the box, and I take a few tissues from her.
Fuck it. I take the entire box from her.
She’s quiet, letting me cry. Letting me get it all out. She returns to her chair, settling in it heavily, and when I wipe my eyes one final time and blow my nose, she finally speaks up.
“You need to let it go.”
I dab at the corner of my eyes, confused. “Let what go?”
“The guilt. That was years ago. I’ve told you before I’ve forgiven you, and I mean it. Whit has forgiven you as well.”
“I didn’t realize he was angry at me,” I say drolly, blowing my nose yet again.