After My Fake Death, My Ex Begged Too Late

She could even sit there like nothing was wrong, laughing about her own shamelessness like it was small talk.

A flicker of discomfort crossed Oscar's face. He dropped his voice. "Meryl, that's enough."

Meryl rolled her eyes. "What's the big deal? It's not like Barbara's an outsider."

She smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I've got it all figured out. After you two get married, he's mine on weekdays, yours on weekends—how's that?"

When someone leaves you that speechless, all you can really do is laugh.

Maybe I'd already had too much exposure to her shamelessness.

In that moment, I didn't even feel the tearing pain I expected.

My head was numb. My chest was cold, hollowed out.

The car had stopped before I realized my entire body was wound so tight it was about to snap. Oscar took my ice-cold hand, and only then did I come back.

He rubbed his thumb over my fingertips, face full of tender concern. "Babs, don't listen to Meryl running her mouth. You're the one I love most—you always will be."

I pulled my hand free and laughed. A bitter, mocking laugh.

By the time we walked into the private room, Oscar's friends were already there.

Watching how easily they all greeted each other, it finally hit me.

Everyone knew Oscar and Meryl had been tangled up for a long time.

I was the only fool, strung along by every cozy little "Oscar's girl" they'd folded me into.

A few rounds of drinks in, Meryl was curled against Oscar's chest, crying about how she'd finally made something of herself.

I couldn't take any more. I stood to leave, but her eyes went red and her voice pitched up. "Barbara, why won't you congratulate me? I worked so hard to earn that direct-admission spot at Kingsley. Why do you still look down on me?"

Earned it?

Even if I gave up my direct-admission spot, Meryl's grades were nowhere near high enough for it to pass down to her.

She might as well have had "pulled strings" tattooed across her forehead, and she still had the nerve to say she earned it.

I was so furious I almost laughed out loud, but before I could say a word, Oscar's voice cut through, ice-cold.

"Barbara. It's Meryl's big day. Don't kill the mood."

I looked at the hard set of his face, then thought of the flight information my mother had just sent to my phone.

I took a deep breath and sat back down.

Meryl's lips curled in a satisfied little smirk, and she shot a look at someone nearby.

Right on cue, someone suggested truth or dare.

I was about to refuse when cards were already being drawn.

Oscar was the first one picked for truth.

Amid a chorus of hooting, everyone grinned and nudged each other. "Oscar, come on—tell us about the time that felt the best."

Oscar crossed one leg over the other and leaned back.

His fingertip was still tracing lazy circles in my palm, but his hazy gaze had drifted to Meryl.

Half-smiling. "My place. Bathroom. Water running loud."

The room erupted so hard the walls shook.

Meryl's face flushed scarlet. She balled up her fist and thumped his chest, not quite hard, not quite soft. "You're the worst."

Oscar caught her wrist and pulled her onto his lap in one smooth motion.

Their eyes locked, and Meryl wrapped her arms around his neck.

With the whole room egging them on, the two of them kissed like no one else existed.

I was sitting less than six feet away.

The room was warm. But the blood in my veins was going cold, bit by bit.

I don't know how long it lasted before Meryl came up for air, lifting her head from Oscar's chest.

The smile on her face was pure, undiluted malice.

"Barbara… I just kissed your boyfriend. You're not going to be upset with me, right?"

Oscar's voice followed, dripping with indulgence.

"Enjoy it while you can. Once I graduate and we're married, I'm all Babs's—body and soul."

That generous tone, like he was doing me a charity. A cold laugh climbed up inside me.