She has a point. It’s possible.
But people don’t run or hide only when they want to be alone.
“What if,” I say, “she needs to know she isn’t?”
Cleo takes my hand. We climb the steps to the back of the pavilion.
There are a handful of timeworn pews, a flagstone floor, and a few wooden arcades on either side. Straight ahead, a stone arch frames a slice of pure Maine blue water in the distance.
Sabrina sits cross-legged before it, staring out. The whole scene is serene, down to the faint chirp of birds overhead. Then she looks over her shoulder at the sound of our approach.
I’d braced myself for some measure of awkwardness after everything, but the second we see her drawn face, puffy and red-rimmed eyes, last night’s fight stops mattering.
Both Cleo and I run to her, kneel on the ground, sling our arms around her.
“You scared us,” Cleo says.
“I didn’t mean to,” Sabrina whispers.
We peel apart, sitting in a triangle, the same way we did so many nights in our musty freshman dorm room.
“My phone died a couple hours ago,” Sabrina says finally. “And . . . I guess I wanted to put off the inevitable.”
“The inevitable?” Cleo says.
Sabrina draws her knees into her chest, wrapping her willowy arms around them. “The end of the trip? Goodbye? Everything’s changing, and I’m not ready.”
It’s like someone has taken an ice cream scoop to my chest, hollowed me out.
“I wanted to put it off, but Cleo’s right,” she says. “We’ve been growing apart for years.”
“Sabrina,” I say. “You have no idea how sorry I am I didn’t tell you what was going on.”
“It’s not just that.” Sabrina lifts her chin. “When I found out about the breakup, I was hurt, and then after a while, I was mad, but then—I don’t know. I realized it’s been the six of us for so long. And the five of us for even longer, and the three of us before that. And it’s not only that you kept this huge thing from us. It’s that . . . it felt like if you and Wyn weren’t together, then you didn’t want us either. Like you’ve been phasing us out.”
“Sabrina, no,” I say. “I promise I wasn’t. I’m not.”
“Maybe not consciously,” she says. “But that’s why you didn’t tell us, right? Because we’re friends with Wyn. Because our whole friendship is tangled up with your relationship, and if you two grew apart . . .”
“Wyn and I didn’t grow apart.” I can’t get it out any louder than a whisper. “I pushed him away the same way I did to the rest of you. And it was always about me, not you or anyone else.”
“But it’s not just you, Harriet,” Sabrina says.
Cleo touches her hand. “Things have been . . . complicated for me, Sabrina. That’s all.”
“You know,” Sabrina says, watching a butterfly pirouette past, “I was really, really happy when I was a kid. My parents were happy. And then they weren’t. And when they separated and moved on . . . it took a while, but they both found happiness again. Or, you know, their semi-twisted versions of that.
“With new partners and new kids. Everyone got this fresh start. But I wasn’t a part of either one. I was part of their relationship. And once that was over, I bounced back and forth like—like a memento or something. The only thing that ever felt permanent to me, like it belonged to me, was this place.” Her voice pitches higher. “Until I met you two.”
She’s always been so tough, and it breaks something in me to hear the vulnerability in her voice.
“I met you,” she says, “and I finally belonged somewhere again.”
“I felt that way too, Sab.” I scoot closer.
“Me too,” Cleo says. “High school was hell for me. I mean, I chose Mattingly because I didn’t know anyone going there, and the best social situation I could dream up for myself was total anonymity. Those first few weeks of hanging out were, like, this weird out-of-body experience. I’d never had friends like that, the kind you do everything with and talk to about everything. Honestly, I kept waiting for you both to find new people and move on.
“And then one day—it was right before fall break, and we were hugging goodbye, and I realized I’d stopped waiting. Without even realizing it. I knew you were my for-lifes then. That’s what my parents call each other. Because no matter what, they’re always going to be family. And that’s you both. The relationship can change shape a thousand times, but you’re always going to be in my life. Or at least, that’s what I want.”
“Same,” I say. “No matter what happens with Wyn, I’m always going to belong with you. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Sabrina, and I’m so sorry I made you feel like you were just a part of my relationship with Wyn. You’re a part of me. You’re so deep in my heart that I couldn’t get you out if I tried, and I don’t want to. I know how lucky I am to have you. To have people who love me enough to hold on even when I’m scared to let them close.”
Cleo and Sabrina each grab one of my hands, their fingers lacing into mine.
“God, I’ve been crying a lot this week,” Sabrina manages tearily.
“Me too,” I say. “The magic of the cottage, I guess.”
“Same,” Cleo says. “Except in my case, I think it’s pregnancy hormones or—”
“WHAT!” Sabrina whirls on her, her hands jerking clear of ours to clamp onto the sides of her face in a perfect imitation of Macaulay Culkin’s big Home Alone moment.
“Shit!” Cleo says. “I was going to tell you in a speech!”
“You’re fucking serious?” Sabrina shouts.
“We’re in a chapel,” Cleo says.
“Oh, please. God’s heard it all. But me! I’ve only once ever heard one of my best friends say she’s motherfucking pregnant!”
“Well,” Cleo says, “I’m motherfucking pregnant. Surprise.”
Sabrina cackles, her feet kicking against the floor.
“And before you ask,” Cleo says, “yes, I told Harry first, but not on purpose. She ambushed me this morning, and it happened a lot like this.”
“Well, as long as Harry ambushed you,” Sabrina says through more breathless, shrieking laughter. “Honestly, anything else you both want to get off your chests, now’s the time! I’m incapable of anger right now, I think.”
“I broke your straightener in college,” I tell her.
“Once I had a girl stay over who used your toothbrush, thinking it was mine,” Cleo says.
“Okay, gross,” Sabrina says. “I could’ve gone to my grave without that second one.”
“I’m the one who lost those vintage Ray-Bans we used to share,” I admit. “God, that’s actually a huge load off.”
“Oh!” Cleo chirps. “I told that one shitty poet you dated that I was a witch, and that if he ever contacted you again, I’d hex him so his dick fell off.”
Sabrina touches her chest, evidently moved. “See, this is why you’re going to be a great mother.”
“I didn’t know you did that,” I tell Cleo. “If I had, I probably wouldn’t have told the same guy that my dad was in the mob.”
A laugh cracks out of Sabrina. “I have the best friends.”