I stood before I realized I was moving, my feet carrying me toward the door.
I needed to see him. The Eugene out there. And the girl with the chestnut hair.
I gripped the door handle. They were still arguing on the other side.
I yanked it open.
The door swung wide.
The girl with the chestnut hair was curled into Eugene's chest, crying. His hand stroked her hair over and over, his eyes full of nothing but ache for her.
Watching his fingers rest in that chestnut hair—
in a flash, the strands under the pillow, the strands in the bathroom, all of them seemed to stretch out and wind tight around me.
They saw me.
Eugene dropped his arms from around her so fast it looked violent.
The girl wiped her eyes and took a step forward.
"I'm so sorry, Lottie. Please—this was all my fault…"
I couldn't hold back. My arm swung up and the slap cracked full across her face.
When my hand kept going toward Eugene, he charged in from behind, shoved me hard, and pinned the girl behind him—shielding her like a startled rabbit he refused to let anyone touch.
"Lottie, what are you doing?!"
Resentment and raw anger surged behind his eyes.
But mine had already dropped to her left hand.