Author’s Note:
This is a rough draft. It has not been edited properly. I also tried using a dictation tool for some parts of this chapter, so that might lead to some weird formatting stuff I didn’t catch. Nothing is set in stone yet, and things may change as the draft develops. Thank you to anyone who reads and leaves feedback.
Read the rest, here:
Day Four:
“Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.”
Everyone’s reaction to Augusta’s little bomb is a bit different.
Luana freezes. Augusta is worried she stops breathing, for how still she goes. Her face is blank, apart from her eyes. There is real pain in her eyes. Augusta wonders if she knows. Does she know this could be it? That her relationship could be over?
Augusta is sorry about that. She really is. She didn’t mean to hurt Luana in all of this. She hopes Luana knows that. She hopes she gets a chance to tell her. No matter what has happened between them in the past, Augusta never meant to make her a victim of circumstance here.
Sam takes a sharp breath and catches Augusta’s eye. He looks furious. Augusta can’t blame him. He thinks she’s done the one thing she’s promised she won’t do. He thinks she’s outed him. But it’s not about Sam. It’s not about Sam’s secret.
It’s about Carey’s.
Carey looks panicked. His eyes are flitting back and forth between Augusta and Sam. He doesn’t know who to address first, clearly. He doesn’t know how to fix this, how to shove all the uncomfortable feelings under the rug. He doesn’t need to anymore. She’s setting him free. Even if he won’t see it that way.
“What are you doing?” Sam demands.
“The right thing,” Augusta says.
Sam is so focused on Augusta, so zeroed in on what she guesses must feel like a huge betrayal, that he completely misses Carey take a shuddering breath before finishing the remainder of his glass of tequila.
“Oh,” Luana exhales, looking at Carey. Sam doesn’t seem to notice this, either.
Augusta looks at Luana, though. She looks at her and she tries to say it with her eyes. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.
Luana takes a deep breath. Her eyes gloss over with tears. She nods a little. Like she’s reading Augusta’s mind. Like she knows something. In the low candlelight, she looks so beautiful and so sad that Augusta wants to cry, too. Not for herself. Not for Carey or Sam. For this breathtaking and confusing woman who Augusta doesn’t really know at all.
Then, Luana does the most surprising thing of all. She raises her glass of wine to her lips, and takes a generous sip.
Augusta’s jaw drops. She wants to ask her about that. She wants to know that story. She doesn’t dare.
“I’m so sorry.”
Carey’s raspy voice pulls Augusta’s attention away from Luana. His empty glass is in one hand. He drags the other across his face, stressed.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Augusta doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Her? Sam? Luana? All of them? But Augusta can’t be sure, so she doesn’t react.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Sam says, voice pained. “I don’t want your pity, Carey.”
“What do you mean?” Carey asks. “Pity? I-I just don’t… I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or-or lose you!”
“What?” Sam demands, face scrunched in confusion. “What are you talking about? Lose me?”
Luana groans. “Sam, sweetie, you’re hopeless.”
All three of them look at her.
“Both of you,” Luana continues. “You’re both so hopeless.”
Sam flinches. He looks genuinely hurt by this assessment.
“He took a sip of his drink, Sam,” she says.
Sam’s face goes slack. Augusta watches something change in the set of his eyes. Like someone struck a match behind them. The never he’s been living with has turned into a maybe. Hope has been tapped from him like a very stubborn tree.
Luana stands up.
“Hey, Luana, wait,” Sam says, snapping out of his realization. “Wait, please.”
She does not.
Luana keeps a steady pace, right towards the sliding glass door that leads to the back deck. Right towards the storm outside.
Augusta goes rigid.
“Luana, the storm,” Augusta says.
“It hasn’t thundered in twenty minutes,” Luana replies flatly, then opens the sliding door, and steps out into the rain.
There’s a brief pause of bewilderment after the door slides shut with a thunk. The room is completely silent. Augusta can hear her own heartbeat. She suddenly feels like more of an interloper than she’s ever felt.
“Y-you should go after her,” Carey stammers to Sam after a moment.
Is he insane? Is he still not getting it? Talk about leading a horse to water. She practically has to waterboard the fucking horse.
“No,” she says. “I’ll do it. You two need to talk.”
Augusta stands up. She walks towards the sliding door. But Carey still looks frozen – entirely unable to process.
Sam turns his whole body to face Carey. He reaches for his glass of tequila and, hands shaking, finishes what’s left of the glass.
Carey makes a strangled noise in response.
“You mean Blair,” he says. “You mean Blair. You were friends with Blair before you dated her. Never have you ever fallen-”
“Holy shit,” Augusta and Sam say in unison, cutting him off.
Carey’s lips form a tight line.
“I’m going after Luana,” Augusta says again. She doesn’t need to be here for this. “And Sam?”
Sam looks at her, eyes flaring with uncertainty and guilt.
“You can both do better than happy enough.”
▪️▪️▪️
Even when she leaves, Augusta can’t really bring herself to fully go.
Call it par for the course for her whole life; morbid curiosity. Call it hearing the explanation she is due. Call it self-flagellation. Call it whatever name it deserves. Augusta goes out onto the porch, where she’s immediately battered by the rain, walks just to the point where she’s out of sight to Sam and Carey inside, and leans against the cottage, waiting.
Over the sound of the rain, through the window, she can barely make out their muffled argument. They just happen to be very loud.
“...the hell is going on right now, Sam?” She hears Carey ask.
“...didn’t know she was going to do that.”
“I don’t understand.”
Augusta rolls her eyes. There’s rainwater running down her nose.
“...in love with you, Carey.”
“Well, I’m fucking in love with you, too, Sam! Why does my girlfriend know that?”
“Because it’s apparently fucking obvious!”
“Obvious? You have a girlfriend, too! A long-term one!”
“...thought there was no chance.”
Sam’s voice is a bit quieter, shakier.
“Well neither did I!” Carey practically explodes. “How was I supposed to?”
“How was I?” Sam snaps back.
“I offered to be single forever for you!”
Jesus. Did he really? Come on, Sam. People don’t often just offer a life of celibacy and devotion up on a platter to a friend who they have uncomplicated feelings for.
“That wouldn’t have made you happy! You want a family! A life!”
“YOU DON’T GET TO DECIDE WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY!”
“WELL, I THOUGHT IT WAS HER!”
“IT’S YOU!” Carey shouts.
That confirms all Augusta really ever needed to hear. She made the right choice. Even if the relief sort of feels like shooting herself in the foot.
“YOU’RE WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED!” Carey continues shouting. “I TRIED TO TELL YOU THAT TWO FUCKING YEARS AGO!”
“WELL, I DIDN’T THINK YOU MEANT IT THAT WAY!”
“I DID!”
“THEN LET’S STOP SCREAMING AT EACH OTHER!”
Augusta turns and keeps walking away from the house. She doesn’t need to hear anymore. She gets the picture. They’re going to figure this out.
There’s really only two directions that Luana could have chosen. Down to the dock or up the road. It seems unlikely that she’d just walk off into the woods, so Augusta checks the dock first. Surely enough, she finds Luana sitting at the bottom step of the path leading out to the water, still under the cover of the trees. She’s soaking wet, hugging her arms around her body, and looking more or less catatonic.
“Luana!” Augusta calls out over the rain.
Luana looks back over her shoulder at Augusta, just briefly, then turns her away again. She wants to be alone, Augusta can tell. But this isn’t safe. This isn’t right. They need to get the hell out of here.
Augusta picks up the pace, jogging down the rain-slick stone stairs towards Luana.
“Luana, please look at me,” she pleads.
“What do you want?” Luana demands. Her voice is wobbly with tears.
She sounds so hurt. Augusta feels like a total bitch. This is the last thing she wanted to happen.
“I’m going to leave,” Augusta says. “I’m going to get out of here. And I know you hate me right now. I deserve it. But you’ve had a lot to drink, and I think you should come with me.”
“I don’t hate you,” Luana shakes her head.
“I’m sorry,” Augusta says, wiping rainwater from her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Luana. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“This is all so stupid,” Luana huffs. “You didn’t hurt me. I already knew.”
“You knew?” Augusta asks. She had wondered. She had hoped, almost. It’s better if she knew, right? It’s less painful.
Luana shrugs. “Not officially. We never talked about it. I guessed. I… I figured.”
Augusta tries to imagine that. When did she know? Early? Recently? After the first time she saw Sam and Carey together?
“You seem hurt,” Augusta says.
“Yeah,” Luana shrugs. “But not by you. By myself, I guess.”
Augusta understands that perfectly. After all, hasn’t she done the exact same thing? Let herself become attached to someone she wasn’t meant to have? Put herself in the position to get her heart broken? They both did that. Though to what varying degrees of awareness and complicity is still unclear to her.
Augusta takes a deep breath. This all sucks so much.
“What about you?” Luana asks.
How is she doing? Or is she hurt?
“I think I was in love with him,” she admits. “I am still in love with him.”
Luana’s eyebrows scrunch empathetically. “I’m so sorry, Gus.”
Augusta laughs a little. The use of the nickname, the whole situation, it’s all funny in a horrible sort of way.
“Everyone else I’ve ever loved left because of something about me. I was too different, too morbid, my career was too weird. At least… At least this really isn’t about me at all.”
Luana shakes her head. “You’re not morbid. Maybe you’re different, but I think that’s a good thing. I think you’re incredible.”
Augusta inhales sharply. That takes her by surprise.
“Really?” Augusta asks. “Even after everything?”
Luana nods. “Yeah. I think you’re braver than all three of us combined.”
Augusta doesn’t feel brave. She just feels tired.
“Do you want to get the hell out of here with me?” She asks Luana.
Luana nods. “Yeah, fuck it. Let’s go.”
▪️▪️▪️
In an ideal world, Carey and Sam would briefly disappear, allowing Augusta and Luana to pack there things and slip out without much conversation. Any formal break ups could happen another day. If they even need to happen at all. Augusta thinks, at least on her end, the message is clear.
She has no such luck.
By the time she and Luana are walking back up to the cottage, shoulder-to-shoulder in the pouring rain, Carey is walking out onto the porch, looking for her.
“GUS!” He calls down to her. His expression is guilt-ridden.
Augusta sighs. Carey probably wants to have that breakup talk with her right now. Get it over and done with so he can assuage his own guilt before he rides off into the sunset – or storm, whatever – with Sam. Honestly, Augusta would rather just disappear. This feels like the part of a funeral where you’re made to stand still while everyone comes to tell you how sorry they are. The condolences really don’t change shit.
Luana puts a gentle hand on Augustaa’s upper arm, like she’s offering herself as a shield.
“You okay?” She asks.
Augusta nods. “Give us a minute?”
“Okay,” Luana says, letting her hand drop. “I’ll go pack.”
She walks past Augusta, up the deck stairs to the cottage, giving Carey a small pat on his shoulder as she passes him by. It’s her gentle way of telling him that they’re okay. That she doesn’t hold this against him. Carey watches her, a little stunned. Maybe they both underestimated Luana.
Carey starts talking the moment Luana is out of earshot, making his way down towards where she stopped walking.
“Gus-”
“Stop,” Augusta raises a hand, cutting him off. “You don’t have to do this. I don’t need to hear why. I know why.”
He fell in love with his best friend and he was scared. Desperately scared.
“O-okay, fair,” Carey replies, jaw tight. “But I still… I still need to tell you how sorry I am.”
Augusta supposes she does deserve to hear that. She crosses her arms and waits for him to continue.
“I was never trying to mislead you,” Carey starts. “I really care about you, Augusta. If I had known, uh, if I had known there was a chance of… Well, the point is, I thought there wasn’t. I thought there wasn’t, and I do love you, and I could genuinely see a future with you.”
Does he think that’s a truly helpful thing to hear? Augusta blinks back tears. She knows he thought there was no chance. She knows he wouldn’t have done this to her on purpose. That’s all fine. That’s all forgiven. But telling her he loves her? That’s not comforting to hear at this point. That’s not kind. If Sam didn’t exist, maybe he’d be the one for her. Or maybe he only loves her because something bad happened to him, too. Either way, she doesn’t want to hear it. She wishes she didn’t know.
“You don’t really love me,” she whispers.
Carey’s eyes widen. He shakes his head.
“I do,” he insists. “I wouldn’t lie about that!”
“I don’t think you’re lying,” she says, sniffling a little. She feels pathetic, out here in the rain, telling the guy she forced into dumping her why he shouldn’t think he loves her.
Carey looks lost.
“Look, you and I…” Augusta sighs. “You and I bonded over really tragic shit. And, uh… I’m glad we could do that for each other, you know? Be a support, but…”
“Is that all you think it was?” Carey asks. “Because it was more than that to me!”
“It was more than that to me, too!” Augusta insists. And it was. She would have planned a whole future with him. She was in it for the long haul. “You were only with me because you experienced such a horrible loss. I want you to have the love that makes you feel alive. It was never going to be me.”
She shudders a little, admitting it out loud. This is how it always is, isn’t it? He was never for her. He was only ever a tourist down here in the mausoleum. She was an island stop on his odyssey, on his journey home.
Carey’s face crumples. “I want that for you, too.”
Augusta hopes the rainwater on her face obscures her tears.
Doesn’t he know? That’s never how her story plays out. She’s just a stopping point for people in transit.
“I’m going to go home now, okay?” She tells him. She’s done with this conversation. “I’ll take Luana, too. You don’t have to worry about us.”
Carey looks downwards. “Yeah, okay. I really am sorry, Gus.”
Augusta nods. She wonders if that’s the last time he’ll call her that.
“Me, too.”
▪️▪️▪️
Augusta operates on auto-pilot for the next ten to fifteen minutes. She dries herself off and changes out of her wet clothes, into the biggest, coziest sweater she brought. Something to provide a semblance of comfort. She throws all of her wet things into a plastic bag, and packs the rest as quickly as possible. She doesn’t take time to fold her clothes, but for some reason, she takes the time to make the bed she’d been laying in earlier. She wonders if they’ll change the sheets before they sleep in it tonight.
Once all her shit is packed, Augusta has no reason to stick around for even a minute. She might as well get on the road.
When she exits the bedroom, bags in hand, and walks downstairs, she finds Sam sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Carey is standing a few feet away, still soaked from being outside. He’s leaning against a wall like he couldn’t possibly stand on his own two feet.
Luana is gathering her things from the kitchen. On top of her own personal belongings, she also has the dog’s stuff. Augusta didn’t even consider that. She hopes Sailor’s crate fits in her little car.
“Do you need any help?” Augusta asks.
Carey’s eyes flicker over to her, sad and resigned. She ignores them.
“No, I’m good,” Luana says. “I’m done here.”
Augusta feels relieved. She’s itching to leave.
“Sam, I need your keys,” Luana says. “I need to move Sailor’s crate to Augusta’s car.”
“If it fits,” Augusta mumbles.
“Oh, uh,” Sam looks up at her, spacy. “They’re on the table by the front door.”
He doesn’t sound good. For someone who just got the thing he had fucking wanted all along, he doesn’t sound good. He sounds like there’s an anvil sitting on his chest. In his voice, Augusta thinks she can hear years of guilt and confusion and a sudden, jolting unraveling of all his tightly wound strings.
“Thanks,” Luana says tightly, then walks over to the door to retrieve the keys.
“Lu,” Sam calls after him.
She pauses, and looks back at him. Her face is completely stoney.
“Yes?”
“You should hate me,” Sam says.
Augusta’s not sure for which of the many possible reasons. For loving Carey? For embarrassing her? For leaving her behind? Or is there something else?
“I don’t, though,” she says. “I understand you too much for that.”
Read the next chapter here.
Oh my! That was so heartbreaking to read. Damn, I hope Luana and Gus get a happy ending. Still curious about what Luana is hiding.