Marcus POV
I waited, giving her space to continue. When she didn’t, I prompted gently, “What happened between you two?”
Stacey let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You really want to know?”
I nodded, staying quiet.
She looked down at the ice in her hand, her fingers fidgeting with the edges of the bag. “We used to be best friends,” she said finally. “Like, inseparable. Sleepovers every weekend, matching necklaces, the whole cliché package.”
She paused, her gaze distant now. “But when we turned sixteen, things started to change. She wanted to hang out at my house more. Always pushed for sleepovers, even when I said I wasn’t in the mood.”
I frowned, not liking the tension in her voice. “Why?”
“Because,” she said, her voice tight, “I didn’t realize she was sneaking around with my dad. My dad, Marcus.” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “What kind of person does that?”
I stared at her, the pieces clicking together in my mind.
“It wasn’t just a fling,” she continued, her voice shaking now. “It was a full-blown affair. She got pregnant. And when my mom found out... God, it was a disaster. Monica became the town scandal, and my mom couldn’t take it. She packed us up and moved us to the city to start over.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she quickly looked away, blinking hard.
I didn’t know what to say. I’d always seen Stacey as this unshakable force—confident, composed, a little terrifying. But now... now she just looked hurt.
“That’s why I hate her,” she said, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “She ruined everything. My family, my life... And now she has the nerve to show up here like she’s some kind of saint.”
Her hands were shaking, the ice slipping from her grip. Without thinking, I reached over and caught it, pressing it back to her wrist.
She flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, the words feeling inadequate but necessary.
She laughed bitterly again, shaking her head. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything, Marcus.”
“No,” I agreed. “But it doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, something unreadable in her gaze. “Why do you even care?”
I hesitated, then said honestly, “Because everyone deserves someone in their corner.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything. The rain outside had slowed to a steady patter, and the campsite was eerily quiet.
“Thanks,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, letting the silence stretch between us.
Stacey wasn’t the type to let her guard down easily. But tonight, she’d let me see a side of her I never knew existed—a side that was vulnerable, raw, and human.
And for some reason, that made me want to be in her corner even more.