“Before you tell me that picture means nothing, I need you to answer one question.”
Zachary’s voice came through my phone so evenly that the noise of the beach seemed to disappear around me.
Austin had already taken his arm off my shoulders.
Tiffany stood a few feet away, watching my face.
I swallowed.
“What?”
There was a pause.
“Were you trying to hurt me?”
Of all the questions I’d expected, that wasn’t one of them.
I had prepared myself for accusations.
For Zachary demanding to know why Austin was touching me.
For another speech about boundaries.
I was ready to tell him I was an adult and he didn’t own me.
But I wasn’t ready for that question.
“No,” I said too quickly.
Zachary exhaled.
“Then why that picture?”
“Because it’s just a picture.”
“Paisley.”
The way he said my name stripped away every argument I’d rehearsed.
“I told you the thing that bothered me was the way Austin talks to you and the way you two act around each other.
You left anyway.
Fine.
You’re an adult.
But then you posted yourself in that swimsuit with his arm around you where you knew I’d see it.”
I stared at the ocean.
He continued.
“I’m asking one time.
Were you trying to hurt me?”
I could have lied again.
Instead, I said nothing.
That silence lasted maybe three seconds.
It felt much longer.
“Okay,” Zachary said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I have my answer.”
My anger came rushing back because anger was easier than whatever else I was feeling.
“You went through my phone, Zachary.
You gave me an ultimatum.
You don’t get to turn this around like you’re the victim.”
“I shouldn’t have gone through your phone.”
His answer stopped me.
I had expected him to defend it.
“And I shouldn’t have tried to tell you where you could go,” he continued.
“But being wrong about those things doesn’t make me wrong about everything else.”
I looked at Austin.
He looked away.
Then Zachary asked, “Is there anything about you and Austin you’ve never told me?”
My stomach dropped.
For the first time all weekend, the heat felt cold against my skin.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m asking you.”
Tiffany was still watching me.
That was when I understood.
Not exactly what Zachary knew.
But enough to realize that the part of my history I’d dismissed as irrelevant had somehow entered the room.
