Page 1 of Rising Heat

prologue

DARCY

Bex answers on the second ring, her hair set in heatless curlers, under-eye patches and the silk robe she’s had since freshman year of college and will apparently be buried in.

“How’s wedding planning hell? Did your mom finally decide if cream and ivory are morally different shades or⁠—”

I watch the exact second her face changes, her eyes going from laughing to wide with realization, in less time than it takes me to breathe. She leans closer to the screen.

“Oh my God.”

I look at the tiny frame of myself in the corner of the screen and take stock. Mascara running half an inch beneath both eyes. A strand of wet hair stuck to my cheek. The claw clip I shoved in this morning barely hanging on for its life, fulfilling its duties with what can only be described as reluctant commitment.

I look like I could be a casting extra for Girl, Interrupted.

Instead, I’m propped against the cream tufted headboard of the bed I’ve shared with Brett for three years, my chest feeling strange and hollow, like someone cracked a window open somewhere inside me and forgot to close it.

“Darce…” Bex’s voice drops. “Those better be tears of happiness.”

I drag a crooked finger beneath one eye and let out a breath.

“Oddly?”

“That was not a full sentence…”

A laugh slips out before I can stop it—thin and cracked around the edges, like my body doesn’t know what sound to make first. I shift back against the headboard and let my eyes move around the room.

The throw pillows are stacked too neatly because Brett likes them arranged a certain way. The blue ones I bought are still in the hall closet, tags on, because they were apparently “too busy.” The framed print above the dresser is all muted beige brushstrokes because the bright abstract I loved was “a lot” for a bedroom. Even now the whole space feels staged, like if I breathe too deeply something expensive will tip over.

My fingers knot in the comforter.

“I ended it.”

Bex goes still like she’s bracing. Like some part of her has been waiting for this phone call for longer than I realized.

“What?” Her eyebrows jump.

I let out another laugh. This one turns wet halfway through.

“Yeah.”

“You ended your engagement?”

I nod once. My throat squeezes around the movement.

Bex stares at me for a moment, then squints.

“Okay. Question⁠—”

She pulls her comforter up like she’s settling in for war. “Are we in an emotional spiral? Or weirdly vibing?”

Something between a laugh and a sob punches out of me.

“We’re… weirdly vibing.”

Bex gasps so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

“Oh my God.”