1 It was Labor Day weekend. My boyfriend Harry and I were supposed to be on a romantic road trip—but of course his whole clique tagged along. That night, around a bonfire playing Truth or Dare, the bottle pointed at me. Jessica, Harry’s “best girl friend,” grinned slyly and asked, “So Clara, how many guys have you slept with?” I looked desperately at Harry, but he just shrugged as the others hooted. “Two,” I mumbled. The second time, Jessica asked, “When was your first time with Harry? A hotel or a car?” My patience was thinning. Again, Harry did nothing. Pressured by the crowd, I forced out, “Last summer. A hotel.” The third time she asked what position we used. I snapped. I shoved the folding table, sending beer cans flying. Three times in a row—this wasn’t a game, it was an interrogation. Walking away, I deliberately slowed, waiting. But Harry didn’t follow. Instead, I heard him comforting her: “Don’t worry, Jess. She’s just being weird tonight. It’s not about you.” I sighed. Harry, we were done. … “It’s getting chilly out here. You’ll catch a cold.” I don’t know how much time had passed, but I felt a sudden weight on my shoulders. Harry was draping his jacket over me, carefully tucking the collar around my neck. He was always like this—so attentive, noticing every little detail. In the five years we’d been together, he was the one who’d spot my untied shoelace and kneel to fix it, the one who remembered my cycle and would bring me hot tea and a heating pad without being asked. He leaned against the wooden railing beside me and lit a cigarette. “Clara, that’s just Jessica. She’s always been… a lot. We grew up together. You’re my girlfriend, so she sees you as one of us. She doesn’t have a filter.” He took a drag. “You’re usually so easygoing. What’s with the temper tantrum tonight?” The anger I’d managed to quell came roaring back, his words like a stone shattering the calm surface of a lake. I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice even. “Harry, do you honestly think those questions were a joke?” I asked. “And another thing, why does she know every single detail about our lives? Do we have any privacy at all?” He sensed the shift in my mood and backed off, switching to his usual charming self. He squeezed my shoulder, a playful grin on his face. “My bad, my bad. I swear, I’ll be more careful about what I say from now on.” “Come on, babe,” he coaxed. “Don’t forget the real reason we came on this trip. Let’s go back and get some rest. No more fighting, okay?” I glared at him but, considering our plans for the next day, I relented and walked back toward the campsite with him. As we approached, I could hear his friends talking. “She’s only been with Harry for five years and she acts like she owns him.” “Seriously. She needs to get over herself. We’ve known him our whole lives. If Jessica wasn’t such a good person, content with just being his best friend, do you think this girl would even have a chance?” “Poor Jessica. Harry’s so whipped. When he gets back, he better apologize to her.” “I say we use this trip as a test. See if she’s really good enough for Harry…” I stood frozen outside their tent, a hot, unfamiliar rage building inside me. I’d never been humiliated like this in my life. I was about to charge in there and give them a piece of my mind when Harry grabbed my arm, pressing a finger to his lips. “Shh.” “Clara, I’ll handle it. You go back to our tent and get some sleep.” Inside our tent, my eyes fell on the wine-red floral dress folded neatly on my sleeping bag. A lump formed in my throat. It had been my mother’s. I’m terrible at keeping things tidy, and since my mom passed away from a sudden illness six months ago, my life had been a chaotic mess. Harry had stepped up, moving in to help, taking care of the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning—everything. He’d held me through countless nights of sobbing, promising he would always be my rock. I stroked the soft fabric of the dress. Mom, I thought, am I just overreacting? The night was dark and heavy. I fell into a restless sleep, clutching the dress. In my dreams, I told my mother that I was going to the mountain chapel in two days to light a candle for her, to fulfill her last wish. She stroked my hair, her touch as gentle and peaceful as it had been in life. I was startled awake by the sound of splashing water and male and female voices. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the pale light of dawn. Harry’s sleeping bag was still perfectly made, untouched. Confused, I walked down to the small mountain spring where everyone was washing up. Harry and his friends were already there. I noticed, oddly, that he was wearing a high-collared shirt. Before I could ask, Jessica sidled up next to me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Morning, Clara. Sleep well?” I met her defiant gaze, not wanting to start my day with a fight. I gave her a noncommittal grunt. “Guess you slept great,” she continued, leaning closer. “Didn’t even notice someone was missing from your tent all night?” A thick, cloying mint smell wafted from her. I shot her a look of pure disgust and, as I did, I saw it: a dark, angry-red hickey, nestled deep in the curve of her neck. Jessica’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk. She tossed her long, wavy hair over her shoulder. “Who do you think you are? You think a few years with Harry gives you some kind of claim on him? I’ve known him since we were kids, and I’ve never seen him let a woman boss him around like this. He actually turned down drinks with us, multiple times, for you.” “This trip was to show you something,” she hissed, her face now inches from mine. “For Harry, girlfriends can come and go. But I am the most important person in his life. Period.” Her face was so close I could see the thick foundation caked in the lines of her distorted expression. This was pathetic. I took a step back, trying to create some distance. But she lunged, grabbing my arm. She pulled down the collar of her own shirt, her eyes wild with a crazed glee. “Take a good look. Harry gave me this last night. We slept very, very soundly.” “You’re insane!” I yelled, ripping my arm away. Her long, sharp nails scraped down my skin, leaving four raw, bleeding scratches. She raised an eyebrow, then deliberately stumbled backward, falling into the shallow spring with a loud splash. The sound drew everyone’s attention, including Harry’s. He was at her side in an instant, instinctively helping her up. “What is it now?” he asked, his voice edged with annoyance as he shot a frustrated look at me. Jessica, her clothes soaked, huddled in his arms, her eyes welling with tears. “Harry, don’t be mad,” she sobbed. “I was just talking to Clara. I wanted to apologize for last night, but I guess I just made her angry again. You know me, I never think before I speak…” Harry sighed heavily. When I remained silent, his expression softened. He walked towards me, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “Clara, we’re all here to have a good time. I know you’ve been struggling since your mom… and I hoped this trip would help you relax. Can we please not fight over every little thing?” He looked at me, his eyes pleading. “These are my oldest friends, Clara. I really want the person I love to get along with the people I care about. I told you last night, Jessica has always been like this, but she has a good heart. Once you get to know her, you’ll see.” The ever-observant man who noticed a loose shoelace from across a room somehow failed to see the bright red gashes on my arm. All I could feel from him was a desperate need to smooth things over, to make the problem go away. A wave of revulsion washed over me. I pulled away from his touch, and as I did, my eyes caught a flash of pinkish-red peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. A mark that matched Jessica’s. The retort on the tip of my tongue died. All I felt was a cold, stunning sense of relief. My mother’s last wish… maybe it wasn’t just about lighting a candle. Maybe it was about this. About finally seeing Harry for who he really was. I was done fighting. “A-achoo!” Jessica sneezed twice, theatrically. Harry’s attention snapped back to her. “Are you cold?” he asked gently. “It’s nothing, Harry. As long as you and Clara make up, I’ll be fine. You know how tough I am. A little water won’t hurt me. Cough, cough.” I had to look away. Another second of her performance and I would have thrown up. Harry, meanwhile, was the picture of concern, pulling out a tissue and dabbing her face. “You’re coughing. Of course it’s not nothing.” He turned to me. “Clara, you’re the one who pushed her in. Their tents are already packed up. Let Jessica use our tent to change into some dry clothes.” Before I could even respond, he was holding the tent flap open for her. A moment later, Jessica’s voice floated out. “Wow, Harry, this dress of Clara’s looks so old-fashioned, but it’s actually kind of pretty on.” A cold dread washed over me. I burst into the tent. She was wearing my mother’s dress. She feigned surprise, then smiled. “Oh, hi, Clara. We’re about the same size, aren’t we? It fits me perfectly.” “Take it off,” I said, my voice dangerously low. Jessica just rolled her eyes and started fumbling with the zipper on the back. “Make me. What are you gonna do about it?” My head was pounding. “Jessica, I don’t care what you and Harry have going on. Take. That. Dress. Off. Now. Or I swear, you’ll regret it.” She ignored me, calling out, “Harry, sweetie, can you come help me with this zipper? I can’t reach.” I didn’t say another word. I slapped her. Twice. Hard. “Take it off! This is your last chance!” My hand was trembling from the force. Suddenly, I was shoved violently from behind. I stumbled and fell to the ground as the rest of the group crowded around the tent opening. Harry didn’t help me up. He just looked down at me, the same disgusted expression on his face as the others. “Harry, you need to control your girlfriend! We’ve been putting up with her all weekend, and now she’s physically attacking people!” “Yeah, look at Jessica’s face! It’s all red!” “Harry, we get it, you’re whipped, but there’s a limit! Jessica’s your best friend! How could you let this happen?” As if to prove a point, Harry hauled me roughly to my feet. “Clara, what the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted. “Ever since your mother died, I have bent over backwards for you. I’ve ignored my friends, I’ve let them be insulted, all to cater to your moods. I thought this trip would help, that you’d all finally connect, but I guess I was wrong.” Tears streamed down my face. “Harry, look what she’s wearing!” He sighed, exasperated. “So she’s wearing your mother’s dress! That doesn’t give you the right to hit her! She didn’t know. You could have just asked her to take it off. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of everything?” I was speechless. Before I could respond, Jessica shrieked. “What? This is a dead person’s dress? Oh my god, that’s so gross! Clara, are you a psycho? Who brings a dead person’s clothes on a camping trip?” She turned to Harry. “Harry, get this zipper undone! I thought it was something special, but who would want to wear this thing?” I lunged forward to stop her from ripping it. RRRRIP. The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the small tent. The back of the dress was shredded, exposing Jessica’s bare back. “Wow, what a piece of junk,” she sneered. “Barely touched it and it fell apart. Harry, don't look! This is so embarrassing.” A white-hot rage, purer than anything I had ever felt, consumed me. The veins in my neck stood out. “Jessica! I am going to kill you!” Harry grabbed me, pinning my arms to my sides. He shot a look at Jessica, signaling for her to leave. She pouted. “Harry, can’t you even handle your own woman?” In the struggle, a sharp slap landed across my face. Harry looked at me, his eyes full of exhaustion. “Clara, just stop. Please. It’s just a dress. I’ll have Jessica pay for it, okay? Why do you have to be so aggressive?” “Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you,” he said, his voice weary. “People’s patience has limits, Clara. I’m just… I’m tired.” “You need to cool off. By yourself.” He took off the jacket he’d put on me the night before and wrapped it around Jessica’s shoulders. He put a protective arm around her and led her away. The noisy tent fell silent. The only thing I could feel was the burning sting on my cheek, a fiery reminder that this was real. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. Harry, I was so blind. We are so over. Outside, Harry lit another cigarette. “There you go, Harry. Don’t look so down. This is a good chance to teach her a lesson. Otherwise, she’ll be completely out of control,” one of his friends said. Jessica plucked the cigarette from Harry’s lips and put it in her own. “Exactly. Look at what she’s done to our boy.” “Come on, I’ll help you find something else to wear, and then let’s go hit the sights.” Harry glanced back at my tent and sighed. Fine. Leaving me alone for a day wouldn’t kill me. We were in the middle of nowhere; it wasn’t like I could go far. Besides, we still had to go to the chapel tomorrow to fulfill my mom's wish. He’d talk to me then, smooth things over. As for the dress, a good tailor could fix it. Reassured, he agreed, his mood lifting slightly. He turned to Jessica. “You okay? That must have been scary. Clara was really close to her mom. She hasn’t been the same since she died. That’s why she reacted so badly.” Jessica blew a smoke ring, draping her arm over his shoulder. “It’s whatever. I was just worried about you. Women are so emotional. I don’t know how you put up with it.” Harry poked her nose playfully. “You’re a woman, too.” “Yeah,” she said with a grin. “But I’m also your best bro.” That evening, Harry returned to the tent carrying a takeout container. “Clara? You must be starving. I brought you some food.” Silence. He raised his voice. “Are you still mad? Jessica’s not even mad at you anymore. Don’t be so petty.” Still no answer. A knot of unease tightened in his stomach. He ripped open the tent flap. It was empty. Jessica wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Relax. It’s stuffy in there. She probably just went for a walk. She’ll be back.” Harry checked his phone. No messages from me. A jolt of real panic shot through him. I always told him where I was going. Always. Today, his phone was silent. Jessica saw his expression and teased, “See? It’s always the girlfriend. You’re the worst when it comes to choosing chicks over your friends.” “Come on, Harry,” another friend chimed in. “Since she’s gone, the four of us can play some poker.” Harry reluctantly agreed, but his mind wasn’t on the game. Where had I gone? After two hands, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his jacket and headed out. Jessica grabbed his arm, pouting. “Harry, if you leave us now, I’m never speaking to you again.” He shook her off and walked out into the moonlight. He dialed my number. A cold, automated voice answered. A wave of pure terror washed over him. He was afraid, guilty, filled with a sickening regret for leaving me alone out here. The more it went to voicemail, the more frantic he became, dialing the number he knew by heart over and over again. “Clara, where are you?”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "384664", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel