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Nerves stop me at her door. Maybe the universe is sending me a sign that I shouldn’t be doing this. Or maybe it’s saying to take it seriously because I only have one shot at getting this right, at getting Isla’s smile back in my life.
That smile that lights up a room, it makes her freckles more pronounced as if her happiness alone makes the sun shine on her. Fuck, I miss it more than I realized.
I knock because I no longer have the choice. I need to see her. Now.
Willa answers the door. She takes after Marney, their mother. Where Isla has darker attributes like Coach, Willa is more on the fair side. They both have their mother’s amber eyes, though. Another way they differ is that Isla was always a little powder keg ready to explode, Willa takes more time to ignite. Typically, anyway.
Right now… not so much. I see her fingers clench tightly into a fist, but not before I can dodge it. What can I say? I expected discourse, not violence at first sight. Willa lands her shot right to my left eye.
“Fuck, Willa. Damnit, that hurt,” I tell her, holding my eye that wells with water.
“What did I fucking tell you, Cillian? I keep my promises, unlike you.”
“Yeah, I get it, but when the fuck did you learn how to hit?”
“When it became evident I needed to protect my sister from assholes,” she snipes back.
“Truce?” I ask, holding my hands up in surrender. “I come in peace.”
“Fuck you. Go away.”
“Is she here?”
“No.”
“I can hear her talking to someone.”
“No, you can’t,” she rebuts, hands going to her waist as if daring me to call her bluff.
“Listen, Willa, I’m trying to make some amends here. If she really doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll walk away. But can you at least ask her? Please?”
Her eyes narrow as she contemplates her next move, and I’m sure she’s going to tell me to go away, when she surprises me yet again.
“Wait,” she says, closing the door hard in my face.
I pace the hallway in front of their door for the several minutes I wait. I sense her before she opens it, some intuition telling me she’s just on the other side. She’s probably composing herself, trying for some calming breaths before she invites the enemy in. I bet her heart races as fast as mine right now, with the anticipation of the unknown. Maybe she hopes for the same things I do.
More likely, she hopes I’ll disappear. That’s not happening, though.
In my dreams, she opens the door with a welcoming smile. One that says she’s glad to see me after so long and that the stupid mistakes of our past are long forgotten. They don’t call them dreams for nothing.
In reality, she opens the door, wearing a turned down mouth and troubled eyes. Isla isn’t excited that I’m here; she looks more terrified than anything else.
“Hey.”
“You can’t just show up here,” she says with trembling lips as she wedges herself in the doorway, only opening it far enough to stand in.
“What choice did you give me? We should talk. You know we should.”
“I… I know. But this isn’t the place.” She pauses to wipe a tear. Her body rattles as she fidgets from foot to foot. I’ve never seen her even slightly anxious like this. Never.
“Hey,” I say, taking a step closer but holding my hands out to my side. “I’m only here to talk. I promise, I don’t want to fight but I’ll let you lay into me all you want, if that’s what you want. Just tell me what you need, Isla.”
“We do need to. Talk, I mean. We do need to talk. But…”
“Sadie, no,” Willa says from behind Isla. A set of tiny little fingers creeps around the side of the door and starts to pull.
“I want Mommy to do it.”
