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She eyes her little sister. “Does it feel like he’s putting a fist through your vagina?”
“God, yes,” Daisy says in a heavy sigh.
“It gets worse.”
Daisy groans and then hugs onto my side, staring up at me with big doe eyes. “I may never have sex again.”
I stroke her wet hair and nod to Rose. “Shouldn’t you be encouraging her?”
“Complaining is the second best part of pregnancy,” Rose says in her take no fucking prisoners tone. “Revel in the torment and be thankful you’re not the one with back pain, headaches, and splitting pressure on your ballsac and dick.”
Daisy smiles so wide, still looking up at me. “Are you reveling in my torment?”
“No, not even a fucking little bit.” I kiss the top of her head and then push through the doors.
We all go quiet and our energy alters, the air stretching thin.
In the first row, Lily and Lo sit beside Garrison, Willow, and my dad. The judge hasn’t arrived yet, but a man—that I’ve never fucking met—stays seated in the very back of the courtroom.
Dressed in jeans and a plain T-shirt, I’d guess he’s in his late forties or early fifties. He’s fixated on his cellphone, not even raising his head towards us as we all pass him.
My blood simmers, and a fucking rock sinks to the bottom of my stomach. I glance back at him, to see his reaction, to understand him, to get a better fucking read.
There’s nothing there.
We all slip into the second row. Willow wipes the lenses of her glasses and turns around towards us. “Thanks for coming, everyone.”
“Wouldn’t fucking miss it,” I say, prepared for the fucking worst. Like tears and heartbreak. The thing about people you give a damn about—you arrive if it’s good and especially if it’s bad. I have no idea what this will turn out to be, but I’m not going anywhere.
She puts her glasses on and holds my gaze, which she does more often now. “I meant to give you this.” With a shaky, nervous hand, she passes me an envelope. “You can open it now or later. I already gave Lo and Dad his.”
She’s been calling Jonathan “dad” for the past year now, but he still lights up when she says it. Even now, sitting beside Lo, his lips lift a fraction while staring at the judge’s empty bench.
Growing up, I never saw my dad as someone who appreciated love. Maybe because he was so fucking hard to love in the first place. But as our family has come together—in ways that I think he only dreamed of—it’s not as hard anymore.
Personally, I’ll never be as close to him as Lo. I’d never leave my kid alone with him, but I don’t hate him. I’m not actively ignoring him anymore. It is what it is, and I let that rest.
“Are we doing presents already?” Lily asks.
Daisy stands. “I left Willow’s in the car.”
“No, it’s alright,” Willow tells her. “I can wait until later. The time just presented itself to give them theirs, so…”
Daisy gives her a smile. “I really want you to see it. I’ll be right back, and I’ll be really fast.” She holds out her hand to me, asking for the car keys.
I’m worried to fucking leave her alone, especially with camera crews outside, but Rose and Lily stand, obviously going too. So I pass her the keys.
She jingles them in excitement before skipping out with Rose and Lily.
Just as they leave, I tear open the envelope.
Inside is a picture from this Christmas. At the mountain lake house. The place we all go to escape the media, off in a remote area of the Rocky Mountains. We all chipped in a couple years ago and own the property together.
I stare at the candid photo for a long fucking moment, that cold winter day rushing towards me.
That morning, Lo, Willow, and I sat on the patio around a fire. Drinking homemade, non-alcoholic Butterbeer that she made with Lily.
We’re all smiling.
I flip the photo over.
She wrote on the back.
Ryke Meadows (Gryffindor), Loren Hale (Slytherin), Willow Hale (Gryffindor, like Neville Longbottom).
Thanks for caring about me, even before we were family.
My brother and sister.
I practically had no one eight years ago.
It hits me—how we’ve all come together in time. How alone we were before. And I can’t imagine a world where we don’t ever find each other.
I focus on one detail. Willow Hale. “You changed your name?” I ask, my voice actually fucking splitting.
“It’s pending, but yeah.” She fights tears. “I just hope everything goes right.” Her eyes flit anxiously to the judge’s bench. Still empty.
Willow chose to be a part of our lives, but the law is fucking complicated. Technically her father at the time of her birth still has legal claim. In order to establish paternity, he has to give consent to Jonathan. Even though Jonathan is her biological father.
It might not seem like a big fucking deal because she’s over eighteen, but our dad wants to help her out, put her on his medical insurance, in case something happens. Willow can’t afford any of that, and she’s willing to accept some financial help now.
Though she’ll be the first to tell you that’s not what this is about. You’d have to be fucking dense to think it’s coming from any other place than that girl’s heart.
“I need to talk to you.” Connor disrupts the short quiet, capturing everyone’s attention. He’s not speaking to Willow though.
“Me?” Garrison asks like Connor is nuts for choosing him to talk to.
“I am staring at you,” Connor says, completely expressionless.
I have no idea where he’s fucking going. “Let’s not drag this fucking out, Cobalt.”
To Garrison, he says, “I’ve been looking for a new investment, and I want to invest in you.”
Garrison laughs, and when Connor just waits, like he fucking predicted this reaction, Garrison’s face falls. “You’re serious? You want to invest in me?” He pauses. “You do know who I am, right?”
“Garrison Abbey, proficient in tech and coding. You like Tumblr, gifs, hacking, Final Cut, classic video games, and the girl sitting next to you.”
Garrison removes his leather jacket like he?
??s hot with frustration. “I’m unreliable. I was kicked out of two high schools. I have no fucking plans to go to college—”
“You lack confidence, so I’ll give you some right now. You’re talented, self-motivated, and driven. If you don’t see that in yourself, open your eyes and look at what you can do. All I’m asking is for you to create something, anything, and I’ll back it.”
Garrison blinks, dumbfounded and thunderstruck. “Why?”
“I value everything I just listed, and you need someone who believes in you. Create something brilliant, Garrison, or don’t create anything at all. That’s your choice.”
Lo says, “Take it, man. The god has spoken.”
Connor grins.
I groan. “Come on. He’s a fucking six-foot-four human being with good hair.”
“At least we’ve established one thing,” Connor says. “Ryke loves my hair.”
I’m ready for the girls to come back and separate him from me. “I think you want to be fucking punched in a courthouse.”
Connor’s grin fucking widens, but he plants his deep blue eyes back on Garrison. The guy is in deep contemplation, brows knotted, looking to Willow more than once.
“Take it,” she tells him. “You can do anything, Garrison.”
“I’ll have to stay in Philadelphia?” he asks Connor.
“Yes,” he says. “You’ve never done a start-up of any kind, and while you’re creative, you need me to teach you about business.”
I scratch my jaw, actually shocked. Actually hearing what this means. Connor rarely gives up that type of time to another human being unless it benefits himself. He must see a bright fucking future in Garrison. Even if Connor is a prick, he’s a genius prick, and sometimes he notices the better path before you do.
In the first row ahead of us, Garrison angles more towards Willow.
Willow isn’t just leaving Philadelphia in August; she’s leaving the country. She’s going to college in London, paying for the first semester herself. She said that moving to Philly was the best decision she’s ever made, and she wants to push herself one more time, just for college. Lo and I are happy because it’s somewhere our dad didn’t choose for her, and he’s okay with it too.
But if Garrison takes Connor’s offer, they won’t be together for the next four years.
