I worried, but I wasn’t sorry. I wasn’t ashamed. And I wasn’t guilty.
“Are you upset?”
“No, of course not,” she blew out the answer so quickly and easily, my chest caved with relief. Her lip trembled, and she looked about to cry again as she added, “If anyone has the right to be upset, it’s you.”
“What?” I sat next to her on the bed.
“Because I lied to you about him.” Her voice cracked and she blinked back tears. “Back in college, I told you a lot of horrible things, and I let you think they were about Calder, but they weren’t.”
“They were about Allen.”
Her breath tripped. “How did you know?”
My throat constricted to the point that I couldn’t swallow. “When we were at the retreat, we went through Dr. Julia’s files. It mentioned Allen, so I made Calder tell me the truth.” My voice dwindled to a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
She wouldn’t—couldn’t—look at me for several moments, and when she finally did, it was like she wanted to cry but just had nothing left.
“I’m the one who should be sorry.” She took my hand in hers, both of us squeezing until our knuckles were white. “I should’ve told you the truth, but I was ... a mess. I was searching for something ... ‘love in all the wrong places,’ isn’t that what they say? It felt like I was searching for love on the wrong planet.” She sighed and shook her head. “I wasn’t good to Calder or to you. And knowing that he helped you find me, after what I’d done, how I’d treated him—and the things I kept from you, the secrets I made you keep, the lies I let you believe ...” The weight of guilt seemed to pile up on her shoulders.
“It’s all in the past.”
Somehow that only made her grow sadder. “I was horrible back then. Confused. Careless.” Her sad laugh gutted me. “I guess I’m not much better now—”
I took her hand and pulled it into my lap. “Rach, you wanted to be better. That’s why you went to that retreat. Because you wanted better for yourself. Don’t let what they did diminish that.”
Her chin bobbed slowly like it was still floating on uncertainty. “But Calder, if he told you the truth, then you know how he felt about you back then.” She lowered her head, a tear landing on top of my hand where it held hers. “And if I hadn’t said what I did, maybe the two of you—”
“Please.” I gave her hand a shake. “Don’t do that. If you go back to maybes, then so do I. Maybe if I’d been more open with you, you wouldn’t have felt like you had to keep secrets from me. Maybe if I’d faced my own trauma from Mom, you wouldn’t have felt like I was judging you. Maybe if you hadn’t felt like you couldn’t come to me, you wouldn’t have gone to that retreat—”
“Okay!” she interrupted, frantic when she saw how it all could spiral. “I get it. I’m still sorry though.”
“I am, too.” We hugged tight. “But now, all I want is a future to look forward to. For the both of us.”
“Do you love him?”
I inhaled sharply. Old Lara would’ve ducked away at the question, but now, all those times I never let her in had only encouraged my sister to do the same.
“I . . .” I swallowed. “Yes.”
“Good.” She smiled, and though it was weak and a little tremulous, it was the first full smile I’d seen on her face since we’d rescued her. She hugged me then, holding me tight, and murmured, “I know you, Lara. Make sure you let him love you back.”
I closed the door softly behind me, turning to find Cassius sitting on the steps. Waiting.
“Is she okay?” he asked and rose, crossing his arms, not unlike his oldest son did when he was trying to conceal his worry.
“Yeah. Just getting in bed.” I stopped in front of him. “Thank you, Cassius. For everything you’ve done for her. For us.”
Something nondescript streaked through his eyes, bright but brief, before it disappeared. “Of course. Anything you need. It’s the least I could do—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “It’s the least I could do for what you’ve done for my son. I know Stones can be ... hard to crack open.”
My brows lifted, but he didn’t elaborate. Offering me a muttered good night, he strode down the hall to the room where he was staying. It used to be Calder’s room before being turned into Cassius’s map-making studio. Inside was a small couch where Cassius had been sleeping. I was shocked he fit on it, let alone comfortably, but he wouldn’t sleep downstairs—not because Calder had taken the large sofa in the living room, but because he wanted to be able to watch the door to his room and be there if my sister needed anything.
Downstairs, I found Calder in front of the fire. Pausing at the doorway, I just stared at him for a minute like I used to do all those years ago, when neither him nor my sister were looking. I’d stare and name the muscles. The bones. I’d cling to the facade of anatomy rather than admit the depth of my attraction. Now I didn’t have to do that.
“Lara.” He turned, his eyes dark.
“What is it?”
“Eden didn’t make it through surgery.”
