Page 169 of My Unfinished Heart

“Are you sure it had something to do with me?” he asks.

“I’m pretty sure.”

“What did he say exactly? Exact words.”

“I’m so tired. I want to sleep.”

“Fine. Go back to sleep. After you tell me what he said.”

“Give me my pills back first.” I hold out the hand that isn’t attached to the arm covering my eyes.

“Was it that bad? Do you want my shoelaces too?”

I wiggle my fingers until I feel the bottle hit my palm. I hold it against my chest.

“All right—out with it,” he says.

“He said he moved here because he can’t even look at you anymore.”

“At me? Are you sure he meant me?”

“I’m sure.”

“Huh.”

That’s it? That’s his entire assessment? Huh? I’m not sure what kind of response I’m expecting, but it isn’t “huh”.

I take my arm off my face and turn to him. He has a small frown, but it’s more irritated than concerned—like he can’t believe he just drove three hours in the middle of the night for this.

“It’s good to know I’m not the only devastated one in this room,” I say.

He shrugs. “I mean—what did you think he was gonna say?”

Now, I’m irritated. I sit up to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Well—it’s Tristan,” he says, like that’s supposed to mean something obvious and significant.

“What are you getting at? My mind’s not as alert as yours right now so maybe you should talk to me like I’m a small child.”

“He’s just pissed.”

“I think he’s a little more than pissed.”

“Okay fine. He’s pissed, and his feelings are hurt. How’s that? Better?”

“I’m on the verge of strangling you. You should know that. Just—as a warning.”

Connor sighs. “Archer. Big brother. A minute ago, I was annoyed that I came all this way for that, but I can see you need some help here, so I’m glad I made the drive. Listen. I know Tristan’s like the love of your life or whatever, but your experience with him is pretty limited. Let’s talk about Tristan Elliot Chase for a minute. Can I be honest?”

Do I have a choice?

Connor puts his hand on my shoulder in what could be the most patronizing gesture ever. His tone isn’t much better. “I know I’m the one who wears make-up, but Tristan’s the one with all the drama. He was in theater in high school, you know? Every role he auditioned for, he got. Even in Houston where nobody knew him. Give him a few days. Whatever you said will sink in, and he’ll call you, and then you’ll get married and live happily ever after.”

“Are you not listening? He’s pissed at me, yeah, but he moved here to get away from you.”

“Whatever. No, he didn’t. I’ll go over there tomorrow. I’ll talk to him.”

I don’t think it matters. “Don’t go for me. You obviously need to work through some things.”