Page 148 of Angel

Roxy tilted her head but said nothing.

‘I don’t know where they’ve taken her. I’m shot of her, for good.’

I leaned forward on my knees.

‘Whatever toxic garbage she fed you at the venue was more of her manipulative lies.’

‘Yet you still chose her. You always did. You never truly saw me; so don’t pretend to see me now,’ she muttered with a touch of bitterness.

‘You think I never saw you?’ I rasped. ‘You think I spent the last twenty years completely blind?’

Roxy crossed her arms, her jaw set, refusing to give an inch.

‘You failed to remember that you bought my monogrammed guitar thumb pick,’ I grated. ‘I never forgot you gave it to me; I cherished it, and I’ve used it on every single album we’ve ever recorded.’

She blinked, a crack appearing in her cold stance as I rasped on.

‘When you were ten, you cried for three days because your father mowed over a patch of wild clover in the yard,’ I continued. ‘I adored how you hated green olives, because the smell was revolting, yet now you eat tons of them. Also, how you always hid under the back porch with a sketchbook to draw, and how you loathed the smell of lilies because they reminded you of your grandmother Tabitha’s passing.’

‘Angel -.’

‘I know you prefer cream and yellow roses over red ones,’ I trucked on, laying it all out between us. ‘You hold your breath whenever you’re trying to paint fine lines, and you bite your bottom lip right before you’re about to say something profound. You hate mushy textured food, you love the sound of rain hitting a metal roof, and you still keep that crushed velvet ribbon from the fifteenth birthday gift I gave you tucked in the back of your art journal. Evangeline was the noise, Roxy, but I’ve cataloged every single detail about you since I met you. I’ve always seen you, albeit as a sister first, but now as the love of my life, and you have my utter and complete attention.’

She stared at my face for a long time, then let her gaze drop down to my clothes as the downpour pelted my shoulders.

‘Your jeans are getting ruined,’ she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. ‘And my front entrance is wet, Angel. Please leave.’

She stepped back and pushed the door shut with a definitive click.

I remained on my knees on the stoop, shattered to the core.

Fuck.

Her rejection sliced right through my soul, and I groaned as pain twisted through me.

For a few long minutes I remained where I was, reeling.

Then, without warning, a violent retching echoed from inside the lodge.

More sounds of Roxy in distress trailed it.

My instincts took over.

I lunged forward, trying the door.

She’d locked it.

‘Roxy? What’s wrong?’

I got no answer.

‘Open the door!’

All I heard was her frantic sobs in between gagging noises.

When I caught more whimpering, I lost it, throwing my shoulder against the top half of the door.

The hinges gave way, and I kicked the door open.