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Ty and Indigo's apartment building.
Eve helps me out of the car. Thanks the driver. Leads me to the door. "I'll walk you up."
"I'm fine."
"I know, but I'm hoping to get a look at your dress. To make sure mine doesn't clash."
It's an excuse, so I can save face. Usually, I hate that kind of thing, but I nod okay and I lead her up to my apartment.
I make it all the way to my bedroom, to the dress proudly displayed on the hanger above the mirror—
As if it's saying this is the most important thing I will ever wear, because it's for my sister's wedding, and what could matter more than that.
I sit on my bed, watch Eve study the dress, try to take in the description of hers.
Then I pull out my cell and I see his message.
Cam: I'm sorry, Sienna. I can't.
And I fall apart.
"Sienna." Eve moves to the bed. Motions can I? When I nod an okay, she sits next to me, offers her shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it, but if you want to…" She mimes zipping her lips. "I promise. Really."
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
I start at the beginning.
And I tell her everything.
Once I finish, Eve fixes tea with honey, brings two mugs to the bedroom, hands one to me.
It's good. Soothing and familiar. Something Mom made when I was sick. When I was a kid. And even when I was older. She wasn't all that present after Dad died, but she had her moments.
I don't usually think about it. Why dwell on painful things? She's gone and she's not coming back.
My sister stepped up and did what it took. She sacrificed for me. She protected me.
Now this.
"Thanks." I take another sip. Let the warm liquid soothe my sore throat. "I… I can't do anything that would hurt her."
She nods with understanding.
"And this is the only thing that makes sense. We had time together. It's over. We're both moving on."
"Maybe."
"What do you mean maybe?"
"I can't argue with your logic. It doesn't make sense for you to be with Cam. It's complicated and messy and likely to cause trouble with the most important people in your life."
"Not very encouraging."
She smiles. "It makes sense to end it now if it's just sex. Or just a crush. Or just… a learning experience with an older man." Her voice softens. "But not if you love him."
"What?"
"Do you love him?"
"No." Maybe.
"Are you sure?"
I shake my head.
"Maybe that doesn't change anything for you. Maybe it still doesn't make sense. Love isn't always enough. And, honestly, I have no idea how he feels. I haven't seen him since Friday. But what if he loves you too?"
"I don't—"
"Hypothetically then. What if you're in love? What if he understands you in a way no one else does? Do you really want to deny yourself that chance?"
It's the opposite logic he used with me. He was teasing, sure, but it still feels familiar. "Indie will disown me."
"She won't."
"Ty will kill him. And then I'll be responsible for him going to jail. And Indie—"
"If Ty kills Cam, that blood is on Ty's hands, not yours. But he won't."
"Are you sure?"
"I am."
I'm not, but I'm not going to argue either. There are plenty of more salient points. "I'll ruin the wedding."
"I'm not saying you should stand up in the middle of the ceremony. Maybe wait until after. Or talk to him… today, so you both have time to figure it out."
"Today?"
"He's at work, isn't he?"
I have no idea.
"He's at work, at the office five blocks away."
"Ty's at work."
"And Cam is capable of walking here. Or meeting you somewhere private."
Maybe.
"It's your life, Sienna. I can't tell you what to do. I don't want to, and you wouldn't listen anyway."
"Hey."
She laughs. "If this is really what makes sense to you, do it. But don't discount your feelings for him."
"But he doesn't… It's not the same for him."
"Maybe. Maybe you're right and it won't work. Maybe he doesn't love you. But what will you regret more in five years? Not telling him how you feel? Or telling him?"
Chapter Forty-Eight
Sienna
After Eve leaves, I fix more tea, and I watch Ninety Day Fiancée, and I pick myself up enough I make it to practice.
Running clears my head.
And my team losing our scrimmage (against players technically on our team but still) sharpens my thoughts.
Eve is right.
I'm right. Or I was right, when I was teasing Cam about his kiss ruining me.
I owe it to myself to try.
I send him a text as I move into the subway station.
Sienna: Can we talk in person? Please. We can meet at a bar or restaurant if you want. It doesn't have to be private.
He doesn't reply until I'm home, showered, dressed in the orange robe he left me.
Cam: Twenty-third floor of my hotel. Nine.
Okay. It's not in his room, but it's in his hotel.
