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“Open the damn door, Willow, or I will kick it in. You might be able to hide from everyone else, but you can’t hide from me.”

In an instant, I’m grabbing the door handle, my heart lunging in my chest, thumping so hard it almost hurts. He came for me. I don’t know why, but that brings me a tiny bit of joy. I shouldn’t be happy about seeing him. He doesn’t deserve me, but more so, I don’t deserve him, or anyone else. But I can’t help but hold on to that tiny bit of glee, the happiness it brings me, that he is here.

Unlocking the deadbolt, I pull the door open to find Parker standing on the other side of it. One arm propped up on the door frame as if he’s been waiting for me to open up for hours instead of seconds. Drinking in his perfect face, I don’t know if I want to slap or hug him. The scowl he gives me is one I’ve seen many times before.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Looking me up and down, his blatant anger melts into concern. The struggle in his eyes tells me he wants to take me into his arms, but something is stopping him. Probably the way I look right now. “You look terrible,” he mumbles as if he could read my mind.

“I feel like shit too.”

“I’m sorry about your sister,” he winces, genuine empathy in his tone. “Do you mind if we come in?”

We?

Without waiting for my answer, he drops his arm and walks into the room. I’m flabbergasted by his presence, and even more by the intense tone of his voice. I mentally prepare myself to respond to him when a shadow appears in the doorway. Something tightens in my chest when my eyes land on Brett’s dark ones.

“Hello, Willow,” he greets, and steps over the threshold.

“Hi,” I whisper, my lips trembling.

“I’m sorry about Ashton.” He frowns, and I nod. I’m not ready to have this conversation, where everyone apologizes and says sorry for your loss. I’d rather they never have to say anything. I’d rather my sister be alive. Too bad, we don’t always get what we want.

Closing the door, I walk back inside and sit on the bed. Parker comes to sit beside me while Brett remains standing, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. I stare down at my joined hands that rest in my lap. I need to apologize, at least try and make things right.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, looking up at Brett.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know any better. You were trying to help your sister. I don’t blame you at all.” The sincerity in his voice hits me hard. Like a bus running me over.

“Truthfully, Brett, I’m sorry. I didn’t… If I had known, I wouldn’t…” Tears fill my eyes, and the guilt is overwhelming, suffocating me. I did this to him. I took two years of his life away.

Parker’s hand comes to rest against mine, the warmth of his touch pulls me from my thoughts, and I direct my attention to him. He’s never been so kind and tender before. For a moment, I allow myself to think about what’s going to happen in the future. Is there room for Parker and me in this crazy world?

“The funeral is tomorrow. Are you not going to go?” Brett asks.

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to stand in a room with a bunch of people weeping over her. People who didn’t know or care about her.”

He nods and looks down at the floor, his face expressionless. Before everything happened, I thought he and Ashton might get married. Our father was all about that relationship, of course. He was ready to marry his daughter into the Rothschild empire after the first date. Despite my father being pushy, I thought they had something real going on. I don’t know, and I guess I never will now, but I really did think that they loved each other.

“How did you find me?”

“I asked your dad. He checked where you used your credit card last, and it was this hotel,” his words make me happy and sad at the same time. Parker cared enough to find me here, cared enough to go to my father. But the fact that my dad knows where I am and can’t bring himself to come by or even call me… a shudder ripples down my spine.

“I know this must be hard for you, but you need to come back to Blackthorn, you already missed a bunch of classes.” Parker’s voice holds authority, his face morphing into a little bit of the old Parker, and I can’t help but wonder if he would be this way if we were alone right now. What he is not understanding is that he doesn’t have that kind of hold on me anymore.

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