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"I see," she replies. "We have a lot to talk about." The sadness in her tone is apparent. If it’s for me not having more family or if she’s disappointed in me running away, I don’t know, and I’m too scared to ask.
After an elongated pause, I peer back up. "We do."
Tristen leans forward. "Thank you for letting us know that you're safe, sweetheart. With everything that has happened in the last few weeks, it means a lot to your mother and me."
The flutter in my chest caused by his words could mean anything from relief, to utter confusion, to guilt. I'm in desperate need of my emotional purging ritual to make sense of today’s onslaught of news. Instead of the frown that wants to take over, I force a smile on my face. "Thank you for not being mad."
"Honey, let's give Rhys and Lilly some more time to talk," he addresses his wife, ignoring my statement of them not being angry with me. They probably are. Who am I kidding? They definitely are.
"Wait!" My shout makes three sets of eyes swivel to me. "Where is Natty?" Why is my little sister not there?
"She’s downstairs, watching a movie."
Oh. Does she not want to talk to me?
"She doesn’t know you’re on the phone. We wanted to speak to you alone first. We told her it’s a special day and to rent whatever she wants since your mother and I also had to discuss a lot," Tristen continues.
"Will you call again?" Heather rushes out. "We’ll make sure Natty is here next time."
They’re not keeping her from me. Relief washes over me like one of my purging showers. They just want her life to remain as unaffected as possible—less unaffected after what she went through herself this week.
"I will." This time the corners of my mouth pull up on their own. I’ll get to speak to Natty soon.
I sure hope Nate is fine with that.
"Okay. Good." She's about to stand from Tristen's lap when she turns back, "Oh, and Lilly?"
"Yes?"
"Happy Birthday."
Once Heatherand Tristen leave Rhys’s room, George exits as well.
Rhys drops down in his chair, and we stare at each other for six minutes, according to the clock on my screen. For the first time in a long time, I can’t read him.
"What are you thinking?" I bite down on my bottom lip until I taste blood. Not being able to decipher the mask that has settled over his face is freaking me out.
He doesn’t answer right away. When he finally does, he speaks so quietly that I have to strain my ears. "It’s your birthday."
Oh.
"I’ve never not been with you on your birthday." His voice remains low, subdued.
"I know." I understand what he’s really saying. Even before I became a McGuire, we would be together on this day. Heather has photographs from my first birthday to my seventeenth. Rhys is in all of them. Not being with me hurts him as much as it hurts me.
Tears representing a mixture of sadness, guilt, and love are slowly running down my face.
"Don’t cry, babe." His expression morphs into something worse than the blank mask. Sympathy and understanding.
"I’m so sorry." I blink to clear my vision.
How do I deserve this boy?
Rhys’s genuine smile calms my nerves. "We’re still together. Maybe not physically, but we get to see each other. Talk. That’s more than the last few years where I was in the same room, but we wouldn’t speak."
He’s right. This is more than we did over the last few years on either of our birthdays.
"I love you." The words are out before I can think about my response.
