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Kit stood slowly, her throat tightening, as a realization struck her. One she could no longer put off voicing out loud. “No. I wouldn’t.” She shook her head. “I won’t.” She pressed her hand to her chest, over her heart, hoping to lessen the pain and force herself to say the words. “No matter how Beau feels about me, or how I may or may not feel about him, I’d rather have a shot at rebuilding my relationship with you. Beau isn’t the only one who cares about you. Dad does, too. So does Mackey.” She swallowed hard, her hands shaking. “And so do I. I love you, Viv. Always have. And I want my sister back. You just name the terms.”
Viv bit her lip, tears spilling over her cheeks. “Do you love him, though? Do you love Beau?”
Kit nodded, her own eyes filling with tears. “But I love you more. I know it’ll take time. I know I hurt you when I left and that you’re still angry with me. But I’m hoping, in time, we can rebuild what we had. That we can be sisters again. Not just sisters—but best friends, too. Like we used to be.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible.” Viv wiped her cheeks, then shoved her hands in her pockets, her wounded eyes meeting Kit’s. “We’re strangers now. Can’t you see that? Can’t you feel it?”
“I know.” Kit pulled in a deep breath, her lungs burning. “But starting again now as strangers is better than where we left off fifteen years ago. Back then, we were both so angry . . . so hurt. We had no place to vent what we felt, except at each other. Things were only getting worse, and if we’d stayed on the same path we were traveling, we both would have been too broken to pick up the pieces when it was over. And we would never have been able to mend things between us. Or start over, even.”
“Was that why you left?” Viv asked, her gaze moving past Kit to the front door, outside of which the storm was gaining momentum, the wind shaking the shutters and rain whipping fiercely at the boarded windows. “Because you knew what she would do?”
Voice barely emerging, Kit forced herself to speak. “I was hoping she wouldn’t. That she’d prove me wrong and get well, but I think I knew deep down that she wouldn’t. You were right. I gave up on her.” Her gut sank, and her limbs grew heavy. “I lost hope. I didn’t think there was any chance left of her getting better. And I think she knew that. When I told her—”
Her voice broke, and she looked down, twisting her hands together, as she recalled the day she’d told her mother she was leaving.
“When I told her I was going away,” Kit continued, “and that I wouldn’t be back until she chose to seek treatment, I could see it in her eyes. This dull, lifeless look. Like she’d given up, too. As though it didn’t matter if I stayed or went. She just looked . . . resigned.” Wet heat streaked down her face, and she wiped her cheeks. “I told her she was hurting all of us—not just herself—and that if she was determined not to fight back for herself, then I couldn’t stay and watch her fall apart. Watch all of us fall apart, really. I told her I’d always be there for her if she wanted help. That she could call me anytime and I’d come right away.” She shrugged. “I hoped my leaving might help. That if I set boundaries and made it clear what I would and wouldn’t tolerate, maybe she’d come around. Maybe she’d at least try to get help. But she never called, and after a couple years, I started thinking that at least my leaving would give me a chance to move on.”
Viv remained silent, her gaze fixed to the front door, as the storm raged outside.
A sharp crack echoed, and the ensuing crash signified another severed oak limb.
“I thought if I could heal—if I could stay strong,” Kit continued, “then maybe I could be there for you and Dad. And Mackey. That maybe I could help all of you heal, too. That is, if things got worse . . . which they did.”
A renewed deluge of rain pounded the roof and pelted the sides of the house. The bulbs in the stained-glass light fixture above the kitchen table flickered.
Viv pushed away from the sink and crossed the room. She stood by the kitchen table for a few moments, then pulled out the chair next to Kit, sat, propped her elbows on the table, and leaned into them.
“When you left, I felt like you abandoned me,” Viv whispered. “Like you’d just packed your bags and left me behind. Forgot about m—”
“I never forgot.” Kit reached out and covered Viv’s hand with hers on the table. “I thought about you every day. I thought about all of you. Missed you. I wanted to come back so badly, but I knew it wouldn’t fix anything. I couldn’t help but wonder if things would’ve been different if I’d stayed. That maybe my leaving contributed to her getting worse.”
“Staying didn’t fix it, either.” Viv sucked in a strong breath, her hand shaking beneath Kit’s. “And in the end, I left her, too. I should’ve stuck it out. Should’ve stayed and seen it through. But every day was worse than the one before it, and after a while, I felt empty. Like there was nothing left for me, much less for her. Do you know what she said to me the day I left?”
Kit shook her head, remaining silent.
“I’d just dragged her home from Lou’s Lagoon, high as a kite, middle of the night. She was out of her mind, rambling as usual.” Her voice trembled. “She talked about you. About how different you were from her—and from me. She looked me right in the eyes and said she and I were the same. And that’s why I understood her. Why I stayed. That she and I were the same.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “And it hit me then . . . what was happening. That I’d already lost who I was. For years, I had spent every day worrying about, caring for, and cleaning up after her. Her problems were my problems. Her life was my life. I was getting sucked in further and further every day, and I remember thinking, if I didn’t get away from her . . . away from the life she led, I’d never find my way back to who I was. Or who I might’ve been without her.” Her voice hitched. “That scared me to death. I didn’t want to live her life. Not anymore. Icouldn’tlive her life for her. Would never be able to. No matter how hard I tried.”
Kit squeezed her hand. “You did what you had to do to make it through. To survive. We both did.”
Viv turned her head; her eyes, red rimmed and full of guilt, met Kit’s. “I didn’t mean it when I said I hated you.”
Kit squeezed her hand harder. “I know.”
“But sometimes I hated myself.” Her expression crumpled, and tears coursed down her cheeks. “I hated myself as much as I loved her.” She squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head. “I’d get so mad at myself for giving in to her time after time. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t find a way to tell her no, to stop bailing her out of everything, and after she . . . after she died, it was almost a relief. I’d spent years afraid that we’d lose her, and then one day it was all over.” She lifted her head, her eyes seeking Kit’s again, a look of helpless self-recrimination on her face. “There’s something wrong with me for feeling that way, isn’t there? I shouldn’t be relieved that’s she gone.”
“No,” Kit whispered. Heart breaking for her sister, Kit released Viv’s hand and slid her arms around her shoulders instead before pulling her close. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve just been afraid and worried and hurt for so long. It’s only now that all of it is gone—now that she’s gone—you have time to think and look back.” She hugged Viv tighter, thinking of the first few months she’d spent away from Teague Cottage and her mother. All the regrets and fears and uncertainties she’d had to wade through just to get up in the morning. “It’s hard not to wonder . . .”
“What might’ve been?” Viv asked, settling her cheek on Kit’s shoulder and hugging her back. “How things might have turned out differently if you’d stayed instead of leaving? Or if I hadn’t left at all? Would she still have done it?”
Outside, the wind grew fierce, the rafters shook, and the rain intensified, drenching the house in a steady rhythm. The bulbs above their heads flickered again, then went out, leaving the kitchen in darkness. Only the howl of the wind and the drum of rain against the house remained.
“Why did she do it?” Viv asked, her voice catching on a sob. “Why’d she give up? And why wasn’t our love and support enough?” She shook her head, her hair brushing Kit’s chin. “The why is the hardest part,” she continued. “I don’t understand why she wouldn’t accept our help. I don’t understand why she gave up, or why she did it.”
Kit’s throat closed, and she rocked back and forth slowly in the chair, hugging Viv close as they both cried. “I don’t think we’ll ever know why. There’s just no understanding it.”
CHAPTER12
Strangely enough, it was the silence that woke Kit. She opened her eyes, and her gaze settled on thin strips of sunlight that slipped in through small gaps around the closed front door of Teague Cottage.
