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Celine sighs. “I’m done talking for one night.” She looks between the two of us. “In any case, this is not the time to be talking. Dad’s missing, Tay.”
“Maybe that’s exactly why we should be talking about this.”
I nod. “Your father would want the two of you to make peace. You’re family.”
“Family?” Celine repeats incredulously before she turns to Taylor. “Family doesn’t lie to each other.”
“That really depends on the family,” I mutter.
She glares at me. “Now is not the time to develop a sense of humor, Ilarion.” She clenches her jaw tight. “Though I’m sure the two of you must have had a good laugh at my expense.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Stop with the dramatics. Every decision made, good or bad, was for you. Just as every decision moving forward is to help you. I will make sure you have every comfort. You want houses, cars, money—have it all.”
“I don’t need you doing me any favors, Ilarion. I’m not a fucking charity case.”
“For God’s sake, woman,” I snap, “just take the fucking gift. I’m trying to help you.”
“Are you, though?” she questions. “Or is this your way of trying to buy my approval so that you’re free to be with my sister?”
Taylor flinches like Celine just struck her. “Cee, I have no intention of making your life any harder than it already is. I don’t need to stay. I’ll just…go.”
I bristle at that. Even now, even now that everything's out in the open…godfuckingdammit.
Celine’s nostrils flare with anger. “Then what the hell would be the point, Taylor?” she scoffs. “What the hell is the end game of all this drama?”
“Celine, how can I—”
“Stop it,” she snaps coldly. “I don’t need your pity. I don’t want it. Do you love him?”
I’m about to step in and shut this nonsense down when she asks the question. It makes me pause, and wait, because I really want to know the answer. More like, I need to hear her actually say it.
Taylor pales. “I…I don’t…”
Celine turns her icy gaze to me. “Do you love my sister?”
I nod. “I do.”
Celine nods and turns back to Taylor. “I’ll ask again. Do you love him?”
“I loveyou, too,” she protests softly.
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
“She never needed to choose, Celine,” I say softly. “And she chose you anyway.”
Celine closes her eyes and drops her face into her hands. A tear slips from Taylor’s cheek as both sisters retreat into their silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Celine slams her hands down on the seat. “Then she chose wrong.” She turns to Taylor. “Look at me. Stop glancing away, dammit—look at me!It’s time to stop trying to save me. Stop treating me like a porcelain doll. Live your goddamn life. Love whoever the fuck you want.”
The car stops. All three of us glance out to realize that we’re back at Zakharov House. Celine takes a deep breath, gathers up her skirts, and leaps out of the car.
Taylor finally looks at me in the thudding silence of the vehicle. I have no idea what’s lurking behind those petrified, teary eyes of hers. She shakes her head once, and then she gets out of the car. I follow close behind.
Celine has already disappeared into the house.
There’s only Taylor, framed by moonlight.
54
