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“Yep.” My molars grind, recalling our conversation before the party. There must be some sick irony in him apologizing just before I found out he slept with Sydney. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“It’s not his fault.”
I raise one eyebrow. “It’sabsolutelyhis fault.”
Cassia glances over one shoulder to make sure Sydney isn’t back yet. “You really think this is what he was after? Come on, Holden, you know him.”
“Turns out, I really don’t.”
“He’s a good guy. It could be worse.”
“Yeah. Agood guywho’s spent years telling me I’m too much of a fuck-up for you, but then turns around and knocks up my sister.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
I silently pray she’s still this forgiving when I tell the rest of what happened last night.
“Sydney’s spending the night here?” I ask.
“Yeah. I bought cookie dough. The plan is to stuff our faces in our pajamas.”
I smile. “She’s lucky to have a best friend like you.”
Cassia closes the distance between us, running her hand up my arm. “I’m lucky to haveyou. You’re my best friend too. And you’re not a fuck-up.”
It’s hard to smile while what feels like a rusty blade saws my chest open, but I manage it. I want to rewind time so I can punch myself in the face last night.
I tilt my head down and kiss her. Once, tentative and soft. But as soon as I feel her respond, self-restraint dissipates.
“I’m glad you came over.”
“I wanted to see you.” I kiss her jaw. “I missed you.” My lips move down to her neck, and a breathy moan leaves hers.
“I waskidding. You guys didn’t actually need to make out.” Sydney’s voice douses the moment immediately.
I press one final kiss to Cassia’s forehead and then step away.
Walk over to my sister. Beneath the bravado, I can see the strain in her expression. No matter what she decides, this will affect her.
“I’m sorry I freaked out.”
“Actually, you reacted better than I thought you would,” she says.
Any other day, I might have. I still feel like shit and I’m carrying around a lot of guilt about last night. I showed up here dreading telling Cassia and now I have tokeepdreading telling her. Sydney’s news—while shocking and concerning—has a lot to compete with.
“If there’s anything you need, let me know, okay? If there are doctor visits or other stuff—” God, I have no clue whatequipment babies require. “Just let me know. There’s money Dad left that—”
“That money wasn’t meant for…this.”
“It was meant foryou,” I tell her. “However you need—or want—to spend it.”
Sydney’s smile wavers. “God, Dad would be so disappointed in me. I’m a cliché. History repeating itself.”
“He wouldnotbe disappointed in you,” I say.
Cassia walks down the hall and then slips into her bedroom, subtly giving us a moment of privacy.
“He loved you, Syd.Somuch. He’d love your kid the same way.”
