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Shit. How do I explain this one?
I don’t have to when a scowl spreads over Marty’s face.
“No. They were not together,” he says. “They broke up months before the accident, and he didn’t take it well.”
I guess that explains the personal vendetta even more. He had multiple reasons to hate me.
“Oh. Okay,” I mumble, not sure what else to say.
Nina folds her hands in her lap, centering her gaze on me. “She wasn’t dating Cooper at the time. She went to the party that night hoping you’d be there with your band. She was there foryou,Tristan.”
I wince from the blow. Fuck.
My skin feels like it’s on fire, my pulse pounding wildly, but I force myself to face the Huberts and their wrath. They deserve this. They deserve the chance to hit us with whatever they have after all this time.
“We didn’t approve, of course. We told her you were bad news. That you were—what do they say, a player?—and even if you were there you probably wouldn’t talk to her, but she didn’t care.”
“Mrs. Hubert—” Kim interjects, but Nina holds up her hand and focuses back on me.
“But you weren’t there, were you?” she asks me.
“No,” I force out.
“No, because she texted me about how disappointed she was that your sister was there but not you. It was the last thing we heard from her.”
Oh god.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, not sure what else to say. What else is there? I get their point. It’s hitting fresh and violent like it’s that terrible night all over again. I wasn’t driving, but maybe I did kill her after all. Maybe all of this is my fault. Maybe I deserve what happened to me. Maybe Iamwhat they say.
I press the heels of my palms into my eyes, trying to breathe. But I can’t. I can’t do anything except sit here and absorb more blows in this never-ending story of mistakes.
But Nina and Marty are still seated with an eerie calm when I finally manage to look at them again. They’re watching me with thoughtful expressions, like they’re evaluating but not judging.
“At the time of the accident, we were too torn up to care much about the details,” Nina continues. “You said you did it. You were going to prison. That’s all that mattered.”
They exchange another glance, and this time, it’s Marty who leans forward to speak. “But that text haunted us over the years. We could never figure out how you hit our little girl when the car was with your sister at that party. Maybe you came later and drove it home? Maybe someone was lying? What if it wasn’t just an accident like you said? What if she got her way and the two of you had some interaction that ended horribly?
“Once we could function again, we started digging. We had to know the truth. You understand, right? You need answers to questions or they consume you. Eventually, they’ll destroy you.”
“You’rethe ones who uncovered the gas station video,” I say in a hoarse voice.
They return a surprised look and nod. “So you know about that.”
“I just found out a few days ago.”
There’s that sad look again. So strange.
“A few days…” Marty mumbles to himself, shaking his head. Nina rests her hand on his leg, then focuses back on me.
“Yes. We’re the ones who found it,” she confirms. “And when we saw it wasn’t you driving, we were so relieved. That meant it probably was just an accident and not foul play. We turned it over to the police and were surprised when you weren’t released and we never heard anything more. We followed up with the DA a few months later and she said not to worry about it, that it was being handled.”
“It wasn’t handled, though, was it?” Marty says. “No one ever came to help you.”
I swallow hard and stare at my shoes. “No.”
My lungs have solidified into stone. What the hell am I supposed to say?
No one ever came to help you. No. They left you there for two more years. Two more years of terror and pain and loneliness. Two more years of wanting to die and knowing no one would give a fuck if you did.
