“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I admit, leaning forward and putting my head in my hands. “Every time she says she’s better, I give her another chance. And then she ghosts me again. Or worse, shows up and breaks all her promises.”
Alli clicks her tongue, then looks me in the eye. “Do you want it to be different this time?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, the honesty feeling like it’s ripping something open inside me. “I want to believe she’s changed. But… I’m scared. Scared of letting her back in, only to be let down again. And I’m scared of shutting her out and never knowing if she could have actually changed.”
Alli nods slowly. “You’re allowed to want the best. You’re also allowed to try without putting yourself in harm’s way.” She reaches her hand forward, rubbing it over my chest, and something in me starts to settle, her words a lifeline when I didn’t even realize I was drowning.
I glance over at her, meeting her eyes with a quiet thankfulness.
“I guess I’m scared of both. But you’re right. Whatever happens, I don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore.”
She gives me a knowing smile. “Nope. You don’t.” Then, she picks up the socks from where they landed on the couch and rolls her eyes. “Though these things might just be the most uncomfortable socks in the history of fashion. I’m starting to regret getting them.”
“Hey,” I protest with a grin. “They’re fine. Perfect for… awkward family holiday traditions.”
She lets out a low laugh. Then, after a moment, a crack in her usual playful barrier shows. “Holiday breaks with family are always complicated. You don’t know half of it.”
“Aunt problems, huh?”
Her eyes flash, but she stifles a sigh. “Yeah, Evelyn’s mom has… extra opinions this year.” She shifts uncomfortably. “Judgmental, overbearing stuff. Just a lot to deal with.”
“That sucks,” I murmur, strained.
Alli curls her fingers into the couch cushions, a frustrated edge creeping into her voice. “It’s… not even about her advice. It’s just the way she keeps pushing and questioning everything. It wears you down.”
I sigh, debating whether to ask what I want to know. Apparently, she’s become a mind-reader, since she asks, “What?”
“It’s just… Doesn’t your mom ever say anything?”
Her head shakes. “She tries, but then she gets a lecture from her sister. She doesn’t like to get involved whenTíaMary goes on one of her tangents.” She exhales in frustration. “She thinks I should just hold my head up high and brush it off, like her opinion shouldn’t even matter to me.”
“Setting boundaries sounds easy until it isn’t, huh?”
She flashes me a half-smile, but there’s a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes. “Yeah. It’s a hell of a lot harder than anyone makes it sound.”
“You’re allowed to stand up for yourself. Doesn’t matter if she’s family,” I say, my tone firm but gentle.
Alli laughs again, though it’s tight. “And if she doesn’t get the message?”
“Then you make it clear, however you need to. You don’t have to put up with anyone tearing you down.”
She glances at me, and this time, the tightness on her jaw and forehead loosens. “It’s just… hard. But you’re right, I’ll try.”
“You’ve got this,” I say, my gaze lingering on her fleetingly longer, knowing exactly what it means. Then I smile. “And if I can survive a judgmental family, you can survive one aunt.”
She snorts in amusement. “Guess we’ll both be tested.”
“I’ll be here for it, Alli.”
“I know you will.” She reassures me, but not herself. She gifts me an almost secretive smile, and it tells me everything I need to know.
Chapter 45
Alli
The smell of cinnamon and coffee stirs me awake before my alarm even has a chance. I stretch under the inviting weight of my blanket, hearing the muffled disaster downstairs: the laughter, the crinkle of wrapping paper, and my mom’s voice hollering at someone to stop running with scissors.
I throw on the oversized sweater I grabbed on the way to bed, followed by some leggings and the fuzzy reindeer socks Evelyn gifted me during our Christmas Eve cousins sleepover. She insists I need silly touches like that in my life.
