Portia’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. “Okay, fair point.”
“Why are you so bothered by this?” Dizzie shifted on her seat and turned to face her.
“I don’t know!” It was as frustrating as it was maddening. “We’ve been friends forever. He was atmywedding. I always thought I’d be at his.”
Dizzie grabbed Portia’s hand. She flinched at the unexpected contact and Dizzie pulled back immediately.
“Sorry. It’s not you. I’m just... not used to being touched.” No one ever dared get that close to her. Except Aleks.
“What about Tommy?” Horror colored Dizzie’s voice.
Portia laughed. “Well, obviously. But I wasn’t raised in a touchy-feely family.”
Dizzie didn’t reply right away. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she admitted. “I wasn’t raised in a family at all. At least not an official one, but in the orphanage, we rough-housed just like normal siblings.”
“You met my father. Our father. Can you picture him roughhousing?” The look on Dizzie’s face was worth Portia’s earlier awkward admission.
“Ohmygod.”
“I know. I had Killian and Tommy. But it wasn’t the same. There were rules for the daughter of a corporate CEO. Etiquette lessons. Meetings and extra classes.”
“Sounds fun.” Dizzie’s tone implied the opposite.
“You’re not wrong, but it was the only life I knew.” She’d never complained in public—no one would have any sympathy for the poor little rich girl. Portia smiled. “Tommy tried, though. He made sure our home was always filled with love and laughter.”
His name hung in the space between them.
“I’m sorry about Tommy,” Dizzie said after a long pause.
Portia’s heart clenched and her breath caught. She didn’t want to have this conversation, but she’d been avoiding it for months.
“Thank you,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say.
Dizzie started to say something but Portia held up her hand to stop her.
“Thank you,” she repeated. “I’m getting better at separating you from the whole plot, but I’m not there yet. I’m glad you’re willing to work with me on the Solveig visit and I’m glad we’re able to talk civilly, mostly at least. I want to forgive you, but I’m not there yet. I know that his death wasn’t intentional on your part.” She paused. “That’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”
Tears rolled down Dizzie’s cheeks and Portia felt a tiny pang of guilt. She thought she’d let her down easy. “Shit.” The word slipped out.
Dizzie’s eyes got wider, if that was even possible, then she burst out laughing.
Portia blinked. She’d broken her.
Dizzie laughed and laughed.
Portia had no idea what to do. “Do you need to go to the hospital? Should I call Killian?”
Dizzie stared at her. Tears streamed down her face. “What are you talking about, Portia?”
“This.” Portia waved her hand in loose circles in Dizzie’s direction. “I don’t know how to deal with someone who’s having a breakdown. Is it better to call Killian, or to take you to the hospital first?”
“You think I’m having a breakdown?” Dizzie laughed harder.
“I don’t know,” Portia said, her tone defensive. Her shoulders tensed. This was what she got for trying to be helpful and forgiving.
Dizzie made a visible effort to stop laughing or breaking or whatever it was that was happening right now. She sucked in heaving gasps of air as she fought to get her breathing under control. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m fine,” she said, then laughed again.
Portia set her jaw. “I still think you should get checked out.” Dizzie’s eyes were red and her face was blotchy.
