“That’s how long your fake regret lasted before you justified your lies by making me the bad guy. Of course I thought about everything. You could’ve done the mature thing and talked to us both.”
“Done.” Russell strode back in, chin high, like he still owned the room.
I took the bag from his hands. “Did you sign the consent form?”
He crossed his arms. “I did.”
“Anything else you two lied about?”
Russell widened his stance, jaw working, but the usual smugness wasn’t there. Just color rising along his cheekbones.
My throat burned with all the years of unsaid shit, but the only closure I needed were the test results. I swept my gaze over them—pale faces, sharp edges, too defensive to admit guilt.
“Go on, enjoy your evening,” I said.
“Will you. . .” my mother stammered out. “Will you let us know when you get the results?”
I huffed out a dry laugh. “So now you’re interested in the truth?” After a pause, I added, “I’ll let you know.”
Without waiting for her answer, I spun on my heel and walked out.
Cool wind hit my face in the driveway. I rubbed my hands over it until I was steady enough to ride.
Then I got on my bike.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
Kaia
Iheld up the lopsided yarn rectangle that was supposed to be the start of a scarf for Asher. “Be honest—should I quit now?”
Across the couch, Alba giggled and closed her book. “No. Just undo it and start over. You should’ve seen my first pieces—worthy of an exhibition calledEasy Things Nobody But Alba Screws Up. It took me months to learn and years to perfect.”
“But look at you now. So talented.” I tugged at both sides of the uneven midnight-blue rectangle, stretching it. “Where did I go wrong?”
She squinted, leaning in. “The foundation chain’s too tight. And I think you skipped a few stitches in the middle.”
“Awesome. At least it’s ten rows, not a hundred.” I dropped my creation onto my lap. “I’ll make some tea and try again. Need to learn while you’re still here to guide me.”
Her dad had accepted the job offer. He’d start coaching in June—way sooner than we expected. I was soaking up every moment with her while I still could.
The intercom buzzed just as I stepped into the kitchen.
“Did you stress-buy anything?” Alba called.
I chuckled, reaching for a mug. “No money for indulgence. Can you get that?”
“On it.”
The kettle whistled. I turned off the stove and dropped two bags into identical cat-patterned mugs. Alba liked to joke that if we couldn’t date twins, at least we could drink from the same cups.
“Kaia,” she sang out, “someone’s here to see you!”
It had to be one of the girls from work. I’d been distracted lately, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone dropped off something I’d forgotten at the studio.
I hurried to the foyer. My steps froze. Then I squealed and launched myself at Asher.
He caught me, laughing. “Careful, peque.”
