My chest vibrates with a light chuckle.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, leaning her head back against my arm so she can see my face. “I spoke to Dad’s doctor at the house that day.”
My heart jolts in my chest. How can she talk about it so frankly?
Why is my baby sister stronger than I am?
“He never received any treatment offered.”
“What?” I snap, my face screwing up as I look down at her. “What do you mean?”
“He rejected the option of having a transplant. He didn’t think he deserved one.”
“He knew he was going to die?”
“Yeah, maybe not as soon as he did. But Dr Sarnmer told me he was aware the end was near. Nearer thanwethought anyway.”
“Why didn’t he tell us? Tell you?”
He wouldn’t have told me. He probably thought I didn’t care.
“Because he knew we would never have allowed it.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Sorry, I just thought you should know,” she whispers.
I wish I didn’t. He spent months at the house knowing he would die and didn’t do a thing about it.
“He met Nina.” She smiles. “I know having you come to the house was important to him. He saw the shift, Mason.”
“Yeah.”
She smiles up at me knowingly, and I glare back, unsure of what is about to leave her mouth. “Nina told me about the proposal.”
“It wasn’t a proposal!” I drop my head back. Why did I ever say that? I should have kept my mouth closed.
She laughs. “She isn’t as freaked out as you think. She just wasn’t expecting it.”
I shake my head, thinking about my stubborn Pixie. She drives me crazy in the best possible way.
“She’s special. You did good,” Scarlet tells me.
“I only mentioned it because I felt like I could see it. You know, marriage, kids, a place out of the city. I know how desperately she craves a home—something more than she had.”
“Kids? Did you just say kids?”
“Not yet.” I shake my head, smiling. “But in the future, with Nina? Absolutely.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah.” Real fucking interesting since she point blank told me no.
Nina
The last few days have passed in a blur. The girls haven’t mentioned what happened, and I’m grateful. I’ve still not had my period, and although I’ve tried to bury my head in the sand about it, my conscience has been working overtime.
I’ve barely drunk, and I have faked two migraines to get out of the evening drinking sessions. No one suspected a thing, and I didn’t make a big deal out of it, but the girls know me. They can tell I’m rattled.
