“Okay, okay,” Erin says between bites, pointing her fork at me as soon as Isaac’s finished with his story and I’m thoroughly blushing. “Don’t forget you have one more present to open.”
“You mean the text you sent me this morning wasn’t the gift?” I deadpan.
“The text was a warning,” she corrects, tucking hair behind her ear. “You need emotional preparation.”
Her text had buzzed my phone awake this morning a full hour before my alarm.
Erin:Happy birthday, bitch! Do NOT emotionally implode when I give you your gift, but get ready for Feelings Fiasco™. Hydrate and don’t look at Bodie for support since we both know he panics under pressure.
I’d read through it at least three times, trying to decide if I should be touched or concerned.
Possibly both.
Bodie snorts. “That means it’s terrible.”
“It means you’re an ass,” she fires back.
Dad chuckles into his cake, and for a second, I think I’m dreaming.
My dad just laughed?
Is this the dream or was the past half year a dream? Because it’s almost easy to believe this is how things have always been. No storms. No secrets. No missing people or long-lost brothers. No fear of falling, of a drop whispering lies about gravity and fate.
“Speaking of being an ass,” Erin says around a bite of cake. “Guess who I ran into yesterday.” When we all look at her expectantly, she answers, “Pierce Grant.”
The air in the room seems to shift. Bodie lowers his gaze to his lap, and a silence settles over us for a few seconds before my dad’s fork hits his plate a little too hard when he sets it down. It’s a quick, metallic clink that rings through the otherwise quiet room until Erin speaks again, completely oblivious to the change. Everyone knows the truth about what happened, but Erin’s never really had much of a filter.
“It wasn’t dramatic or anything. He was just outside the pharmacy. And honestly? I kind of felt bad for him.”
Bodie looks up and raises a brow. “ForPierce?”
“I know,” she says with a shrug. “He’s an asshole. But I guess I feel sorry for him that his dad was an even bigger dick than he is and now he’s gone. It’s gotta be hard.”
“I think it is hard for him,” I agree. “He actually apologized to me a couple weeks ago.”
Everyone’s eyes land on me.
Even Isaac turns his head a little, like he’s hearing it for the first time even though he already knows. Maybe he’s surprised I’m actually okay with talking about it at all.
Erin blinks. “Pierceapologized?”
“Yeah,” I say, picking up a scrap of wrapping paper off the cushion beside me and letting it flutter to the floor to join the rest. “I think losing people we care about changes all of us, but…I don’t know. I think there’s something more to it for him.”
There’s a beat where no one says anything. Then Bodie’s gaze flicks toward my dad, and it’s almost a…scowl. Dad meets it, his more of a frown. It’s a small contact, barely a breath of a moment, but I see it. Something passes between them. Something I’m not meant to catch.
My dad clears his throat. “Well, that’s…good to hear he might be trying to turn over a new leaf.”
Bodie’s foot taps twice on the floor before he stills it. “People surprise you, I guess.”
Erin claps her hands suddenly, unaware of the undercurrent. “Okay! Present time again. Open mine before I explode.”
Everyone laughs, even Dad, and the warmth seeps back into the room.
But the look between Bodie and my father lingers in the back of my mind like the afterimage of lightning burned into the sky—not bright enough to understand the meaning of but impossible to ignore.
But I guess I have to.
Erin grabs the last wrapped box off the coffee table and hands it to me with a beaming smile she can’t seem to control. It makes me a little nervous all over again.
