My heart starts to pound again—loud, fast, painful. I reach for the wine without thinking and take another sip, but it doesn’t go down easily this time. It scrapes. “Why wouldn’t he just tell me?” I whisper, and this time I can hear the crack in my own voice. My hands shake. I press them against the table to keep them still, but it doesn’t help. The world feels like it’s shifting under my feet, everything I thought I knew about him warping into something darker. Something more dangerous. My heart drums in my ears.
Neve hesitates for a second too long. Then she says it. “He thinks Clay is going to go after you.”
My breath catches. “But… why?” I ask, already hating the way my voice sounds—small, scared. Unfamiliar.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. That’s all I know.”
She looks at me like she’s said too much. Like she’s waiting for me to fall apart. Maybe it’s my face, or the way I’ve gone too still. I can’t tell.
“My sister used to fight with him all the time about Clay,” she adds quickly. “She didn’t want him to have any part in it.”
It takes a second for the words to click. Because all I’m thinking about is Clay—what he might do if he really is coming. What it would feel like to have someone like that looking for me. Finding me.
And then it hits me.
Wait.
Wait.
My mind stutters. “What did you just say?”
Neve blinks. “What?”
“Your sister,” I whisper. “Who’s your sister?”
She looks away for a moment, then meets my eyes again.
“Laura,” she says.
Everything in me tightens. I want to ask a thousand questions—what was she like? What happened? Did she love him? Did he love her? Does he love me? I feel like if I press, I’ll break something in both of us. So I just sit there. Silent. Trying to breathe around all the things I’m not ready to know.
“You can ask me anything,” she says softly. “I can see it all over your face—how badly you want to.”
Relief rushes through me so fast it nearly knocks me back. “Thank God.” I don’t even hesitate. “How did she die?” I blurt. “How long were they married? What kind of couple were they?” I can’t stop myself. “Did she love him? Did he love her? Were they happy? Did she know what he was involved in? Did she try to stop him?” The questions pour out of me like a dam finally cracked wide open. I press my palms to my thighs, trying to keep the shake out of them. “I’m sorry,” I add, breathless. “But I need to know. Because I love him. And I’m starting to think I don’t know him at all.”
Neve doesn’t answer right away. She stands up and opens the fridge. “We should eat something while we talk,” she says finally. “That wine’s going to hit harder if we don’t.”
I nod, my pulse still racing from the flood of questions I threw at her. She pulls out a container of fruit salad and sets it on the table. I grab a box of crackers and some forks, and we settle at the table, sharing the snacks.
“She and Damian met in high school,” Neve says, poking at a chunk of cantaloupe. “They were together on and off for years. Always intense. Loud, passionate, break-up-and-get-back-together kind of thing. My parents hated it. God, they hated him.”
“Why?” I ask.
Neve glances at me. “Because he was already wrapped up in Clay’s world. And Laura… she was different. She was smart. Had a full ride to college lined up, big plans. But she loved him.”
My chest tightens as I chew slowly. Each bite feels like it gets stuck halfway down.
“She got pregnant right after their high school graduation,” Neve continues. “She was scared at first, but then she got excited. Decided she wanted to keep the baby, start a life with him.”
I freeze. Fork halfway to my mouth.
Pregnant?
Damian has a child?
My stomach lurches. For one awful second, I picture her child—hischild. The life they almost had together. The part of him I’ll never get to touch. Something cold and sharp slices through my ribs.
Neve sees it immediately and shakes her head.
