She glances from me to Dom with the wary expression of someone wanting to pry but knowing better.
“You take your time.” She offers us smiles. “I have the pie on the table whenever you’re ready to join us.”
We say nothing. Not even when she turns and disappears around the corner. I think we’re both trying to understand the other. Trying to come to some peaceful resolution neither of us is going to find.
“She is not your sister. Never was. Never will be.” Dom breaks the silent war first. “At this point, it’s a cute kink at best.”
“She was thirteen,” I remind him through gritted teeth. “Barely double digits and we were a year deep into university.”
“Did you fuck her?” he snaps back.
I physically recoil. “Of course not.”
There is real effort on his face trying to file down the sharp edges of whatever he actually wants to say.
“We met her twice that summer. When your dad introduced her and Macie. Then again at the wedding. In total, we spent all of four hours breathing the same air as her because I don’t recall either of us saying more than a passing hello to her.”
Less.
I don’t think I even said hello to her. There was a second where I spared her a glance, took in the wide eyes and dark hair, and resumed my life. I can’t even pretend to remember what she was wearing. I don’t think I even remembered her name untilalmost a year later when we went to Dad’s for Christmas. Two years, actually. We spent the previous two with my mom, then Dom’s parents. She was fifteen? Sixteen? When I saw her again.
“That won’t matter,” I tell the man glowering at me.
“It does. It matters greatly. If you do the math, which I have, from the time Walker married Macie until the time she turned eighteen, we visited twice, for a weekend at best. Aside from the casual greeting, I don’t think I had a single conversation with her.”
While impressed by his deep consideration of this complex and insane situation, I roll my eyes.
“Are you going to break this down for every person who accuses us of grooming her?”
“Who the fuck is going to know she’s your stepsister, Nick? Do you plan to get an advertisement written in the paper? Print T-shirts? Unless we tell people not a soul is going to—”
“Everyone in Piper Falls will know,” I remind him. “It would only take one.”
“Everyone in Piper Falls knows the whole story, and who gives a shit? Are you planning to run for mayor of New York? President?” He sucks in a whole lot of air that expands his chest before he exhales and claps both hands on my shoulders. “I love you and I would give my life for yours, but you are seriously overthinking this.”
“I’m not,” I press, refusing to sway. “It’s beyond just this. She’s not going to stay, Dom. We’re going to let her into our lives, possibly bring a baby into it, things will get hard and she will run.”
“She won’t.”
His absolute refusal to believe the clear evidence only refuels my irritation.
“She always runs,” I hiss.
“Have you ever stopped to ask why—?”
The noisy clang and clatter of something crashing across the floor silences us. It’s followed by the low hiss of cuss words and more ruckus.
Dom and I exchange brief glances before we follow the noise to the front door, and a red faced, fully dressed Isla with a fully packed duffle caught on her elbow. The umbrella stand lays at her booted feet, umbrellas scattered across the front mat.
But all I see is the bag weighing her down and the glint of sheer guilt in her eyes when she catches sight of us.
“I…”
I hate the clawing pain in my chest. The frothing anger in my gut.
I hate the look I slice in Dom’s direction.
I know I don’t have to say it when it’s all over my face.
