Her green eyes remind me of Océane, and my stomach turns to lead.
Doubt claws at my spine, its cold fingers casting a shadow over this perfect evening. Things are going so well. Soon, I’ll feel ready to talk to Océane. But when I finally tell Sophie about my youngest sister, I know everything I have will disintegrate within my fingers. Sophie’s view of me as unreliable will only solidify in her mind.
But not tonight. Tonight, I have her. I have this family. And I’m going to revel in this moment—in her love—as much as I can, because there is no other option for me.
Fuck … when this all comes crashing down, it’s going to hurt.
CHAPTER 29
SOPHIE
Asmug look crosses my face. “Fancy,” I say, nodding in approval as I sink into the overstuffed chair in the corner of Will’s office, Julian still strapped to my chest.
When Will suggested working at his office today so he could get a few things in order, I was apprehensive. Babies and corporate settings don’t typically mix. But Will reassured me that Julian and I would be welcome.
So far, he’s been right. As we walked to his glass-walled office, I received warm smiles and even a few coos of adoration from his colleagues. We ran into Rob, who still looked too tired to be here but brightened up at the sight of a sleeping Julian bundled against me.
I watch with curiosity as Will settles into his chair, turning on his computer and straightening the few items decorating his desk. There’s a framed photo of Rachel, Karan, and the twins, an Employee of the Month trophy, and another picture in a much smaller frame. I squint and lean forward to make out the three figures in it.
The first one is unmistakably a young Will, likely in his preteens or early teens. Next to him is a younger girl, probably Rachel, looking at the camera shyly with a close-mouthed smile,her long hair tied into two braids cascading over her shoulders. On Will’s knees sits a chubby-cheeked toddler in a bright green dress, a ribbon headband decorating her wispy hair.
She seems familiar. But I don’t know why. Maybe because she looks so much like Rachel?
“Is that a sister?” I ask. “Or a cousin, maybe?”
Will freezes, his back still to me. “In that photo,” I continue, pointing toward the frame in question. “The little one.”
Will remains still. Ice crawls over my skin—what if she died? Just last week, when we were at Rachel’s house, she told me Will went through a lot. Did I just bring up something traumatic for him?
Before I can reassure him that he doesn’t have to share, he swivels his chair to face me. There’s an uneasy smile adorning his lips. “Sister.”
I wait for him to volunteer more information. When I don’t say anything, he continues. “Her name’s Océane.” His eyes drift away from me, focusing on nothing in particular. “You’ll meet her someday. Maybe soon.”
Phew. Not dead. Okay.
My phone’s ringtone breaks the moment, snapping Will out of whatever bubble he’s in. Julian stirs but doesn’t wake, and I notice Mom’s name on my screen. “I better take this,” I tell Will as I stand and head toward the door. I remember seeing a balcony down the hall, so I head in that direction while answering. “Hey, Mom.”
“Honey! I’m at the duty-free shop in the airport.” Right—she’s due back from her trip today. “I’m grabbing a couple of bottles of wine for myself and wanted to check if you wanted any.”
A good bottle of white would be great right about now. But I can’t drink more than a small glass, and only at specific intervalsbetween Julian’s feedings. And Will isn’t particularly into white wine, either. He and Matt were more into craft beer.
I reach the balcony door and step outside, immediately invigorated by the cool—no, chilly—breeze. The balcony is large enough to accommodate at least four or five regular-sized dining tables, and high enough to overlook the city skyline below. I lean back against the railing, taking in the sight of the bustling city below, where the bright reds and oranges of the trees are at their pinnacle. “I think I’m good, Mom. How was your trip?”
“It was fine, honey, but I miss the kids so much! Maybe I should have done a staycation instead of Florida.”
“Bin non, Mom. You deserved it.” That woman works so hard. She has always worked so hard. The last thing I want is for her to use up her vacation time to babysit.
I turn slightly, leaning more heavily on my left arm to avoid pressing Julian against the railing. Something catches my attention from the corner of my eye—I spin to face the glass door and see Will staring back at me. A goofy grin is plastered on his face, which should clash with his suited-up appearance, yet somehow it doesn’t.
He’s perfectly delicious.
A giggle escapes my lips before I can stop myself. “What’s funny?” Mom asks.
Right. Mom doesn’t know. I smile back at Will, who signals something to me—something about going somewhere for five minutes?—and revel in the butterflies that swarm my belly.
I’m in love.
“So … funny story,” I start, then recap the past few weeks to Mom. I leave out the parts she doesn’t need to know about, like how Will can play my body like a fiddle. But by the end, she gasps on the other end of the line.
