Karan, Cayce, and Corey are real. They’re my family too.
Océane is real.
And I have to tell Sophie about her.
A tear prickles at my eye. Under my palm, I sense Sophie tensing up. “What’s wrong?” As soon as the tear drops across my cheek, Sophie’s soft hand wipes it away. “Will?”
I have to tell her. Even if it destroys us.
Even if she hates me after this.
I cradle her cheek, leaning my forehead against hers. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
CHAPTER 33
SOPHIE
Shit.
He’s going to break up with me.
But that doesn’t make any sense. Just tonight, he told me he loves me. Unless he’s lying. Unless this is what he does to every woman he’s with.
No. This is different. Will has shown he’s different.
Unless …
He’s cheating.
No, stop it, Sophie. I need to give him more credit than that.Just let him talk.
A wave of nausea overtakes my body as I sit up in my bed, my thumb still wet from the tear I wiped away from Will’s cheek. “What is it?”
Will’s eyes go glassy. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. “You remember, when you met Matt and me, the kind of lifestyle we were living?”
I bite my lip. Of course I remember. The first year we dated, Matt continued to live his rock and roll life. He ditched the hard drugs, but he and Will still partied hard. But when we moved in together and got more serious, I told him he had to slow down if he wanted to be with me.
And slow down he did, thank God. I don’t know how much longer these two could have sustained it. Drinking as much as they did, and sleeping so little, that must’ve shaved a few years off their lives, hadn’t it?
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
“I don’t know what drove Matt to follow me in my debauchery.” His dark eyes travel downward. “His own demons, maybe. I’ll probably never know. But I need to tell you about mine.”
“Your … demons?” The words come out shaky.
“Yeah.” Will grabs hold of my hands, tethering himself to me. I can’t read his expression anymore. “I haven’t told you the truth about my family.”
I frown in confusion. This isn’t going where I thought at all. But Will continues, “It’s just the three of us now. Me, Rachel, and Océane.” Right. He has a second sister. Whom I know hardly anything about. “Neither of us speaks to our parents anymore.”
“Why?” My stomach churns. I’m terrified.
Will takes a deep breath, letting it out in a ragged sigh. “In her early teens, Océane got sick. She started oversleeping, was always tired, would complain she was in pain. Her grades started going down. Before, she got straight A’s. Just like me and Rachel. Just like my parents pushed her for.” His grip on my hand tightens. “That’s when the abuse started.”
My heart sinks all the way down to my toes. A wave of sadness crashes through me, and all I can do is hold on to Will for dear life. “Oh, Will.”
“We only found out later, when Rachel got Océane out and helped her find a doctor who believed her … she has fibromyalgia. And chronic depression. I can’t really blame her for that.” He laughs without humour. “My parents never believed her. They thought she was making excuses. Being lazy. They belittled her, screamed at her, called her names, gaslit her,took away her privileges when her grades fell.” He’s shaking now. I scoot closer, wanting to offer him all the comfort I can. “Both Rachel and I had moved out of the house by then, but Rachel stood up for her. She’s the one who got her out when things got physical.” My breath catches in my throat.
A hot seed of hatred blooms underneath my breastbone—hatred for two people I don’t even know. I can’t fathom treating my kids that way. “How could they call themselves parents?” I utter in disgust. “To prey on your own child like that … on someone so vulnerable …”
