The picture had caught Nori on the verge of tears while Daisy held the golden egg in the air like it was the Harley J. Earl Trophy.
“I remember that day,” Kiyah said from beside me. “It was a month after Nori lost her hearing, and I guess Daisy was feeling hospitable and gifted her the egg.”
“Hm, it was only a temporary ceasefire on their shenanigans.”
“Things were peaceful for a little while until Nori’s birthday rolled around, and Daisy blew out her candles.”
I chuckled as I searched the wall for the photo. I found it and pointed it out.
“The look on Nori’s face was amusing.”
“Her face said, ‘Bitch, I know you’re lyin’.”
We shared a brief laugh before awkwardness settled in.
I guess it’s now or never.
“Kiyah… would you be open to going to therapy with me?”
Her brows shot to the top of her head.
“Are you serious?” she asked incredulously.
“I am. I’m trying to accept that we may never be romantic partners again; however, we are still family, and that will never change. You plan on sticking around, and we have to learnhow to get along without making it awkward for everyone.” She snorted and returned her gaze to the photos on the wall.
She knows I’m full of shit.
“Do you have a problem with my suggestion?”
She shrugged and said, “I don’t have a problem, but I feel you’re full of shit and not being honest.”
“I—”
“Grant, if by some miracle we forgive each other and put all our shit behind us, you’d want to give us another go.”
“You’re projecting, Kiyah.”
She’s not, but fuck her for being right.
“I’m not going to therapy with you if you can’t be truthful. It’d be a waste of time and money.”
My shoulders sagged in defeat as I stared at a photo of the entire family on a ski trip we took to Colorado.
“Fine. I didn’t mean the things I said—”
“You did. You wanted to hurt me,” she insisted. “As a matter of fact, you went out of your way to hurt me and disrespect our mother in the process. Mission accomplished, Grant.”
Fuck. We’re not getting anywhere.
“No bullshit?”
“No bullshit,” she affirmed.
“Eventually, I’d move on.” Her mouth made a popping sound when it fell open from my admission. “I’d find a nice enough woman, maybe the woman with the corgi, Lilah—”
“Layla,” she reminded me gently.
“Thank you, dear. As I was saying, I’d move on with Layla. We’d have a few corgis that we’d dress in ridiculous Halloween costumes because I feel like she’s that type of person. I’d propose to her with a moderate diamond ring that would pale in comparison to yours. We’d have a lavish wedding because she’d been dreaming of the perfect wedding since she was a little girl,and we’d pop out a few spoiled rotten kids. No doubt you’ll move on, probably with that finance fucker.”
