“Holy hell,” she breathes out in disbelief.
“Not exactly the birthday present I was expecting.”
“That’s why you bailed on the dinner mom made for you.” She takes my hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, Vi.”
“It’s not your fuck-up to apologize for.”
“No, but I could’ve been there for you.”
I shake my head. “It was my choice to keep it to myself. I didn’t know how to tell you or Mom. I didn’t want to risk?—”
“Oh my God. Mom.” She looks toward the doorway but notices we’re alone. “She’s going to be crushed.”
“I don’t even want to think about it,” I tell her honestly. “It’s been on replay in my head for months.”
“Should we go talk to her?”
“No, I think it’s best for her to talk to him right now. Let them figure out what it means for them. Are you good?”
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “What you said out there…I’m hurt over it, yes, but I’m not as fragile as I used to be,Violet. This is a lot different than what I went through. I think the better question is, areyouokay?”
“Honestly, no.”
TWENTY-NINE
VIOLET
“I don’t wantyour visit to get cut short because of him,” Olive whines from my bed. Sitting cross-legged with a pillow in her lap and picking at the tiny frays in the seam, she watches as I make sure I have everything I brought.
After an extremely awkward dinner, where the four of us sat at the table and didn’t say a word, but rather pushed food in circles on our plates, I decided packing and returning to Spring Meadows was for the best. I’m relieved that Olive and Mom—who I have yet to talk with—know, but I can’t stay the night like I originally planned.
“We’ll see each other again soon,” I promise.
“When? I go back to Winchester next week.”
I collect the few things I unpacked and unplug my charger cord from the wall, wrapping it up and shoving it into the side pouch of my overnight bag. “Maybe we’ll get lunch on the strip over the weekend.”
She sighs, not happy about a measly sister lunch-date. “Fine.”
“It’s too much for me to be here right now, Olive.”
“You said that already.”
She says it in a clipped tone, but I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. She’s just upset that the holiday didn’t go as planned and that we won’t have more time together.
A soft knock sounds at the door when I yank on the zipper on my bag. Olive and I look at each other. She breathes, “Do you think that’s him?”
I shrug because who knows. Part of me feels like I don’t know who our dad is anymore. Would he come to apologize? To tell me he feels bad for all that’s gone down? That he feels awful for ruining our holiday as a family? The man I knew before this happened would. He’d do anything to earn my forgiveness back, but this unknown version?
We both must have a sudden sixth sense because I’m pretty sure I know who’s on the other side of the door before opening it. My sister folds up from my bed, throwing the pillow back on it behind her. Giving me a quick squeeze, she expresses how much she loves me then slips out past mom, who palms my cheek with a crestfallen expression before moving to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Violet, honey, you don’t have to leave over this.”
I move to sit next to her. No matter what anyone says, I’m going back to my apartment tonight. Because everyone is home for the holiday, it’ll be empty. I’m looking forward to processing the day, to getting out of this house and knowing that I won’t turn a corner and see my dad.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I can’t begin to fathom what she might be going through. For twenty-ish years, they’ve built a life together, created a family, and now what? What is she supposed to do next?
She pats my leg, and I can’t help but glance at the gold wedding band on her ring finger and the glorious diamond that shines atop it. “I’m okay.”
