“I’m so sorry, Vi. I’ve caught you quite a few times just randomly staring at your phone. Even saw you in a text thread one time if I’m not mistaken. I know you miss him, but if he’s adamant on pushing you away then maybe it’s time to cut your losses.” She looks at me with pity, but it doesn’t bother me because in the next second there’s so much love in her eyes. “I think I know what you need.”
“What’s that?”
“A distraction.”
Distraction.
I almost hate that word. Colson and I have always been that to each other. I hate to think about someone else taking that job or claiming my position, but maybe Olive is right. Maybe it’s time to get the hell away.
I let out a pathetic laugh. “I don’t think I can handle any of your crazy ideas right now, Olive Garden.”
She points a finger at me. “Just for that, you have no choice.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
COLSON
Finn:Just going to keep ignoring my texts?
Finn:I can see that you’re reading them, you know.
Finn:Whatever. Ignore me all you want.
Finn:Doesn’t change the fact that we’re brothers.
Colson:We’re not anything. Lose my number.
Finn:Ah, he speaks. The blessing of the century.
Colson:The blessing of the century will be when you get it through your thick head that I want nothing to do with you.
Grabbingmy polo and a pair of jeans out of the janky washing machine, I prop the gray shirt on top of it and yank the denim up my legs. I have a shift at Gulliver’s, and while I’m not exactly looking forward to it, I have to go. I don’t have it in me to let Llewellyn down despite doing it with everyone else in my life.Besides, he gave me enough time off as it is, and I like being at the gym. The atmosphere creates this resemblance of peace I haven’t had in way too long, and it’s probably a good idea that I get back to my daily routine—or as close to the one I had before Mom died.
I finish dressing then make my way back to Mom’s room. It’s become my own sanctuary, the one across the hall long forgotten. I haven’t slept in it a day since being back. Being in it only reminds me of Thanksgiving night, and I can’t go there.
Violet already pops up in my head at the most inconvenient times. Never mind the fact that it’s been more prominent since New Year’s when she got off my lap and walked away from me. I hate that she asked me to stop fighting. I hate even more that I couldn’t tell her I’d stop for her.
I’ve done a decent job at making Mom’s space my own and glance at a few of my belongings throughout the room. I grab my phone from the nightstand and light up the screen. There are unread messages. I get them every day, but I’ve gotten really good at ignoring them, at pretending they don’t exist and there aren’t people out there looking out for me. Their concern is relentless, and while I appreciated it back when Sebastian came through and let me move into his apartment with him, I just want to be left alone now.
Solitary is all my heart reaches for as I ignore everyone’s texts, including Finn’s. The loneliness that digs into me isn’t uncomfortable but warranted. I deserve to stew in the ramifications of not helping Mom sooner, and instead, giving the Lincolns more of my attention.
I should have helped her, goddamnit.
Gotten her back into rehab andthenpaid them back.
But I didn’t do it that way and now she’s dead.
Fucking gone.
This pressure weighs down on my chest as I tuck my phone into my pocket and grab my keys. I don’t bother giving the rest of the house attention as I leave through the front door. I jiggle the doorknob just to make sure it’s locked and jog down the steps toward my car.
But then my feet come to a screeching halt halfway down the walkway. The car parked in front of mine doesn't belong there. It sticks out like a sore thumb but only because I’ve never seen that make and model on this street before.
The brazen man leaning against the passenger door is new, too. He’s an older version of Finn and me. I send him a heated glare that’s almost natural at this point. Clyde Lincoln doesn’t look at me with fatherly love in his eyes or with that forgiving look parents often give their children no matter their attitude. He regards me as if everything about me and our connection is conditional.
Like I’m a business deal he has yet to wrap up.
It only confirms the kind of person he is, one I want nowhere near me or this house.
