She gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Trust me, I’m not. I’ve made enough bad decisions of my own. It’s just easier to spot them in other people.”
That earns her a real laugh. One that’s more genuine than anything that’s left my mouth in days. “You want to talk about it? You know I’m a good listener.” I pause. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. That’s kind of a Van Doren thing—we don’t quit on each other.”
Kia doesn’t answer right away, and a silence stretches between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. She pulls the blanket tighter around herself, her gaze drifting somewhere distant. When she finally speaks, there’s a rawness woven through every syllable. “It’s weird… I never knew Dad because he died before I was born, but I still miss him. Miss what should’ve been.”
The shift in topic knocks me off balance. I hadn’t expected her to go there, and for a second, I don’t know what to say. The ache in her tone lands somewhere deep.
I pocket my phone and move to the couch, settling beside her. The cushions dip as I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her against me. She fits there easily, small and familiar.
“Out of all of us, you were cheated the most. At least I remember a little. Though half of it’s probably stories Mom told me so many times I’ve made them my own.”
She leans into me, her head resting against my shoulder. “We all got the short end of the stick.”
“Maybe,” I acknowledge. “But it’s also what made us so close. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
Her mouth curves against my sleeve. “Uh-oh, someone’s getting sentimental.”
“Possibly,” I say, brushing her hair off her forehead. “But don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my image.”
She laughs. It’s a tired sound, but it softens the edges of the moment, and the tension that’s been holding the air hostage finally eases.
“I’m lucky to have you guys.”
“Right back at you, Sis.” I press a kiss against her hair and catch the faint scent of her shampoo. It’s something clean and familiar. “You can stay here as long as you want.”
“Thanks,” she says, the sentiment muted but genuine. “I might take you up on the invitation.”
A few beats of quiet settle between us, thick with everything we’ve said. Along with the things we haven’t.
It’s reminiscent of the feeling I had in that hospital room years ago when everything else stopped. Maybe that’s why I hold on so hard when I love. Because I know what it feels like when someone disappears from your life in the blink of an eye.
“So, just to clarify…” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re absolutely sure I shouldn’t drive to Rina’s mom’s house and demand she talk to me?”
Kia groans, dragging a hand down her face. “Only if you’re hoping for a restraining order.”
I grin. “Would that really be the worst thing?”
She shoots me a flat look. “Yeah, it would. And Mom would lose her shit. You might be a grown man, but she’ll still kick your ass.”
That pulls a quiet chuckle from me. “You’re right about that.”
“I always am.” She fights another yawn. “Just give her time, Ollie. She’ll come around.”
I watch my sister for a second before leaning back, the leather of the couch cool against my skin, as my gaze drifts to the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Somewhere out there, Rina’s probably looking at the same skyline.
Maybe she’s talking to someone who understands her better than I can right now.
Someone who knows what it’s like to build walls and call it safety.
The thought settles behind my breastbone. And for the first time tonight, the panic quiets, and I finally relax.
“You’ll figure it out,” Kia whispers.
Maybe love isn’t about holding on so tightly that nothing can slip away. Maybe it’s about trusting what’s real enough to stay.
I hope my sister’s right.
