“I’m an idiot,” he said softly, his voice cracking as he forced the words out. “But I needed to see you—needed to talk to you.”
They were twins, and Quinn would always need her, even in death. Without her, he was only half a person, so being near her was the only way for him to feel whole again.
“Why didn’t you tell me about August?” Quinn asked, swallowing hard around the knot in his throat. “You never mentioned him, which is surprising because you’re as much of a gossip as Bea is.”
A chill breeze blew past him, rustling the leaves of a memorial tree a few feet away. The swishing sounds could have passed for whispers, and Quinn found himself smiling at the thought.
“I know, you didn’t want to bring up bad memories,” said Quinn. “But it would have been nice to have alittlewarning before walking into that jump scare.”
A winter songbird chittered happily from the treeline, and Quinn huffed and glared at the flowers in his hands. He was admittedly a bit eccentric, but not eccentric enough to start talking to woodland creatures. He would save that for his next mental breakdown—which was probably coming soon if he didn’t keep a hold on the August situation.
Why had he brought flowers? The ground was too frozen to put them in the vase in front of the grave, and the cold would kill them as soon as the sun went down.
Quinn touched his finger to the velvet-soft petal of one of the white roses, brushing it along the smooth surface until his anger spiked, and he pinched it.
“I hate him,” Quinn said, plucking the petal off the rose with a small snap. He tossed it into the wind, watching as it drifted away like a big snowflake until it got caught in an updraft and sucked into the sky.
“I don’t hate him,” said Quinn, snapping off another petal to throw.
“I hate him.”
Snap.
“I don’t hate him.”
Snap.
“He’s changed.”
Snap.
“He hasn’t changed.”
Snap.
“I like him.”
Snap.
“I don’t like him.”
Snap.
“I should take revenge.”
Snap.
“I should—”
Quinn paused, rubbing the next petal between his fingers. “I should let it go.”
Snap.
“I shouldn’t give him a chance.”
Snap.
Staring at the final petal on his mangled rose, Quinn sighed. “I should give him a chance.”
