He cleared his throat. “When I learned about Evangeline’s illness, I think this ‘anticipatory grief’ had me racing against the clock to develop a drug. Then,after, guilt consumed me. I didn’t work fast enough. Wasn’t good enough?—”
“That’s not true,” I argued.
“It is true. It took me years?—”
“Yes! Because that’s how long meds take to develop.Ifa solution is even possible or workable. Sheesh, Stan. Be kind to yourself a little, huh?
“Scientists spend years creating new compounds. Then testing them. And they don’t have a full-time job as a Capo!” My hands wafted in the air at him.
“I wasted time on Red?—”
“Why?”
“Luc and Rory are forgiving, but developing Vangelin was costly. I needed to fund it somehow.E quindi,I understand this anticipatory grief.”
I grabbed his hand. “You don’t think I’m weird?”
“If you are, then I am too.” Frowning, he studied our entwined fingers. “When I bring her up, does it hurt you?”
I thought about his question but answered honestly, “No.” His confusion had me taunting, “Did you want it to?”
He tugged on our joined hands. “No!”
“I think you loved her and that is never something to be hurt about.” Because I understood what he was asking, even if he didn’t spell it out, I continued, “And there’s no point being jealous of a dead woman. I can hurt for her and for you.
“I can wish things had ended differently for her while still hoping that destiny would have played a hand and we’d have found our way to one another.”
“I think I was blind,” he admitted rawly. “I thought my feelings for her were one thing, but after she turned eighteen,I could never do it. Could never talk to her about how I felt. It seemed so perverted. The age gap between us was immense. Bridging it…impossible.”
“To repeat something Currau said, I think it’s a testament to how fucked up the world is.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… men and women are rarely allowed to be friends without people thinking there’s more to it. Men and women can’t have a sibling link without someone assuming something.” I hitched a shoulder. “We hypersexualize everything, but it’s not always about sex. It’s about love.
“The Ancient Greeks thought there were seven types of love, but nowadays, that’s not fashionable to believe.”
I stared into his soulful eyes, feeling my heart break for what he’d gone through. I’d suffered enough grief to hurt for him, rather than to envy what he’d once felt for a now-dead woman.
“No, I guess not.”
“How did you meet her?”
“You want to talk about it?”
“I think you haven’t talked about it enough,” I chastised, amused.
“We took over this sweatshop.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll never forget the sight of her and her mother. They were living like rats. The conditions… they horrified Luc and me. They slept on the floor on mats made of plastic bags. They shared a single toilet between twenty of them.” His gaze turned inward. “I was young. Barely a man. It left a lasting impression on me. I wanted more for them, forher.”
I lifted his hand to my lips so I could kiss his knuckles. “Trauma begets trauma. When my brother died, our whole house seemed to freeze. Lucas blamed Cade for Vinny’s death?—”
“Why?”
“Because they used to race streetcars together and that’s how Vinny passed away. In a crash. Ma broke down completely, Lucas blamed Cade, and Raisin, Neev, and I, we… floundered. But Cade—he stopped eating and began working out like crazy. He doubled in size and it wasn’t like he was a weedy kid to start with.
“Looking back, I’d go as far as to say that he had an eating disorder, but we were all so lost…” I shook my head. “The worst moments in our lives shape our futures. It’s no wonder that you wanted to take her under your wing.”
“You know what I’m capable of, Kitty. I don’t think I deserve for you to be this generous with me.”
