“Nice place,” she says, filling the awkward silence and pulling me from my memories.
“Yeah,” I say when my brain offers nothing better.
She hovers in front of the couch, her overnight bag still slung over her shoulder like she’s ready to bolt.
“Uh, have a seat.” I wave my hand for her to sit down as I drop onto the other couch.
Tori hesitates for a moment before following suit, relaxing into the worn leather as my phone vibrates from where I left it on the coffee table.
Not wanting Juliet to think I’m ghosting her, I pick it up and quickly tap out a message, telling her my sister is here.
As I’m typing, Tori eyes it warily.
“So, your phone does work.”
I grimace, slipping it into my pocket. “Sorry.”
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Me, too.”
I don’t even know why I’ve been avoiding her calls for the last couple of months, but the guilt rolls in thick and hard now.
“How did you know I didn’t have an away game?”
“I checked the university webpage.”
I huff a laugh. Of course she did. Tori’s always been resourceful.
She bites her lip, her blue eyes fixing on me for the first time since she arrived. “I wouldn’t have had to if you’d answered your phone.”
My stomach drops. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been?—”
I cut myself off, realising how much of a dick I was about to sound. Was I seriously about to say that I’ve beentoo busy for my only living relative? What the fuck is wrong with me.
Slumping back into the couch, I run a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, Tori.”
She gives me a sad smile. “I’m sorry, too, Blake. This isn’t just on you. Things have been getting worse between us, and I haven’t done anything to stop it.”
I meet her gaze. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Mostly.” She casts another look around my living space. “But I also wanted to see your life here. You never really say much when you come to visit, and while I can see you’ve changed, I’m also worried about you.”
The tightening in my chest becomes almost unbearable. “You don’t need to worry about me anymore, Tori. I don’t plan on falling back into that black hole anytime soon.”
Tears shine in her eyes. “I’ll never not worry about you. You’re my brother.”
I study her, unease settling deep in my gut. “Is something else going on? Did something happen between you and Sam?”
It’s no secret I don’t like her husband. We’ve come to blows a lot since they got together six years ago, and I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine on their wedding day.
A shudder rolls through me at the memory of the tears streaking down Tori’s face when her new husband and his best man ejected me from the reception and told me to get my act together before I lost my sister for good. I followed it up with a four-day bender of drugs, alcohol, and women, and Tori postponed their honeymoon because she wouldn’t leave until they found me.
Sam dragged me out of the seedy drug den days laterand gave me an ultimatum: go to rehab or never see your sister again. I accepted. I’d have been stupid not to. Two days later, they left for their honeymoon, and I spent the next four months detoxing and undertaking individual counselling and group therapy sessions. As much as I hate the guy, he saved my life, but my relationship with my sister has never really recovered.
I don’t blame her. I’ve ruined her life in more ways than one.
“Nothing’s happened with Sam,” she says, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “Well, nothing bad, anyway.”
A spark of apprehension or fear flashes in her eyes when she lifts them to meet mine.
