The next morning, I rush to the ceramic café to pick up our finished pieces, wanting to surprise Marlow and Michaela with them.
Afterwards, I go through the motions of preparing the pancake batter and filling the coffee pot.
I have a game in the afternoon, but I don’t want to leave my home until I have a conversation with Michaela and then my dream girl.
Both of them should be up pretty soon. I head down the hallway to Michaela’s room first and give the door a knock. “Michaela?”
“Come in.” Her voice sounds muffled and a hint sullen.
Twisting the doorknob, I enter and find Michaela sitting on her bed, stuffing her ballet essentials into her bag. She casts me a slightly weary look. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I clear my throat and amble inside. In the years that Michaela has been gone, I’ve avoided her room. I didn’t touch a single thing inside, leaving everything as she last left it. But once in a blue moon, when I missed her a lot, I’d come in and stare out her window and into the backyard, reminiscing on our days with our parents. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” She rubs her eyes. “I’m not in trouble or anything for coming home late, huh?”
I crack a smile. She hasn’t had a curfew since she was eighteen and even before that, despite my overbearingness, she didn’t always adhere to it. Which resulted in a lot of heated conversations with me playing the role of her protector and her, being a rebellious teen. “No. You’re an adult and can come home whenever you please.”
Now she breaks out into a small smile and glances down at her feet. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
“We have,” I say and cross my arms over my chest, leaning against her wall. “I was thinking, if you want?—”
“I’d like to stay here,” she swiftly inserts and my eyes widen. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to move back here while I finish school.”
My throat is tight and I will myself to speak the truth. “Nothing would make me happier, Michaela.”
She perks up, her eyes, the same as my mom, practically glowing. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I palm the back of my neck. “It’ll be nice to have you here. Just like old times.”
She stands up and comes closer. “I…All those years ago? I shouldn’t have left the way I did and never looked back. I was being selfish. I never considered that I was leaving you here, all alone. I just wanted to be independent, you know? And step out from beneath your shadow.” Her head hangs and shame courses through my veins, before it evaporates with her next reassurance. “You didn’t make me feel suffocated, but I just needed space to myself. And the more time we went without talking, the easier it became to avoid you. But I’m old enough now to realize that every sacrifice you made, every time you disciplined me, it was for my own good. I’m sorry it took me this many years to say it.”
“Water under the bridge, Mic. I understand why you left and I’m not mad. I get it. I really do. I hope this time away from home gave you the freedom you needed.” I’m so glad we’re airing out our dirty laundry. Communication with Michaela was never my forte, but I want to try to build a better future for our relationship. “For what it’s worth, it was my first time being a guardian and I didn’t know what I was doing either.”
Her shoulders droop further, like they’re weighed down by guilt. “You were so young yourself when Mom and Dad died,” she mumbles. “You did the best that you could and I want you to know that I’m grateful. My life would have looked a lot different if you’d gone pro and I was being raised by a random relative who wouldn’t have done half the job you did.”
Ah, fuck. Call me a sap because my eyes sting and there’s a prickle in my throat. “C’mere,” I say and open my arms. Michaela rushes into them and hugs me. We haven’t done this since she was a kid and I missed it. “You never have to thank me for that. You’re my family. I’ll always try my best to do right byyou.” I kiss the top of her head. “Things will be different now, okay? The past is in the past.”
“Okay,” she replies against my chest.
Things will be different not only because she’ll be living here, but because I’m going to be with Marlow moving forward. After I speak to the latter and convince her to take a chance on me. “Michaela, I have to come clean about something.”
She gazes at me expectantly, like she’s been anticipating this. “What?”
“I like Marlow and I want to be with her.” Saying it aloud is such a relief.
Michaela’s mouth purses. “Thane, I’m not sure how you’re going to fix this.”
I’m lost. “Fix what?”
She fiddles with her skirt’s pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “Marlow’s not here anymore. She packed her bags and left last night.” She clears her throat. “After you guys came back from the motel.”
There’s a ringing in my ears. I fall back a step. No. I didn’t hear that right. Marlow’s gone? I don’t even have time to feel ashamed that my sister knows about what happened in the motel room. My throat feels like sandpaper as I drag out, “What do you mean, she left?”
Instead of explaining, Michaela unfolds the paper.
It’s a note.
She angles it my way and I snatch it up, instantly recognizing Marlow’s cursive scrawl.
