I hug her back even tighter.
I don’t want to breathe.
I just want—to not be alone.
“Will you always love me even when I don’t deserve it?” I ask her as the tears start all over again.
“You always deserve it.” She kisses my head. “All of us always deserve it.”
It was just a month ago that she was crying in my arms and pouring her heart out while I brought her home from the road trip where she fell in love with Oliver, and now here we are, with me crying in her arms.
The last time I cried like this?
Never.
Merriweather-Browns are business people. We keep our emotions locked up tight. The world is watching at all times.
But the world wasn’t watching me the past two weeks.
The world hasn’t seen my secrets the past four years.
And here—here, I know I’m safe to let it all go.
Because even though she shouldn’t, my sister loves me.
She hugs me tight while I cry myself out, and once I’m almost under control, the scent of bacon tickles my nose.
“I brought help,” Daph says. “Bea and Oliver are cooking breakfast.”
And I break into sobs all over again.
“Hey, Margot,” Bea calls from the general direction of the kitchen. “I love your stove. This griddle is perfect for pancakes.”
“We didn’t want Daphne coming to the city unchaperoned,” Oliver adds. “We’re not listening to a thing though.”
“Unless you want us to,” Bea agrees.
“We all love you and won’t judge,” Daph says. “But they’ll leave if you want them to. They won’t go far because they don’t trust me?—”
“She might stow away in some random person’s car again,” Oliver says.
“Or lead the wrong kind of protest,” Bea says.
“Or try to rescue the polar bears from the zoo,” Oliver continues.
Bea makes a thoughtful noise. “Does the zoo here have polar bears?”
“You’re Daphne’s best friend, and you don’t know if the zoo has polar bears?”
“She forbade me from acknowledging the city exists. Being here with her is new territory, and I forget what I’m supposed to know and not know.”
Listening to them is oddly normal, like they’ve been doing this for years instead of only getting to know each other for the past few weeks.
And it’s comforting.
Like life will go on after my broken heart stitches itself back together.
As much as I’ll let it, anyway.
