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She sighs. “You need to reach out to Lila. She’s worried about you.”
Ice lines my gut, painful and paralyzing. “How do you know Lila is worried about me?”
“She called me,” my mother says. “She said she was concerned because you weren't responding to her.”
The thought of my mother and Lila talking is enough to have me sitting upright. “What did you tell her?” I ask, needing to know what Lila knows.
“Nothing, I swear.” For the first time in my life, I believe my mother. “Call her.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I say before ending the call.
I toss my phone onto the coffee table and plant my elbows on my knees. Lowering my head, I run my hands through my hair. This whole situation is a mess, and I have no idea how to fix any of it. I should never have come home. I want to escape back into my dreams. But the stress is even invading my sleeping brain.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, and I stand up to go answer it. I pull the door open to Alex’s angry face. He lunges forward with a fist up as if to hit me, but nearly topples off his crutches.
“Whoa, easy there,” I say, catching him, and helping him in to sit on the couch.
“Why don’t we try talking about it,” I say as he glares at me. “Because I don’t think I can beat up a guy on crutches.”
“Good, I’d win then,” he says in a tight, furious voice.
I nod my head. He’s not wrong.
“You're doing it again. You're hurting my sister.” As he says the words, his fists ball up again and I watch him, wondering if he’s going to try and hit me again. I probably deserve it.
“I'm not trying to hurt her,” I say, holding up my hands in a universal gesture of surrender. “I care about her. Things are just complicated right now.” Talk about the understatement of the century.
“Complicated how?” His eyes narrow.
“I can't really answer that.”
“Does it have something to do with your fake proposal and fake engagement?” Even though he's dead on, I can't help but feel like this is a guess because I trust Lila not to say a word... even to her twin brother.
“Is that what she's telling you?” I ask, trying to cast doubt in his mind. He lets out a sigh and scans the room before his gaze meets mine again.
“No, it isn't. But I know that this isn't real.” He presses his hands to his thighs before continuing. “When you left before, you almost destroyed her. There's no way she would willingly get back together with you after what she went through.”
Why does everybody keep telling me that?
“I know she's worried about me and I was about ready to call her.” I nod toward the front door. “Until a visitor showed up, of course.”
He's still eyeing me as if he doesn't believe a word coming out of my mouth, and it's hard to fault him for that.
“You still didn't tell me how it's complicated.”
“I did.” I know he’s going to push, and I’m struggling to decide if I should budge on this one.
“Saying that you can't talk about it isn't an answer.” He shifts in his seat as if trying to get comfortable.
“The most I can tell you is that I’ve been dealing with things.” With my elbows on my knees, I lean forward, rubbing my hands together and watching the movement. None of this feels real.
“What kind of things?” Despite his still narrowed eyes, he sounds less suspicious.
“Family stuff. And that is all I can tell you.” I glance up at him and he nods his head, as if accepting my answer.
“I'm sorry about your father.”
“I wasn't, but I am now.” At my response, he lifts both shoulders.
