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I sit down beside her and reach out to touch her hand, but she pulls away from my touch.
“She came back because of you.” She sounds hurt and upset all at once.
“No, she came back because of you. I told her that she’ll regret losing her family and told her that she’s selfish for running away like that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me where she was? Why wouldn't you want to keep all of us from worrying so much?” She’s back to sounding tired again, and before I can respond, she speaks again, lifting a hand. “Never mind. It doesn't matter.” Without warning, she grabs a mini trash can and begins heaving.
“I’m sorry, I know it was stressful,” I say, hating that there were no good options for me in that whole situation. Honesty might be the best policy, but what could I do? “I should have told you.” With careful hands, I gather her hair and hold it back as she gags. Her whole body is trembling, and I feel more awful.
“You should have left when I told you to,” she says between gags.
“I couldn't leave things like that,” I say. “I do care, Lila. Even when I make the stupidest choices, I do care.”
“Could have fooled me,” she whispers, spitting into the trash.
“All done?” I ask, and she nods.
“I think so.”
I get up and leave the room, making my way to the bathroom first, where I run a washcloth under cool water. And then I head into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before taking them both to her room. I can feel questioning eyes following me, but right now my focus is Lila.
I push open her door and step inside, taking in the sight of her curled up on the bed, her back turned to me. With quick steps, I make my way to her, cracking open the water before offering her the bottle. I also offer the damp cloth, and she takes that first, wiping her mouth before taking the water.
She swishes some around her mouth and spits it into the trash can before taking little sips. Without a word, I grab the trashcan and take it out to the kitchen. Dumping the contents right down the garbage disposal, I rinse the plastic, then add soap and scrub the insides until no trace of the smell of vomit remains.
And I take the clean can back to her room and put it back where it belongs.
“Thanks.” She doesn't sound all that thankful, and I can’t blame her.
“Can I explain?” I ask.
“Explain what, Fredrick?” she asks, her voice flat.
“I know I messed up, and I'm sorry,” I say, moving toward her.
“Sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Fredrick,” she says, her gaze meeting mine. Her eyes are red from crying and being sick, but it’s the pain and hurt that really dig into me.
“I know I've messed up, but there’s a reason-”
“I’m not interested in your reasons,” she says, cutting me off before I can finish. “There’s nothing you can say that makes this forgivable.”
She looks away from me, her eyes filled with tears once again. For a moment, she stares around the room, and I watch her, hoping I'm not losing her.
“I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses or reasons,” she says so softly I wonder if she means for me to hear her or not.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lila
I stare at the wall of my bedroom, trying to make sense of everything I feel and what has happened. Fredrick sits beside me, his hand resting on my thigh. His touch used to bring me comfort, but now I just feel numb.
“Can we talk about it, Lila?” he asks, his voice soft.
“There's nothing left to say,” I say, my unseeing gaze still fixed on the wall.
“Can you tell me what you're thinking?”
I turn to him finally, meeting his gaze. “I'm thinking that you're a liar and a coward. You could have told me that Emma was safe, but you chose to keep it from me instead. Why?”
