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“The drunk dial was a one-off. I don’t even remember the conversation. My phone said I was on it for twelve minutes. Twelve. I have no idea what I said or who I even spoke to.”
“Maybe she changed her number,” Dave offered helpfully.
André licked his lips. “I thought of that.”
“But if you ask and her number is different, then she’d know you had called,” Dave guessed.
“Right. See? You get me.” He lifted his eyebrows at Sabine. “He gets me.”
Dave nodded knowingly.
Sabine glared at the two of them. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re aroundnow.You could just fade into the background of her life again and no one would even care.”
André winced at her words. Which was unexpected. What she’d said was correct, of course. But it hurt like hell to hear.
After a beat he looked up and his gaze collided with his sister’s. She was watching him in that way she did. With way more insight than someone her age should have.
It made him want to run away.
Both of them had kind of had to raise themselves. Separated when they were in primary school, André had been taken to England to live with his father. Sabine stayed in America with their mother.
Both of them had shit parents. He had wondered many times over the years if they had been raised together, if it would have been better than it was being apart. They had no way of knowing.
He only had a small understanding of what Sabine had gone through when their mother had decided to pursue a life of white-collar crime. Sabine had not only had to be her own parent but also had to fight for her own identity in more ways than one.
André’s experience was limited to a cold and distant father with impossible expectations whose most stable relationship was with football.
As soon as André was able to move back to the States to be closer to his sister, he did.
But it had taken him a lot longer to leave emotionally.
“What happened?”
André glanced at Dave and tried to buy time by taking a long drink.
“You mean with the engagement?” he clarified, knowing exactly what Dave was asking but still not wanting to answer.
Or maybe he just didn’t have an answer.
“Did you fight or something?” Dave prodded.
André’s gaze darted to Sabine who was reading his soul again. “Or something,” he mumbled and took another drink of his cider.
Sabine crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip.
“You got freaked out,” she said.
André paused, held the cider in his mouth a beat, then swallowed.
“Something freaked you out and you ran away. It’s your move.”
André nodded once and pursed his lips. Itwashis move. He’d run away from home as soon as he’d gotten the chance.
“It was also Dad’s move,” she stated, unimpressed.
André paused in body and mind and stared at his sister. Small in stature and younger in age but with the self-assurance of a honey badger.
She probably got that from their mom.
