Page 13 of What Goes Around

I didn’t answer. I just stared at the IV drip, watching the slow, rhythmic fall of saline into my vein.

She sighed. “Your father wanted to come, but he had to go straight to the office. They had some sort of emergency at the company.”

There was always some other emergency when it came to me.

“He did text, though,” she added, digging into her bag and holding up her phone.

“See? ‘Get well soon, Ash. – Dad.’”

I almost laughed, but it came out as a weak breath. “Touching.”

“He means well,” she said quickly, as if defending him. “You know how busy he is. We just got back from Marbella yesterday and the flight was exhausting.”

“Right,” I murmured. “Four weeks on the beach. Must’ve been rough.”

Her lips thinned, and she pulled the chair closer to the bed, smoothing her skirt before sitting.

“Ashley, you know we would’ve come back sooner if we could, but we had business meetings planned in advance. I know things have been… difficult for you. But honestly, you bring a lot of this on yourself. You make rash decisions, you get involved with the wrong people, and now look where it’s led you.”

Her words stung, but I didn’t have the energy to fight. I’d heard versions of that speech my entire life. Apple was the golden child, the one who could do no wrong. I was the disappointment they tolerated because they had to.

I wanted to tell her that I’d lost a baby, her grandchild. But what was the point? She’d only see it as another “mistake.”

She went on. “You should really take some time to reflect, dear. All this drama with Nick and that poor girl’s death… it’s no wonder people are talking.”

Her phone buzzed just then. She glanced down, then her perfectly groomed brows lifted. “Oh,” she said softly, “would you look at that.”

Something in her voice made me look.

She turned the screen toward me, a post from a local gossip page.

“Nick Reynolds and Apple Richards spotted leaving the downtown hotel early this morning.”

The photos hit me like a physical blow.

Apple, smiling, shy, her cheeks pink like she’d just won the damn lottery. Nick beside her, jaw tight, looking exhausted, glaring at the camera.

The comments below were a feeding frenzy.

“Apple always had class. Maybe Nick realized he picked the wrong sister.”

“Guess Nick finally found the right sister.”

“Looks like someone’s keeping it in the family. #scandal”

When my mother saw me scrolling, she just sighed through her nose.

“Don’t get worked up over online nonsense. People talk. They always have.”

“Online nonsense?” My voice broke halfway through. “That’s my sister, Mom. My boyfriend. They slept together and everyone knows it!”

She sighed again. “Ashley, please. You’re not still hung up on Nick, are you? These things happen. People grow apart. Life moves on.”

“Life moves on?” I repeated, the words like acid on my tongue. “Apple is a boyfriend-stealing slut, and you’re acting like it’s nothing!”

“Language,” she snapped automatically, then softened her tone as if soothing a child. “Apple’s been through so much in the past, Ashley and she lost her friend. She’s grieving too. Maybe she just… needed comfort.”

I laughed. A sharp, humorless sound. “Comfort? From him? From the man I was supposed to marry?”