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“That’s not fair, Sly.” Her jaw tenses, and I see her nostrils flare. “You should have told me.”

“Really?” I huff a laugh. “You’ve made it clear this entire time that you don’t like me, and I don’t mean anything to you. Now, you suddenly care? I tried to talk to you the other night, and you said you weren’t in the mood.”

Her lips part in shock, and I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I don’t know how I expected taking my sister’s advice to go, but it wasn’t like this. I shouldn’t be antagonizing her, but I want to be anywhere else right now. Feeling like there’s a part of her that still cares about me enough to hurt is too much for me to bear.

“Look, I’m going to go change.” I finish putting my leg on and stand up. “Like you said, let’s just have fun while this lasts. If you still mean that, you know how to find me.”

I grab my bag and head to the door, even though every step kills me. I might not be in physical pain, but my heart aches at the thought of ever choosing to walk away from her again.

I stop at the door and almost turn back, right as Sisi walks through it carrying bags of snacks. She looks at me and must see the tension oozing off me because her eyes immediately flit to Josie, still sitting next to the pool.

“What did you do?” she asks.

“Great fucking advice,” I grumble, storming right past my sister into my parents’ house.

With each step I take inside the house, I want to turn back, but I’m too agitated, and there’s a high probability that I’ll make things worse than I already have.

CHAPTER 29

JOSIE

Alone

The screen door slams shut behind Sly, and I nearly jump at the sound. I’m lost in a whirlwind of overwhelming thoughts and emotions.

My heart reels for Sly.

I know I tell people that Sisi was my best friend growing up, and that Grace is now. The only reason either of them has that title is because Sly was more than that.

He wasn’t just my boyfriend.

Sly was my person.

We didn’t keep secrets from each other. We knew everything about each other. We might’ve been a bit codependent, but that’s what we wanted. We craved each other’s company, not just physically, but emotionally too. He was the calming presence that never tried to tame my wild side but helped keep it focused and directed. I was the spark he needed to get out of his shell—not by prodding him—but by being interested in the things he enjoyed. Combined with giving him time, he eventually opened up to me.

That’s what made him leaving me so hard years ago, and right now, threatens to crack open the ragged scar tissue that eventually sealed my heart shut when I finally got over him—or so I told myself.

As much as I want to hang onto the resentment I’ve felt towards him for so long and be angry at him, tears well in the corner of my eyes at the thought of him going through that—alone.

Five years ago.

My mind plays that number in my head over and over.

His brothers were long gone, and so was I. He might have had Sisi and his parents, but I know he always struggled opening up with them. He wasn’t a loner, but he was so quiet and liked to keep to himself, never wanting to be a burden to anyone. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for him to suddenly be the center of his family’s attention or reliant on anyone else—no matter how short-lived it was.

I wish he had someone there who truly saw him. Maybe it’s selfish, but some part of me—one I’ve tried to hide away—wishes it was me. The thought of him being hurt like that and enduring the grueling recovery alone makes my stomach queasy.

Thankfully, the sound of the chair scraping against the concrete pulls me from my spiral. I look to find Sisi’s kind eyes waiting for me from where I’m still sitting on Sly’s other towel.

She looks at the kitchen door and then back down at me.

“I’m guessing you found out about his accident?”

I nod, still trying to process how I didn’t pick up on this over the last two-and-a-half, almost three, weeks. I try to think of how I missed it, running through every interaction with him. As much as I try to picture what he was wearing, the images that work their way into my mind are of his smile, his dimples that I finally got to see again tonight, or those soft, sad blue eyes that only make me feel worse now.

“Don’t feel bad,” Sisi says, her voice lacking its normal spark. “We might not have seen each other for ten years, but I still know you, Josie Hare. You’re spiraling because you still care about him, but don’t feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad?” I finally look up at her.