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“I don’t know.” I pick at a loose thread on the comforter. “I think so, the way he texts me is different, and I think the way he looks at me is different. But what if I’m reading into everything because I want it so badly? What if he’s just being nicer because of all the drama his girlfriend caused lately?”

She’s quiet for a second, then tilts her head. “You haven’t heard anything about the girlfriend recently?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. He hasn’t mentioned her once since the hospital. But he also hasn’t said he broke up with her, and I feel like it would be weird to ask about it.”

Brittney studies me for a long moment. “I think you need to talk to him. Actually talk to him. Not just the polite co-parenting version. Really lay it all out on the table and have some hard conversations.”

I groan, dropping my head into my hands. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Brittney’s voice is gentle but firm, sounding years older than me instead of being my baby sister. “What if he does?”

“Then that’s a whole deeper mess,” I say. “If he has feelings for me, then I have to wonder if he’s always had them—and if they just weren’t enough to make him want to marry me. And then there’s Theo to think about. If Simon and I suddenly got back together, how would that affect him? He’s never known us as anything but apart. He thought it was weird just seeing that old prom photo of us.”

Brittney gives me a look that’s equal parts sympathy and exasperation. “Blaire, Theo will adapt. It sounds like you’re still hurting from him leaving.”

I huff, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “Of course it still hurts. He just left.”

“It was four years ago, Blaire,” she says softly.

“Exactly. Four years, and he’s never once offered me an explanation.” I say stubbornly as I stare down at the faded floral pattern on the comforter, tracing one of the wilted-looking roses with my fingertip.

“Have you ever asked for one?”

I look up, blinking at her, scrambling for some snippy comeback that will save my pride. When nothing comes, I let out an awkward laugh. “Why do you have to be so fucking insightful about this stuff? Go back to being the crazy metalhead who sneaks out with a fake ID.”

Brittney throws her head back and laughs, the sound bright and unrestrained. “Start babysitting your nieces more, and maybe I will.”

We let the silence settle again as I turn her words over in my mind. I don’t want to admit she’s right. I never asked him for an explanation—not really—and the few times I could tell he was willing to give me one, I wasn’t able to hear it. Now that I think I’m willing, I’m terrified his girlfriend will make him unable, or worse, that whatever he says will only confirm what I’ve always feared: that loving me was never enough to make him choose me.

“Are you going to trunk-or-treat with us?” Brittney’s question cuts through the pity party I was about to throw myself.

“No.” I shake my head, forcing myself to take a steady breath. “Jamie and I are going out for drinks. She’s helping me drown my feelings while both our kids get sugar-high with the grandparents.”

Brittney groans. “No fair. I want to join. Mason’s been a real pain in my ass lately.”

It’s my turn to laugh at her misery. “Still pushing for another baby?”

“Yes!” She throws her hands up. “He’s ridiculous. First of all, it’s hard to make a baby when he’s on tour eight months out of the year. Secondly, I’m already struggling to raise the two we have—alone, I might add.”

“Is he ever going to settle down on the touring thing?”

Mason’s band is good—really good. They book solid gigs and make enough money that Brittney and the girls could easily have their own place in a nice neighborhood and she’d never have to work a day. But it’s the reality of doing it all by herself that keeps her from leaving our parents.

She sighs. “When he’s home he swears he’s done, that we can live off royalties and be together with the kids full time, but then the guys call with another gig and he’s packing again. It’s hard on the girls, too. He gets offended when Addie acts shy around him, like she’s supposed to know him. She’s three, and he’s only spent maybe six nonconsecutive months with her total. Of course she doesn’t know him.”

Brittney takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I’m glad he’s chasing his dream. It’s just hard always coming second to it.”

I reach over and pull her into a sympathetic hug. I get it. I remember feeling the same way when Simon first joined the army. He thrived there—moved up fast, got transferred constantly. It made me proud to see him finally doing something that gave him purpose, but it was still hard staying behind and wondering if I’d ever be a priority again. Harder when I asked if we could get married so I could move with him and his first reaction was to break up. Hardest of all when he stepped up for Theo and proved he was always capable of putting someone he loved above everything else—even his career.

Fuck I really need a drink.

“Girls! You in there?” Our dad raps his knuckles against the bedroom door. “Kids are getting antsy.”

“Coming!” I call back. I give Brittney one last squeeze before standing and heading for the door.

“Theo! Let’s get you changed into your costume.” I grab his backpack from where I left it by the front door.

He’s been talking about this costume for weeks—a little soldier, just like Daddy. Simon gave me a couple of his old patches so I could swap out the cheap store-bought ones. Theo’s eyes light up the second I pull the uniform from the bag. He bounces on his toes while I help him into it.