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West returns with the coffee, and places the mugs on the low table. “Whatcha doing?” He shoots me a wary look.
“Who’s Adela Jackson?”
He sinks down on the sofa, legs spread, hands hanging between them. “Della. My sister.”
“Huh. So why do you two and your grandfather have a different surname?” I go to sit beside him but make no move to take my mug. “Why Black?”
“I dunno. They never told me.”
How can he not know? Why wouldn’t they tell him? This is all so weird, but I force myself not to ask, not to push and have him clam up. I try for small talk. “Horse riding, huh? Why did she stop competing? It looks like she was really into it.”
“I happened. Ruined her life.”
God. “What do you mean? She’s your sister, not your mom. Not that you’d ruin your mom’s life. West…”
“She and Grandpa had to take care of me. Gave up everything for me.”
“What’s everything exactly? I bet you were a cute kid.” I wink.
He doesn’t smile. “I was a difficult kid. A nuisance. They hated me. Still do.”
My heart clenches. “West. What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing. Where is your dad?”
“I dunno, it doesn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter?”
“Just leave it, Syd. Please. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He sighs. “Why are you really here?”
“Because I care about you.”
And that is a truth I can’t deny, even when he snorts and shakes his head and says, “Yeah right. Whatever.”
How do I make him see?
Chapter Twenty-Two
West
I care about you…
I don’t know why I invited her over. Can’t really remember. I sleep worse than ever these days, and insomnia is fucking with my head. Maybe I wanted to pretend everything was the way it’d been, that everything’s okay.
But it’s not.
“You don’t believe me,” she whispers, sadness clouding her bright eyes.
Fuck, I wish I could. I put my mug down on the coaster, carefully, centering it just right. “You’re with Nate and Kash now. You don’t need me.”
“What are you talking about?” She reaches for me, and I straighten, pulling away. “Of course I need you. We’re friends. Nothing’s changed.”
“Everything’s changed,” I snap, and then I hear myself whisper, “You’re not here anymore.”
Holy shit. What’s wrong with me? Sometimes I think I’m as bitter as Grandpa. I should be happy for her. For all of them.
