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“But you do in New York?” Something else fills her eyes, but I can’t place it.
“Mostly,” I say.
“I guess I can’t argue,” she says. “I love to be around my sister. Because she’s my sister. And because she’s bright and vibrant.”
“You’re a good sister.”
“Sometimes,” she says. “Do you still feel that? The desire to be with someone like her?”
“No, but she’s attached to these ideas. Visions of a different life, the life I could have had if I’d grown up with Grandma. If I was a different person. If I wanted different things. But I’m not. I don’t want different things. I want to be with you,” I say. “Not anyone else. You. I meant it. I’d be heartbroken if this ended.”
“Unless you break mine first,” she says.
“I wouldn’t forgive myself.” I don’t know what to say, so I reach for her. My fingers brush hers.
She stirs, but she doesn’t move.
“Do you ever fantasize like that?” I ask. “A different version of you?”
“Sometimes,” she says. “I would make a great Dr. Ian Malcolm. You know, Jeff Goldblum’s character inJurassic Park? I’d rock the leather jacket and the sex symbol status. And chaos theory—I love the idea of it, even though it scares me. Because it scares me.”
“Do you want that life?”
“No. There are a little too many T. rexes in that one.”
I snort out a laugh, and it eases the tension in the air. “A T. rex–free vision?”
“I would make a great sex symbol.” A teasing tone returns to her voice.
She’s okay.
We’re okay.
For now, at least.
“Sometimes, I wonder how my life would be different if I’d gone to a different school,” she says. “Started a different company.”
“Does that mean you don’t want the life you have?”
“No,” she admits. “And you never want that life, that fantasy?”
“Not often.”
She looks me over carefully. “Well…if you mean it, if you really are over her, then I could use your help.”
Huh?
“Lexi could, actually. She loves this guy. At least, I’m pretty sure she does, but she doesn’t have a vision of romance the way you do. And she needs that. She needs the veils blowing in the wind and whatever else romance is for her. But I understand…if you don’t want to do it.”
“No. I do.”
“You want to help my sister see her future with another guy?” she asks.
“See the future that’s right for her. It might not be this guy, though.”
“Okay,” she says. “I trust you.”
“You do?”
