Sylas coughs and looks over at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it. I guess I’ll get the conversational ball rolling.
“I thought I was going to hear from you this week,” I say. I want to ask him what he’s been doing with himself, but I don’t really have a valid claim on that information. Not anymore.
“Well, my plan to move was changed, so I had to regroup.” Meaning his team also had to regroup. I assume they’ve all come back and he’s told them what happened with me and Dad and everything. I wonder if he’s told them about Lizzy.
“And?” I ask, prompting him for more.
“And nothing. I’m here. I’m not leaving.” He seems pissed.
“Are you mad at me?”
A laugh that’s part-bark escapes his mouth.
“Why would I be mad at you, Saige?” The bitter edge in his voice is back. Great.
“Look, you don’t have to be an asshole. This isn’t fun for me either.”
His hands tighten on the steering wheel and I start fiddling with my septum ring.
“I’m never going to forgive you for what you did,” he says, and the words hit me. Hard.
“I know,” I say.
More silence. It’s never been so hard to talk to him. I decide to change tactics.
“What happened to her? To Lizzy?” I say. I expect him to get mad, but he doesn’t. His shoulders relax just a tiny bit. I’ve found a safer topic, it appears.
“She was born that way. She just thinks differently from other people. And she’ll never really be able to live on her own. It takes her much longer to learn things, so it’s just not safe. But she’s happy where she is. I made sure it was a good facility and they take good care of her. She has friends and does activities and they take her to the aquarium and to movies. I wish I could see her more than I get to.” He’s been her only caretaker for years and I totally understand that he’d want to protect her.
“I didn’t know. About her. Not until he told me,” I say, answering his unasked question.
“When did he tell you?” he asks, his voice flat. I know he wants to know.
“Just a few weeks ago. I… I didn’t know what to say. I was pissed at first. That he never told me I had a sister. I lived my whole life without knowing about her.” I was pissed when he told me. Seriously pissed. I got upset and “threw a tantrum” as my mother would say. Really it was just me yelling a lot and breaking a few things. I wish I could blame my temper on my hair, but it’s not wholly responsible for my actions.
“I know you’re not happy about me being here, but I really appreciate you letting me come.” I touch his hand where it rests on the shifter. He doesn’t flinch and I move my hand so it’s lying on top of his. My nails are covered in chipping black polish. Normally I take more care with my nails, but I’ve been a little distracted lately.
“Were you ever a college student?” he asks and I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to ask. “You promised to be honest with me.”
I squeeze his hand just a little.
“Yes, I am a college student studying art history. And yes, my father isn’t that happy about it. I work with him when I can. More now that I’m not—” I cut myself off.
“Conning me,” he finishes for me. I nod.
“I wish there was a Hallmark card I could give you, but I don’t think there’s one for this particular situation,” I say, trying to make a joke. He doesn’t even crack a smile.
“I don’t need a card. I just need… I don’t know. Time. Space. Room to think.” Away from me, I assume.
“Sure,” I say.
The rest of the trip is relatively silent. We’re both busy with thinking our separate thoughts. But I keep my hand on his the whole time.
Seven
He parks in front of the Center and I get out tentatively. It has the feel of a small apartment complex and there are pretty flowers in large pots lining the walkway and lots of bright art hung in the windows.
It looks nice here. Not what I would have thought, but he did tell me that this was a good place.
We both have to check in at the front desk. Sylas must have called them and added my name to the list of visitors because they knew I was coming with him. We’re both handed the requisite visitor badges and affix them to our shirts.
“You were right, it is really nice here,” I say as we walk past one of the activity rooms where some of the residents are standing at easels and painting with large brushes and tubs of bright, bold paint. There’s a nice energy in here and everything is bright and fun and colorful.
“Her room is this way,” he says, leading me down the hall.
Lizzy’s door is partially open, but he knocks before we go in. I take a deep breath and then there she is. The minute she sees Sylas, she beams, but when she sees me standing behind him, she squeals and then I’m engulfed in a hug. Lizzy is taller than me, and I nearly lose my breath.
“New sister,” she says in my ear as we rock back and forth. “New sister.”
“It’s nice to see you again,” I try to say, but my voice is muffled against Lizzy’s chest. I can’t see Sylas to know what his reaction is.
“Hey, Lizzy, how about you let your new sister breathe, okay?” Lizzy lets go, but grabs my hand and then Sylas’ and hauls us both into the room. She’s a wiry thing, but she’s stronger than she looks.
Sylas and I almost crash into each other so we don’t lose our balance.
“Whoa, be careful, Lizzy,” he says, but she just keeps dragging us across the room to her bed.
“Sit,” she commands me and I look at Sylas warily.
“What are you up to, Sister?” he asks as I sit on the bed. Sylas sits next to me and he’s definitely a little on edge.
Lizzy sighs as if we’re being dumb on purpose.
“I want to give you your presents.” The “duh” is left unsaid.
“Presents?” I ask.
Lizzy skips over to her dresser and pulls open the top drawer, fiddles around under her socks and then comes out with two items wrapped in tissue paper.
I take the one wrapped in red and Sylas takes the one wrapped in blue.
“Should we open them?” I ask.
“Uh-huh,” she says, and she’s so excited, she’s bouncing on her heels. I share one more look with Sylas and then we both open our presents. I have no idea what this could be. I just didn’t expect this. I feel like a jerk for not bringing her something. I should have brought her something.
“Oh,” I say when I get the paper off. A hand-painted picture frame is revealed, with a drawing in it that is clearly of me. She got the red hair and the green eyes perfect. Sylas’ is also a drawing, but of him this time. He’s smiling bigger than he probably ever has in his life, but other than that, it’s definitely him. She even got some of the tattoos on his arm.
Sylas looks up at Lizzy and gives her a hug. I’m not sure what to do. I feel like an intruder, which was my worst fear when I agreed to come.
“Thank you so much, Lizzy. It’s beautiful. I’m going to put it right on the wall in my new apartment.” He kisses her forehead and she hugs him hard.
“Love you, Brother.”
“Love you, Sister.”
“I’ll eat you up, I love you so,” she says to him and I have to look down to hide the tears in my eyes. They just love each other so much. I run my finger around the edge of the frame and wonder just how I got here, to this point in my life. All the twists and turns that somehow brought me to this room with a half-sister I never knew existed and in love with her brother.
“Are you okay?” Sylas asks, and I look up.
“Yeah,” I say, using one hand to brush the tears off my face. “Thank you, Lizzy. Thank you.”
Lizzy doesn’t say anything, just sits next to me on the bed and holds my face. It’s very intense, but I don’t move. I stare into her wide blue eyes and find so much in them. Her thumbs brush away my tears and then she leans forward, putting her forehead against mine.
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“You’re welcome, my new sister.” I’m completely and utterly stunned.
“I always wanted a sister,” I whisper.
“Me too,” Lizzy says and then she smiles. I can’t help but smile with her and then we start laughing, our voices mingling together and sounding eerily similar.
Lizzy takes me on a tour of the Center, and won’t let go of my arm as she introduces me to everyone. She’s so happy and it’s infectious. My apprehension is gone and I don’t remember the last time I felt this light. Sylas walks behind us, giving us space, but I can feel him watching the two of us. I want to ask him what he thinks, what’s going on in his head, but we have the whole drive back for that. Right now I’m all about my new sister.
It turns out we love a lot of the same books. Sylas even bought her a bunch of the Harry Potter books after I told him to read them. The gesture makes me smile. I can’t seem to stop smiling. My cheeks hurt.
Lizzy doesn’t ask about “the man” as she calls our dad, but she is wearing the charm bracelet he sent her. I’ve got mine on and they clink together as we hold hands.
By the time we need to leave, I’ve promised to video chat with her at least once a week, and I’ve promised to come back next week and every week after that, forever. It’s impossible to say no to Lizzy.
“Sisters forever,” Lizzy says as she gives me a hug goodbye.
“Sisters forever,” I repeat.
The minute the car door shuts and Sylas starts driving, I break down. Just absolutely lose it. The sobs overtake my body and I’m making this awful sound. Sylas slows the car and pulls over to the side of the road.
And then his arms are around me and he’s whispering nonsense in my ear and all I want is for him to hold me like this forever. His arms are warm and strong around me and I hold onto him so I don’t fly away.
I don’t even know why I’m crying.
Finally my shaking subsides and I can breathe normally. Peeling my head off his tear-soaked chest, I look up into his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks, smoothing my hair back. I must be an absolute mess.
I can’t seem to find any words to say but two.
“Kiss me.”
His jaw tightens and he seems to think it over before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine.
His taste mingles with the salt from my tears and I hold onto his face, desperate. I’m just so scared of losing him. Of him leaving my life.
Little sounds of desperation escape my mouth as we kiss, but he’s holding back. Keeping himself safe. I don’t blame him, but oh, I want him. I want him the way we used to be. Before we both fucked everything up. I guess we were really fucked up to begin with. We never would have met if it weren’t for Lizzy. Who knew something like this would come out of one night of my father and their mother.
I bite onto his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t break the kiss. The coppery taste is heavy on my tongue and I pull back.
I want to tell him I love him. Tell him that it wasn’t a lie when I said it. Tell him that I wish I could take it all back. Hit Rewind and erase all the lies and the deceptions.
“Thank you for bringing me,” I say instead as a tiny drop of blood wells on his bottom lip. He licks it away and lets me go.
“You’re welcome.”
The ride back is entirely silent, except for the radio. Sylas can’t seem to choose a station and it’s annoying. I want to reach out and stop his hand from pushing buttons and turning the dial and messing with the bass and volume.
He only stops doing it when we pull up in front of my apartment.
“Thank you again,” I say. Things are so awkward between us and I hate it. I could kiss him again, but that’s not going to solve anything. We could fuck each other over and over and it wouldn’t solve anything. It’s going to take more than our physical chemistry to get us past this point and talking again.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask, hating the way my voice sounds. Tentative and a little whiny. I hate feeling this way with him. I want to be confident and in-control again.
He starts to shake his head, but then turns and looks at me. His bottom lip is still red.
“Just to talk,” he says. “Nothing else.” He’s also a shadow of his former self. The man who said he wanted to fuck me on our first date is gone and I’m left with this stone-faced, quiet person I don’t know how to handle.
“Yeah, sure. Just to talk,” I echo and we both get out.
Eight
He sits on the couch and I get us both glasses of water. I briefly consider grabbing some alcohol, but that probably isn’t the best idea. If we drink, we’re going to get naked. It’s inevitable.
I hand him the sweating glass and he takes it with a nod.
“I hate this,” I say, shattering the silence. “I hate how we are now. I really hate it.” I pull my knees up and rest my chin on them.
He sets his water glass down on one of my coasters that’s shaped like a red heart and turns to face me.
“I hate it too.”
Good. We’ve agreed on something. That’s a start.
“Do you think it’s possible for us to start over? Go from square one?” I ask, and his mouth tightens into a line.
“I honestly don’t know, Saige. I appreciate you wanting to be honest with me from here on out, but that’s not enough. It’s not enough to undo what we did to each other.” At least he isn’t putting the blame solely in my hands.
“Then what is?” I say, picking up my water. My throat is so dry. I’m also starving. I haven’t eaten all day.
He rubs his eyes with one hand and takes another sip of water.
“That’s another question I can’t answer.”
“So we’re stuck. Like this. Forever,” I say.
He shrugs.
“Don’t you care? I know you at least miss having sex with me.”
“Saige, I…” He can’t seem to finish his thought.
“Even if you don’t want to have sex with me, we’re still connected. We’ll always be connected. By Lizzy.” I hate using this against him, but it’s the only card I have to play.
His eyes narrow at the mention of Lizzy.
“I know you want to protect her, but I’m not here to… get something out of her. As soon as I found out I had a sister, I wanted to get to know her. And Dad has spent forever waiting.” I probably shouldn’t bring him up, but he’s part of this too.
“I don’t trust your father,” he says. Does that mean he trusts me?
“I know. I don’t blame you. But about Lizzy, his motives are pure. Everything he’s done has been for her. Because of her.” I lean toward him and he doesn’t move away.
“I want to believe you, Saige. If you don’t know anything else, know that. That I want to believe you. It’s been just me and Lizzy for so long and to know that she has other family? A new sister she adores? It’s almost a miracle.” I let a breath out and the tightness in my chest lets up. Just a tiny bit. We’re making progress. Little, bitty, tiny steps.
“But I’m not willing to take risks where Lizzy is concerned.” I knew there was a “but” coming.
“I understand. But please, just think about it. For me?” I’m throwing everything I can into this.
He’s still for a long time and then his face softens.
“I’ll try.”
I can’t help but smile.
“That’s all I ask,” I say.
Thinking we should do something not quite so intense, I suggest we watch a movie. I have mounds of homework I should be doing, but I know I’m not going to be able to focus on it right now. My brain has too much else going on.
“How about Rear Window? I’ll watch it without any commentary,” I say, knowing that it’s his favorite Hitchcock film. Vertigo is most definitely better, but I’ll let this slide. Once.
The movie suggestion makes him almost smile. Close enough.
I put it in and go to make popcorn. I make that the way he likes it as
well, with not too much butter and a lot of salt.
We sit close to each other on the couch, but the distance between us feels endless. He’s on one side of the Grand Canyon and I’m on the other.
And then, as if we’re in a movie, our hands collide in the popcorn bowl. As if fate engineered it. He pulls back first, but I grab his hand, which is a little slick from the butter.
“Do you believe in fate?” I ask him for the second time. The last time I asked, he told me he did. Something tells me the answer is going to be different this time.
Sylas looks down at our joined hands and then up into my eyes.
“No. No, I don’t.”
I nod and let go of his hand.
“That’s what I thought. I didn’t believe you the first time.” I didn’t believe a whole lot of what he said, but there were moments of pure truth and clarity.
“You didn’t?” He looks away from the movie.
“No. I pretty much assumed everything you said was a lie,” I say and he actually flinches.
“Does that bother you?” I say and he shakes his head.
“No.”
“Liar,” I say.
He sighs and goes back to the movie.
“I didn’t lie to you about everything,” he says, keeping his eyes on the screen.
“I know,” I say. “I didn’t lie to you about everything either.”
I didn’t lie to him all those times I told him that I loved him. When I told him that I didn’t know if I loved him, that was a lie. It’s the one I regret the most.
“There are more things you don’t know,” I say. I know I’m not supposed to talk to him about this, but I can’t hold it back anymore.
“What things?” he asks. It’s like he can’t look at me while he talks to me. I wish he would.
“I’m not supposed to tell you. Dad wants to talk to you.” At the mention of my father, he stiffens.
“About what?” His voice goes hard again.