Maybe… and maybe that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
“It doesn’t matter,” I croaked. “Theo’s gone.”
Gemma rolled on her side, catching a strand of my hair and twirling it between her fingers.
“What if he came back and was all like”—Gemma lowered her voice, sounding like a caricature of a tough guy—“‘Babe, I made a mistake. Take me back?’”
“That impression is on the money, Gem.”
She paused, looking up at me. “You haven’t called me Gem in years.”
Weird, I hadn’t. The old name just slipped out.
I brushed past it.
“Theo and I are old tape. We come together, we fall apart fast.”
“Orrr…” She stretched out the word, taking a swig of tequila. “You’re two points of a rubber band, like… a…” She slammed her hand on her nightstand, rooting around until she found a bracelet, then she stretched it out, emphasizing her point.
“A bracelet! You come together, stretch apart, come together—but you’re always connected.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Since when are you this poetic?”
“I’ve always been this way.” She yawned. “You were too up your own ass to notice.”
I exhaled.
Maybe.
I closed my eyes, but Theo’s wicked grin from the week before slammed into me. The feel of his hands on my body, his warm breath at my ear, and suddenly it was like he was in the room. Most importantly, I heard him again, forcing me to promise never to love him, or anyone else.
He’d made a promise with my sister that day, too, and the truth was wrapped up in that promise. Maybe it would explain why all of this happened. It could alleviate this brutal pain and take us back to before. Or, more than likely, what was left of my brittle wire would crumble.
I lifted my wrist, staring at the bare skin.
“Bracelets can snap,” I whispered.
But Gemma had already fallen asleep.
I stumbled out of Gemma’s room, still drunk, and spotted Gray in the shadows of the hallway. He had his hand to the wall, arm outstretched, above Story. It looked like he was talking to her, though her eyes were on the floor.
I shuffled over, interrupting whatever they’d been talking quietly about.
“Why is she with you?” I pointed at the girl. “She’s my girl.”
“She’s my girl now.”
He stepped in front of her like he had the first time I’d spotted her. Had he been keeping her all this time? All the while I’d been looking for her? Drunken anger smothered and softened all the other nasty emotions pricking my heart.
I reeled. “What? Why?”
He smiled. “I don’t really think that’s any of your fucking business, Abby.”
I held out my hand to Story. “Do you want to come back?”
Story and I weren’t ever close, but I couldn’t imagine life with my brother was better than with me.
Story rolled her lips, then shook her head. “No, Ms. Crowne.”