He shrugs awkwardly, his smile filled with remorse as he looks to me for forgiveness.
‘I need you to understand that, sis. I was hurt when he wouldn’t help me, and I lashed out. I lied, and I’m sorry... I guess I was always a little envious of how good he was at everything, and too selfish to care about the consequences.’
I hear what he’s saying, and I can read that he means it too, and my heart lifts a little. But it doesn’t change how things have worked out. It doesn’t change how Lucas feels for me.
‘And you, David?’ My mother turns to my father. ‘What do you have to say?’
He clears his throat. ‘I’ll go with Nate. I’ll make sure Lucas realises that we were in the wrong, and that you shouldn’t be tainted by this, Eva. If you want to work with him—’
Mum elbows him none too subtly in the ribs and he clears his throat again.
‘If you want to be with him, then you have our blessing.’
I want to cry and laugh at once. So much, too late. ‘Thanks, Dad, I appreciate it.’
‘Good.’
‘But you don’t need to worry. I’ve decided to sign with Rosalie.’
My father’s frown is immediate, as is my brother’s.
‘Why?’
My throat clogs as my vision blurs, and I try to swallow, to force it back. I can’t bring myself to say that it’s over between Lucas and I. All of it—over.
‘Sis...?’
Nate’s voice is soft, his hand on my shoulder aimed to soothe, and I shake my head. My fingers tremble as I press them to my lips.
‘He’s gone... He’s gone and he’s not coming back.’
‘But—’
My father’s voice is drowned out by the ancient doorbell chiming through the house and Frodo’s bark. Everyone looks in the direction of the hall, momentarily frozen, and it’s my mother who comes alive first, standing and brushing off her skirt.
‘How’s that for timing?’
She bustles out, Frodo on her tail, but she’s hardly gone a second before her voice reaches us.
‘Eva, darling, you have a visitor.’
A visitor? On Christmas Day?
There’s only one person I’d dare hope would turn up.
‘Don’t keep him waiting,’ my father urges.
I rise up and head out into the hallway on autopilot. Mum is at the front door. Frodo is on his hind legs, fussing over my visitor.
Over—Lucas.
My heart leaps inside my chest, and my footing falters just as his eyes meet mine.
‘Ah, there she is,’ says Mum, turning to face me, her smile one of beaming encouragement as she leaves Lucas and walks towards me. ‘Come on, Frodo, let’s get you some turkey.’
She gives my arm a gentle squeeze as she passes, but I’m barely aware of the contact as I drown in his gaze, forcing my legs to close the distance between us.
‘What are you doing here?’ I manage to say.