“I hope so too,” I replied. “You lost more than a sister when Issy died.”
He nodded, his head falling into his hands, his fingers sliding into his hair. “My whole family died with her. At least, the family we were before we lost her. We’ve never been the same.”
I couldn’t bear seeing him in so much pain. I climbed into his lap facing him, wrapped my arms and legs around him, and held him. And held him.
He buried his face in my neck His breathing never stumbled but he didn’t try to pull away. We sat there, entangled in each other, closer than ever.
“I don’t talk about it. Not ever. Not with anyone. Thinking back to that time is too painful.”
I wanted to say that he could tell me anything, that I was his safe space, but there was no need. He knew it already.
Twenty-Four
Tristan
The alarm on my phone went off and I reached across the bed, just like I had every morning in Mexico. Except this morning, my hands didn’t find Parker. I opened my eyes to find the other half of the bed empty.
We’d gotten home last night and she’d fallen asleep on the sofa in front of the TV. I’d carried her upstairs to bed.
“Parker?” I called out, but there was no reply.
I staggered out of bed and into the hallway, where I saw her bedroom door ajar. I pushed the door open to find Parker fast asleep.
What was she doing?
I scooped her up and, as I was laying her down back in my bed, she opened her eyes. “You’re always carrying me places,” she said, her voice full of sleep.
“It’s because you’re so tiny—it’s easy and quick.” I slipped back under the sheets, lying on my side next to her. I propped my head up on my hand. “Why did you go back to the guest room?”
She dragged her hands down her face and groaned. “I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t want you to wake up and wish I wasn’t next to you.”
Now it was my time to groan. “Why would you think that?”
She propped herself up onto her elbows. “If this was my house, I might feel that way if you woke up in my bed. You know I like my space.”
I chuckled. “Oh how I love your truth bombs, Parker. But for the record, I didn’t want to wake up to an empty bed.”
“You sure?” she asked. “I’m a grabby sleeper. I like to starfish.”
“I noticed. I might have to invest in an Alaskan king.” My phone buzzed on the nightstand. “It’s Gabriel,” I explained. “He wants to catch up for dinner. Are you free tonight?”
“He’s inviting me?”
“He’s inviting us.”
Parker sighed. “Tristan, he knows we’re not a real couple. He’ll be inviting you, not us.” She sat up properly this time and looked me right in the eye. “We’ve been thrown off course a little. Maybe it was the sunshine or the margaritas. Whatever it was, we’re back to real life now. And in real life, we’re not a real couple.”
She was starting to piss me off. If she was trying to dismiss what had happened between us as a holiday romance, I was going to get irritated.
I knew how good Mexico had been.
I knew how close we’d gotten.
I knew she felt it too.
I swung her legs around and shifted her onto my lap so she was facing me. “Stop freaking out, Parker.”
“I’m not freaking out. I’m being practical.”
“No, you’re freaking out. We’re not going back to how things were before Mexico. Even if we wanted to—which neither of us do—it would be impossible. Too much has happened.”
“You’re telling me what I want and don’t want?” she asked.
My jaw was tight and my heartbeat thundered in my chest like horses’ hooves. I wanted her and I knew she wanted me too, but something inside her was trying to sabotage us before we’d even got going. “Actually I am. And I’m right, too. But I want to understand why you’re pulling away.”
“It’s just so complicated. What do we do, file for divorce in ninety days and then start dating? It’s too weird.”
“We’ll figure out ninety days in ninety days. Between now and then, we’re going to enjoy being with each other. Waking up together. Going to bed together. Eating together and socializing with each other’s friends.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t have a good track record with boyfriends,” she said, glancing up at me sheepishly.
I wanted to tell her I was already president of the Bad at Relationships Club, but something told me there was more she had to say.
“I told you that I was engaged once. A while ago.”
I held my breath. I wanted to hear more about it but I hadn’t wanted to ask.
“It didn’t last long.” She let out a bitter laugh. It was a tone I’d never heard from her before. “Right around the time he found out I didn’t have access to any money of my own, he . . . left me.”