“Nic knew?” Anger shoots through my blood, and I welcome it. Anger is so much easier to cope with than this fucking awful helplessness. “You told her?”
“Out of necessity, yes. I did.”
“What else was she keeping from me? Did she lie about everything?” I tear my hands through my hair and pace the living room. I’ve already had my guts ripped out today and now this.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Ethan.”
“She’s not who we think, Mom.”
“I know very well that Nic isn’t Veronica,” she says. “But she only lied because I asked her to.” She shakes her head. “I begged her, actually. She didn’t want to pretend to be her sister, but a sick old lady asked her a favor, and she couldn’t refuse.”
I shake my head, but she doesn’t take back the words, and my denial does nothing to ease the clawing panic in my throat. What the hell is happening? “You asked her to lie? Why would you do that? Why would you lie to me?”
“Her sister didn’t show—too busy running off with Nic’s fiancé. I did what I thought I had to do at the time.”
“That’s ridiculous.” The whole day’s been too much. The letters from prospective employers, the bombshell from Kyrstie, meeting Nic’s twin, and now Mom’s cancer? This has to be some sort of nightmare. “You should have told us the truth. And Nic should have too.”
When Mom brings her eyes to mine, they’re hard. “We all do what we think we need to in order to protect those we love more than ourselves. Like you with Lilly and the story you tell everyone about Elena’s heart attack. Lies aren’t always evil. Sometimes they’re necessary.”
I stare at her, my eyes cloudy with tears as I try to process everything. My mother is dying. Nic only lied because she had to. My mother knows Elena committed suicide.
“I’ve got them, Nana!” Lilly shouts, racing back down the stairs.
Mom gives me one last pointed look before she pastes on a smile for Lilly. “I want to look at them one at a time, and I want you to tell me everything I missed.”
Nicole
I do as he asked and wait until after Lilly’s bedtime before going to the house, but when I go to the front door, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to knock or use my key. Ethan pulls it open before I can decide.
I step inside. My duffel bag is sitting in the foyer, bursting at the seams, and Ethan is walking away from me.
I follow him into his office, where he’s going through a stack of papers. Résumés for my replacement?
“Ethan,” I say softly.
His gaze flicks up to mine before dropping back to the stack of papers. “I know this is the part where we’re supposed to have the big blowout fight, but I think I’ll pass.” He keeps his head down. “Just take your bag and go. But try to do it quietly. Mom’s home and she’s sleeping in the living room.”
My heart lifts and I actually smile—something I would have believed impossible seconds ago. “Your mom’s home?”
“She returned tonight.” His nostrils flare. “She’s very sick, but apparently you already know that.”
His anger feels like a knife in the gut. “Ethan, I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry. It was her secret.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “And what about your name? What was keeping you from telling me that?”
“I—”
He holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Don’t. Please. Forget I asked.”
All this time, I’ve been clinging to the idea of him understanding my lie if he just knew why I did it. But he knows and he’s still so angry.
“If you can still do afternoons with Lilly, that would be great. She would—” He swallows, and his jaw hardens. “It would make this transition easier for her.”
“Of course I will. Anything for her.”
He nods sharply. “Great. Shay’s agreed to move in temporarily to do overnights and mornings until I figure out a long-term solution. Obviously, Mom can’t do it.”
“Ethan, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie, but . . .”
“But you did.” He doesn’t lift his head to meet my eyes. “You lied about who you are, and you lied about why you were here. And when you knew I might never see my own mother again, you lied and pretended she was traveling Europe.”
His words feel like the cruelest insult, and I’m disgusted with myself because they’re nothing but the truth.
He drops the stack of papers onto his desk and turns to me. He looks so damn tired. Back are the sad eyes of the stranger I met at the bar. I did that.
“I’m not sorry that I lied to you,” I say, “because without that lie, you wouldn’t have let me in the door. Living here and loving you and Lilly has been the best month of my life. I’m only sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner.” I reach out and press my palm to his chest, half expecting him to sweep it away. When he doesn’t, I close my eyes and take a moment to memorize the feel of his pounding heart under my hand. “And I’m sorry Elena hurt you so badly that you don’t believe love is worth fighting for.”