Nina clasped her hands in front of her. “We’ve moved up the wedding. It’s in two weeks. I need you to come.”
Elle laughed, actually laughed loud enough that she had to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t wake Lane. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you high? I’d rather get a root canal without anesthesia. Why would you even—”
“Mom’s got breast cancer.”
Elle’s coffee cup hit the counter with a thunk. “What?”
Nina’s throat worked as she swallowed. “She tried to call you and tell you but, obviously, you’re not answering her calls. They want her to have surgery, but she doesn’t want to do anything until after the wedding. I think she’s worried she’s not going to make it out of surgery.”
“Jesus.” Elle’s heart was thumping too hard, her hands clammy. “What do the doctors think?”
“They have a more positive outlook than she does, but you know doctors.”
“We can’t make promises.”
“Right.” Nina was looking at her hands, absently turning her sparkling engagement ring. “And I know it’s a shit thing to ask. I know I betrayed you in the most epic way possible.” She looked up, her eyes shiny. “And I’m sorry. I truly am. Not that I found Henry, but that he was yours and I didn’t have the right to him back then. I never wanted to hurt you. It was never about that.”
The apologies were long-coming but Elle couldn’t quite absorb them. Some things were beyond forgiveness.
“But Mom wants nothing more than for all of us to be at the wedding next weekend. She…” Nina looked up to the ceiling. “She thinks that all this family drama, the tension between you and I, contributed to the cancer.”
“What?”
“She said she doesn’t talk about it, but you and I being estranged and you being depressed and living this lonely workaholic life weighs on her.”
Elle put a finger to her chest. “Me? I’m not depressed. I’m fine.”
Nina met her eyes, a get-real look on her face. “You live alone on the grounds of a mental hospital. You realize that’s messed up, right? Like, normal people wouldn’t want to do that. This basically screams I want to be a hermit, never get married, and never have kids.”
“Like that’s some requirement in life? And I was married, Nina.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Go ahead and throw it in my face again. You were married. I messed it up. That doesn’t mean it’s my fault that you’re almost forty and bitter and alone.”
The words were like knives hitting all the tender parts, tearing strips off her. She wanted to throw something, to scream. But before she could get any words out, footsteps sounded behind her.
“Doc, how could you let me sleep this long? I have a full schedule, you—” Lane’s words cut off as soon as he rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen, standing there in nothing but a pair of unbuttoned jeans, his discarded T-shirt casually tossed over this shoulder. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company.”
Lane quickly fastened the butt
on on his jeans and offered a chagrined smile as he tugged on his shirt, looking as sexy as Elle had ever seen him in his sleep-mussed and half-naked state. But that view wasn’t as satisfying as her sister’s stunned face.
“Uh,” Nina said, looking at Lane with wide eyes. “Hello.”
Lane jabbed a thumb toward the back of the house. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can…”
“Oh, you’re not interrupting, honey,” Elle said, coming back to herself.
Honey?
Lane looked her way, question marks in his eyes. But she hoped she gave him a sign that said, Please, for the love of God, just roll with it. “This is my sister, Nina.”
Lane’s brows went up, his smile widening. He stepped closer to Nina and put out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Nina still looked shell-shocked. “And you are?”
Elle jumped into action before she realized what she was doing. She walked over to Lane and slid an arm around his waist. “This is Lane. My…” Lover. Hooker. Co-Worker. “Fiancé.”
The word leapt out before she could stop it. Lane’s muscles stiffened beneath her fingers. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. That was absolutely one-hundred percent not what she was supposed to say.