* * *
Having slept most of the flight home, I’m wide awake now. I make him a tea, and me a coffee—I long ago passed the point where coffee after a certain time has the power to keep me awake—and carry them onto the deck. It’s an hour past midnight but the heat hasn’t dissipated. This summer has broken all the records, and it feels like it’s never going to end.
I pause just over the threshold of the deck, my eyes dropping to his chest, the shirt he wears. I bought it as a joke. No way did I expect him to take it from my hands, find a restroom and swap into it. It’s gaudy and tacky and cute and so not Barrett, and yet he wore it all night and, I have to say, he looks the bomb in it. Of course.
A smile lifts my lips as I cross to him, handing him the tea.
‘Thanks.’
I stand beside him, sipping my coffee, trying not to overthink this. Last night he told me he has to leave the States in less than two weeks. This guy’s not going to be around for ever—there’s no harm in enjoying this for now, knowing it won’t last much longer.
I can relax. Enjoy it, and him, to the fullest and then go back to normal. I’m not breaking any rules—not badly, anyway.
‘I almost googled you today,’ I surprise myself by admitting.
‘Yeah?’ His gaze falls to mine, enquiry clear on his features. ‘Why?’
I take another sip of my coffee then rest my elbows on the railing, looking out over the twinkling city. ‘To find out whatever I could.’
‘You’re curious about me?’
I resist that. ‘I’m curious about everything.’
He smirks a little, like he knows it’s more specific to him.
‘You don’t need to search for information about me on the internet. You can ask me anything.’
‘Except about your sister?’
I feel him stiffen beside me. He’s quiet for a long time and then he shifts, turning his back on the view, bracing his elbows on the railing, his face angled in my direction. ‘What do you want to know?’
My brow furrows. ‘I don’t want to make you talk about it. I just meant I was curious.’ My expression is almost apologetic. ‘I don’t like unanswered questions.’
‘Nor do I.’ His eyes sweep my face.
‘Forget I asked.’ I wish I could eat the words back up. He has every right to keep his secrets—especially about something like this. ‘Honestly, I have no business even thinking I have a right to know.’
That brings darkness to his face, a look in his eyes I can’t interpret. ‘Of course you do. This isn’t about me wanting to keep it from you specifically; it’s just something I always struggle with. It happened seventeen years ago but time hasn’t made it any easier.’
The last time I tried to console him by drawing a parallel between our grief he reacted awkwardly so I don’t do that again, even when my personal experience has me understanding what he means—it hasn’t got easier for me either.
‘Caroline was a happy kid, you know? We were pretty sheltered, how we grew up. Our parents controlled our social circle; we had a small, close group of friends.’
Including the Harts, I add inwardly, knowing I can’t let myself forget this man’s link to my past, the reason he’s come to San Francisco, and that if I were smart I’d hold onto the fact he lied to me that first night—even if it was a lie by omission. But none of tha
t is at the forefront of my mind any more.
‘We left our small local school to attend different high schools, ones with better reputations academically. They were bigger, with more resources, huge campuses, and while I thrived on that, Caroline just wasn’t cut out for it. She found the social pressure unbearable.’
He closes his eyes for a moment and I wait for what’s coming next, wondering how his thread of conversation could link to her potentially getting sick.
‘She started to lose weight one year. None of us really noticed—or I sure as hell didn’t.’ He lifts his shoulders. ‘But after a few months it was impossible to miss it. Her bones began to stick out; she got so thin, Avery, she was like—’ He shakes his head. ‘My parents thought it was a phase, that it would pass, but years went by and she never got better. I’ll never forget her eyes, how hollowed out they became.’ He shakes his head sadly. ‘Caroline starved herself to death.’
I draw in a sharp breath, lifting a hand to his shoulder, pressing it there, lost for words. ‘I had no idea. My God, Barrett, that must have been so hard to watch.’
‘Hard to watch? Hell, it was—’ His hands tighten and his eyes lift towards the sky. ‘I honestly feel like I can do anything, half the time. But standing on the sidelines as she wasted away, unable to help, unable to fix it... I will never forget how that felt. The powerlessness of my parents, seeing them swallowed by grief. Even now, my mother isn’t the same—she lost—we all lost—so much. Caroline died in front of us and none of us could save her.’
‘Did she go into hospital?’