Alex scrubs a hand along his stubbly jawline. “I can’t believe we’re here. I can’t believe he’s gone. I’m going to miss Reeve so fucking much.” His eyes turn glassy, and I squeeze his hand.
“He loved you like a brother. I hope you know that.”
Alex nods, rubbing at his eyes, before grabbing a bottle of beer. “I heard what you said in the hospital that morning and just now, and you’re wrong, Viv. Reeve loved the shit out of you. You were always it for him. Yes, I’m sure he was angry and hurt at the things he discovered, but he didn’t die believing those things of you. His love for you drove his actions that night. He died protecting you and Lainey. Trust me when I say Reeve would not have wanted it any other way and he would not want you blaming yourself.”
Mom clenches her hands into fists. “As much as I’d like to point the finger of blame in Dillon’s direction, Audrey is right. It was a tragic accident, compounded by several things. That doesn’t mean Dillon is off the hook though. He has a lot to answer for. His scheming contributed.”
“I always believed Easton was conceived in love, but Dillon never loved me. I was a means of exacting revenge. That was all. I was such a fool.” I loved him for years, feeling horrible guilt for harboring longing for my ex when I was blissfully happy with my husband. Discovering that Dillon played me the whole time makes me sick to my stomach.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Dad says, and I arch a brow. “Dillon was at the hospital with Ash and Jamie and Ronan, for hours, in the waiting room. You probably don’t remember this, darling,” he adds, facing Mom, “but he gave quite a heartfelt speech before we asked him to leave.” Earnest hazel eyes meet mine. “He said he loved you. That he regretted letting you go and you were his everything.”
Alex harrumphs. “Yeah, his actions these past few weeks really showed that,” he sneers.
“I’m not defending the man,” Dad continues, “but I think he should be given an opportunity to explain himself before everyone throws shade. I believe he was sincere at the hospital, and let’s not forget the part Simon played in all of this.”
“I have never wanted to dig up a body to whale on it more in my life,” Mom says, and it helps to ease some of the tension.
Giggles bubble up my throat, and I don’t fight them, setting them free. It’s too funny hearing Mom say such things. “I say we dig him up, piss on his bones, then pour acid over him, and watch him disintegrate into nothing but ash that flitters away in the wind,” I add, accepting a vodka cranberry from my bestie.
“Creative.” Audrey kisses my cheek. “And a little bloodthirsty. I approve.” She leans into Alex, and he slides his arm around her.
I look away, unable to bear witness to their love, which makes me feel like a bitter bitch. It’s funny. I remember feeling a lot like this when I first fled to Ireland after Reeve had broken my heart. I thought every loving couple, every PDA, was going to kill me until Dillon helped me to heal. It might not have been real on his end, but at least he gave me that much.
“How could Simon keep so much from us? From me?” Dad shakes his head. “I thought we were friends, but I never knew the man. Not really.”
“Come on, Jon. The friendship was tentative, at best, after Felicia died. He pulled away from us, and all the respect I’d had for him evaporated with his neglectful treatment of his son. Then to find out he’d given Reeve’s twin away.” Sadness ghosts over her face. “Look at what he set in motion. All the pain his actions have caused. Dillon was wrong to direct that anger at Reeve, but I can fully understand his feelings toward Simon. What Simon did to him was unforgivable.”
Silence descends for a few minutes. “It doesn’t change anything though,” I say in between sips of my vodka. “And I’m the one left to pick up the pieces.” I glance out the window, spotting Easton and his best friend Nash playing in the playground.
“The wrong twin died,” Alex says, a muscle popping in his jaw. “Reeve was innocent in all of this, but Dillon knew what he was doing. If anyone had to die, it should’ve been him.”
“Thanks for that,” a familiar husky voice says, and I whip my head around, spotting Dillon and Ash standing in the doorway with the rest of their family in the hallway outside. “Don’t hold back on my account,” he adds, striding into the room.