Chapter Twenty-Six
Susan gripped Andrew’s hand more tightly and pulled him into Mercy’s house. He tried to tell himself what happened next wasn’t a big deal, but it would hurt if things didn’t go well. Not just him—he was more worried about the impact it would have on Susan.
“Hello?” Susan called.
“Kitchen.” Mercy’s reply carried through the house.
Andrew followed Susan toward the noise. Mercy’s back was to them when they entered the room. “How’s Olivia?” she asked, fiddling with the coffee maker.
It was about ten, the day after Christmas. The night before, Susan sent Mercy a generic staying with a friend text, to keep her from worrying, but this relationship wasn’t something Susan or Andrew wanted to hide.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see her,” Susan said.
Mercy turned their way. “I thought…” She trailed off when she met Andrew’s gaze. She looked at their clasped hands, then back at their faces. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“There’s something we need to tell you.” Susan squeezed his hand again.
If she did that too many more times, she’d cut off the circulation. Andrew might prefer that to this awkwardness.
Mercy didn’t look at her sister. “Can we talk alone, Andrew?”
“No,” Susan said. “This is about him and me, and we’re both going to be here for this conversation.”
“Exactly,” Andrew said. They’d agreed this was what they wanted to do, and he was glad to hear her stick to the resolution.
“You’re lucky Ian’s out getting coffee. He might not be as generous as me.” Mercy crossed her arms. “But I’m listening.”
Andrew wanted to point out she probably wasn’t. Not with a posture like that. However, he preferred not to aggravate her more than was necessary. “I’ve given Susan my apologies, and I’m lucky she heard me out. I’m sorry I promised you something I wasn’t capable of doing, but I can’t keep my distance from her. I have no interest in doing so. I love your sister.”
Mercy laughed bitterly. “Do you even know what that means?”
He couldn’t ignore the sting her words caused. “Love? Not in a tangible, put-it-in-a-box kind of way, but I’m figuring it out in all its various flavors.”
“Don’t pull a Dad.” Warning filled Susan’s voice.
Mercy looked at her. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t walk into this, thinking you know what’s best for me because of your preconceived notions. Don’t project your feelings on me because you never dealt with the way you and he left things.”
That wasn’t the way Andrew wanted this to go.
Mercy straightened, lines creasing her brow. “You don’t know anything about that.”
“I know what you told me.”
Andrew wasn’t going to let this conversation deteriorate into bickering, and he would do everything in his power to keep from driving Mercy and Susan apart. He stepped forward, watching Mercy. “I’ve never said this, and I always wish I had. What happened with you and me? It was a mistake.”
A shadow crossed Mercy’s face.
He pushed forward before he could talk himself out of it. “Am I wrong?”
“No.”
“Back then, I never should have pushed you into a romance. But you shouldn’t have told me you were okay with an open relationship when you weren’t. We both fucked up, and it wasn’t meant to be.” The words had been in his thoughts for so long, it felt odd to hear them spoken aloud. It lifted a weight from him.
Mercy chewed the inside of her lip. “You knew I wasn’t all right with it, and you plowed ahead anyway.”
“True. That’s kind of a cop-out, though. Don’t you think? Shifting all the blame to me?” They’d never had this conversation. She refused to hear his apology back then, and the next time they spoke was when he was in the hospital. Talking about their failed romance seemed inconsequential, compared to his recovering from third degree burns. “I’ll admit I had a hand in it. Hence the we both fucked up.”