I cut myself off.
A kiss at thirteen was still a terrible thing to admit. It didn’t matter that the moment it all changed, it wasn’t my fault but hers. She’d been the one to ruin us, destroy me, and corrupt every day from there on.
And who knew?
If she’d never kissed me at the exact same second when I was having the most incredible dream of my life, I might never have had to fight changing thoughts and switching needs.
But she had, and I couldn’t confess her age or mine when it’d happened.
Della put her hand on my arm, squeezing gently. “Ren, it’s okay.” Turning to David, she sniffed. “You know enough. You don’t need to know anymore. And as for your second thing, I can guess what you’re about to ask.”
“You can?” He raised a fair-coloured eyebrow.
“Of course, she can guess,” I interrupted. “Everyone can guess what you really want to know. I want to know, too. But there isn’t an answer. Not yet, anyway.”
Della gave me a sad look, her fingers feathering on my arm again, this time in worry rather than consolation. “Does it scare you?” she murmured.
I completely forgot about David as I drank her in, saw her panic, tasted her concern. Unable to stop myself, I cupped her cheek softly. “I’m fucking terrified. But…we don’t have a choice now. We’ve gone too far to go back.”
She pressed her face into my hold, her gaze glassing liquid before she nodded. “I know.”
David sighed. “I guess you have just answered my question.”
We both turned to him, my hand dropping from her cheek. I’d forgotten how in-tune Della and I were. I didn’t know what it was—a lifetime lashing us together, heartstrings knotted together, or just a sixth sense.
Our connection used to wow me as a boy and now undid me as a man.
“You want to know what happens in the end,” I said quietly, staring him down. “You want to know if I’ll keep Della happy for the rest of her life. That this isn’t a mistake. That we aren’t doing something sick just for the hell of it. Am I right?”
David swallowed, his face falling in a way I hadn’t expected. “I care for Della, and for the past six months, I’ve hated you for hurting her. But you’re right. It is sick, and I don’t agree with it. And I hope to God I’m wrong, but I don’t think it will work between you. However, I also know you care for her. I see that. I just hope you understand what you’re getting into.”
My stomach clenched. “I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Anger turned his voice sharp. “You share the same last name. How’s that going to work now you’re no longer able to be called brother and sister? You know Della better than anyone, but how is it going to feel when you can’t separate the past from the present? What happens when it all goes wrong? What about when people find out?” He forced out a breath, reining himself in. “Look, you’re right. There is no answer. And I can’t protect Della from future heartache. It’s not my place. I just hope you know what you’re doing. Seeing as you’re supposed to be the parental figure in this scenario.”
Fuck.
His words rang in my head.
It wasn’t anything I hadn’t thought about before, but he’d returned all my revulsion and fear. What would happen when we could no longer use the same name? Was that why I was forcing her to leave? So the next town we came across, I could introduce her as my wife and not my sister?
Christ.
I spoke the truth when I said it was too late to go back, but maybe it was suicide if we continued going forward.
Dread settled acidic in my belly as David shrugged at Della. “Sorry, Del. I know I said I’d just say goodbye, but I couldn’t help it.” Gathering her in a hug, he kissed her cheek. “Forgive me?”
She sighed. “Nothing to forgive. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.”
“Don’t be.” His eyes glistened. “I’m really glad you found me that night.”
My hands curled, reminded yet again that David had touched her.
“I’m always here if you need me. Just please…be careful. Okay?” He kissed her one last time, then stepped back. “I want you to be happy, regardless if I don’t agree with how you find it.”
Giving me a cool look, he pointed toward the road. “Now, get off my property.”
Snatching Della’s hand, I helped her slip her backpack onto her shoulders and yanked her through the white picket gate. “Be my pleasure.”
Letting her go, I expected Della to take her hand back. Instead, she latched her fingers around mine—five of hers to my four—and tugged me forward. “Come on, Ren. Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN