“It makes you so … what?” Austin asked.
I exhaled a heavy breath.
“Sydney …”
I couldn’t even meet his eyes.
“Just say it,” he coaxed soothingly. “It’ll make you feel better.”
All my muscles tightened, and I gritted my teeth, trying to find the words. “He makes me so angry. Sometimes, I feel like I hate him for being so selfish. Because he knew how much we were struggling, and he just left it all for us to deal with. Even the grief of losing my mother.” I tore my eyes from his, hating the pity in them. That familiar look that people gave whenever I talked about my father. “He left Nana with the bar. And Serena with the agency. And me … with the twins. Alec was a boy, growing into a man. He needed a man to teach him about manly things. I couldn’t do that.” My voice cracked, and I shook my head through the fog. “Anyway …”
I focused on my hands splayed in front of me, twisting my fingers. “We paid thousands for Alec and Addison to go through counseling after my mother’s death. Funny how we were all worried about them, but we didn’t even broach the subject of my father seeing a counselor.” I shrugged, letting out a small breath. “Or us for that matter.” My eyebrows pulled together as I zoned in on the speckles of white against the black marble floor.
“I’ve never told anyone that before,” I said, my voice quiet. “It’s oddly satisfying.” Another breath. “I’m angry … I’m angry with my father.”
It was the first time I’d revealed my thoughts out loud. I knew how my siblings felt. We felt the same, but the only difference was, I kept it inside.
Because a part of me always felt that we shouldn’t be mad at our father; we should be understanding.
He’s doing the best he can. He’s still grieving. Give him the benefit of the doubt. Everybody grieves differently.Words I repeated over and over to my family even though what I really wanted to say was,Me too! I’m mad too!
My arms wrapped around my center as I fought back tears before they spilled over, and exactly what I hadn’t wanted the other day was happening—I was crying in front of Austin. But before I could make a lame excuse and back away, Austin stood, stepped into me, and with his splinted hand, he used his good arm to pull me into him.
CHAPTER21
AUSTIN
Usually,tears deterred me. Disgusted me even. When I’d broken up with Tiffany, there were tears, endless tears, until she turned psycho ex-girlfriend on me. Tears almost always had me running in the other damn direction.
But seeing Sydney like this, I couldn’t help but want to be closer. And it didn’t even feel weird. It was an automatic reaction, like breathing. Seeing the sadness in her eyes had me closing the distance between us without giving it a second thought.
I wanted to wrap my arms fully around her, but this damn sling prevented me from doing so. I was so pissed that I couldn’t hold her correctly. Part of me was tempted to tear the damn thing off.
She leaned into me like her body was too heavy to hold itself up. I realized that there was only a towel separating my naked body from hers, but there was no heat in my touch, merely comfort.
That comfort lasted for only a moment before she pushed herself to fully stand and ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. “I’m okay. Really.”
She was far from okay. But I knew this much: Sydney Loverly would never admit she was not okay.
“I should get going.” She couldn’t even look me in the eyes.
“Let’s go eat ice cream,” I said, totally switching subjects on her.
She blinked at me like I was crazy. “It’s late.”
She fidgeted in her spot, as though she was suddenly uncomfortable, and I hated it. I got it. I was half-naked and had witnessed her vulnerable moment. Still, I hated this wall she had started to build.
“And I have to go.” Then, she added, “But rain check? Plus didn’t you say you don’t consume any sugar?”
“I’ll make an exception just for you. Come on,” I prodded. “I have to consume a certain number of calories each day to maintain this body.”
I made my muscles bounce, and she tore her gaze away, her cheeks flushing pink. Wrong move. I wanted her comfortable around me, not awkward.
“You’re a dork, you know that?” she said, a slight smile forming.
“I don’t deny it.” I moved out of the room to put some clothes on.
Then, I realized I had offered her ice cream but didn’t have any in the damn fridge.