His smile was warm and gentle, and I appreciated his interest.
My ears warmed. “How about you? Is there anything you missed?”
He tilted his head, thoughtful. “I was living the dream. Still am. But if I were to think of what I’d missed, it would probably be what kids did with their dads in middle school. I remember one of my best friends always went fishing with his dad every weekend—ice fishing. I always wondered about it, so I looked it up on YouTube a couple times.” He shrugged, trying for indifference, but I caught the hurt in his eyes before it disappeared so fast, as though I’d imagined it. “You. Go.”
Letting out a small breath, I thought about it. There were so many instances where I had missed out. The saddest part of it all was after my mother died, I stopped keeping in touch with my high school and college friends. Other responsibilities had weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I didn’t have the time to maintain relationships.
“I didn’t go on spring break. My friends and I planned it, but … that was the month my mother died. I have actually never been on spring break. Not like it matters.” That probably sounded silly. All these other things I could’ve mentioned, and spring break was the only thing that had popped into my head? “That’s stupid, right?”
I chanced a glance at him and saw his whole face brighten, lifting up in a grin.
“What’s stupid about the dumbest and best week of your life?”
Given the smile on his face, I was sure this man had had more than his share of fun at spring break.
I laughed. “I don’t know how dumb I would’ve been—hopefully not much anyway—but it would’ve been great … if I’d gone.” The thought made me sad again, but I covered it up with a smile.
As if realizing I was feeling gloomy about it, Austin leaned in and asked gently, “Where were you gonna go?”
I twisted my fingers in my lap. “Mexico.”
I remembered the day I’d had to tell my friends I couldn’t go. They were disappointed, but they understood. No one had told me not to go, but I’d felt a responsibility to be at home, and going, in my mind, would have been selfish.
He inched closer, and his closeness made warmth spread throughout me.
“Mexico is a great place to go for spring break. Lots of tequila.” He tapped at my paper again. The glint of entertainment in his eyes had my pulse picking up in tempo. “There has to be more. Don’t hold back.”
It was as if that single thought forced the floodgates open because my pen hit the paper and I kept writing and writing and writing.
Run a marathon. Go to a sorority formal. One Def Deception concert.
Austin was peering down at my list. “That’s a good band.”
“I was supposed to go on my twenty-third birthday with my friends, but I had to cancel. Alec had pneumonia.”
And there was that bubble of sadness again, wrapping around my heart. That tiny voice telling me I was only hurting myself by bringing all this up. What could reminiscing about my missed opportunities really bring me? More regret?
“And no one else could take care of him?” he asked, incredulous. “You have how many sisters? And it wasn’t like he was a baby.”
“I mean, they could. Serena and Lyria had offered …” My voice trailed off.
“But you took on that responsibility because you felt like it was all on you? You shouldn’t have to do that, Sydney.”
It hurt to admit it, but I nodded. “In my defense, I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the concert, given that he was sick at home. I’d have been calling him every few minutes, checking up on him to make sure he was okay.”
I felt his warm breath by my ear, his voice soft, which caused shivers to travel down my neck. “But you’re not his mother, Syd. You’re his sister. And you have others. You guys are a team. I’ve seen you. And yet, you still take it all on your shoulders. It’s wrong.”
He was right. I hated that he was right.
“Why is this important to you?”
My question caught him off guard, I could tell. His eyebrows pulled together, and his gaze fell to somewhere over my shoulder.
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice quiet, as though he was equally miffed himself. His eyes met mine then. “Because I owe you. And maybe because I like you. Maybe because I just want you to be happy.”
His words sent the slew of butterflies in my belly into a frenzy.
We were locked in an intimate gaze again.