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Monti knew that she was blindsiding her, that this was going to be out of the blue, but she had to know, didn’t she? “I haven’t gotten close to you on purpose. I haven’t let myself be loved by you.”

“This is what you called about? Tonight of all nights?”

Monti ran through her memory to try and remember what the significance was that she was missing.

“It’s Mom’s birthday.”

Her blood ran cold. She was such an idiot. She never remembered dates like she should. Groaning, Monti turned onto her side and clenched her eyes tightly. “I hate that I keep doing this.”

“Why do you keep doing it?”

“Because I never cared before.”

“Before?” Fallon paused. “Do you care now?”

“I care because it matters to you.” Monti flipped onto her back again. “I should be there for you, and instead, I’ve pushed you away at every turn because I don’t want to hurt you if something were to happen to me.”

“If something—“

“If I died.” Monti trembled. She stared at her door, seeing Athena’s feet in the shadow from the light in the hall. She swallowed hard, her heart in her throat. Was Athena going to come in? Was she going to listen in from the doorway and see if Monti was okay? Because she wasn’t okay. She was definitely not all right.

“How can you think like that?”

“How can I not?” Monti fired back. She debated whether or not to keep talking since she knew Athena was out there, but what else did she have to lose? “They died and left. Mom died and you’ve been broken ever since. I couldn’t add to that.”

“So instead you just closed yourself off?”

“Yeah.” Monti bit her lip, watching as Athena’s feet disappeared. She relaxed. “Yeah, I did, because I don’t want to hurt anyone like Mom hurt us.”

“It wasn’t her fault that she died.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Monti agreed. She toed off her shoes and heard the plops as they fell to the floor. “But it is her fault that she didn’t do something about it sooner. And I get it. I’ve worked with victims of domestic violence and abuse before. I get that she was scared and didn’t feel like she had a choice, but a part of me still blames her for not doing something.”

“Monti…” Fallon trailed off, sighing. “I blamed her for years too. But at some point, I had to stop.”

“What difference would it even make?”

“All the difference.”

Monti held her breath, like Fallon was going to tell her some secret that she’d been waiting for that she couldn’t let through her grasp.

“It allowed me to just love her.”

Was it really that simple? Monti swallowed back the worry and the fear, the discomfort at being so close to someone. If she pushed past the blame, could she love her dead mother? Could she learn to love Fallon and let Fallon love her? She took in slow breaths, that pent up chaotic energy dissipating just a little.

“It allowed me to love you,” Fallon added. “Because you know that’s not always easy. Especially when you’re off gallivanting around the world and not talking to me.”

“I never ignore you on purpose, you know that, right?”

“Not intentionally. But I do think that you limit contact because you’re scared of allowing me in.”

Why did her sister have to be so astute tonight? Then again, that had been why Monti had called. She’d needed a swift kick in the ass. One that would get her on the right path again. “I don’t do it with just you.”

“I know.” Now Fallon sounded like she was smiling. Which she probably was, because she was getting exactly what she’d wanted from Monti for years. Openness. Vulnerability. Actual deep conversation. “You do it with everyone.”

“How do I stop?”

“One step at a time.”