Page 28

28

KIT

M aren’s condo on 57th Street is a thing of beauty. It’s been featured in magazines. A very famous Oscar nominee once made a ridiculous offer to buy it on the spot. Sure, she hired decorators, but the riotous vision was hers. The bold palm wallpaper on one wall, paired with hot pink velvet chairs. Another wall painted glossy charcoal gray, with pale gray hardwood. Of course, the floor is covered in dog toys and what appears to be excrement, which detracts a little from the chic vibe.

“Sorry,” Maren says, picking up dog poop off the floor, walking toward the kitchen. “Echo was a bad little girl today.”

I take a seat on the couch while she washes her hands, not quite ready to say the things I need to. “What have you been up to today?” I ask, stalling, when she returns.

She gives me a confused smile, as if she’s not sure of the answer. “Harvey wants to buy a beach place,” she says, kneeling on the floor to start collecting dog toys. “I was thinking about how I’d decorate it.”

I arch a brow, glancing around me. I’m not going to discuss the divorce here. I’ve seen too many movies where someone learns something they shouldn’t from a hidden camera. “So things are good?”

Her smile fades. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t say they’re good, but I guess they could be worse.”

I really wish she’d provided a happier answer, but I’m not sure, ultimately, that it would make the discussion we’re about to have any easier.

“I lied to you,” I blurt out. “When I went away? I wasn’t in Mexico with Mallory. I was in Turks and Caicos. With Miller.”

Maren carefully places the dog toys she’s collected on the table beside her. Her eyes are wide and confused. “Miller? Miller West?”

We don’t know any other guys named Miller. It’s just a reflection of her disbelief. It’s a reflection of the fact that she can’t imagine I, of all people, would stab her in the back like this. My stomach knots so tight that it hurts.

I nod. “He knew I was going to end things with Blake, and then Dad told him about the proposal and he flew back to…to sort of rescue me from it. He knew if I got in there with all those people watching, I’d just cave, and I’d keep right on caving.”

Maren sits up straighter, sucking in her cheeks. “He flew back to rescue you? From where?”

I sigh. In retrospect, it’s so crazy that I didn’t see it. A man doesn’t rush onto the first plane from Tanzania for someone he just sees as a friend. “Tanzania. He’d stayed for a safari.”

She grips the edge of the coffee table, her eyes already tear-filled before she closes them. “Wow.”

“We weren’t together,” I tell her. “We weren’t together there, and that wasn’t meant to change when he came here, but then…”

“It did,” she says flatly, climbing to her feet. “You and him. I guess that means you’re together? Is that why you’re here?”

She’s angry and hurt and I don’t blame her. I let her sit across from me for weeks talking about Miller, knowing how wrong she was. Knowing I’d taken what she thought was hers. I lied by omission. I also lied to her face.

“Jesus, Kit,” she says quietly, walking out of the room.

I sit, with no idea what I should do next. Do I leave and let her process it? Do I follow her wherever she went and beg her to forgive me? Because it was so shitty. I’m sort of the reason she lost him a decade ago and now, not only am I trying to claim him, but I also made her look like a fool.

Am I really going to do this if it divides me and Maren forever? I don’t even know what Miller wants . But...yes, I am. Because I’m tired of being miserable. But it’s really going to hurt if I lose my sister in the process.

Soft steps come down the hall. Her jaw is set, her face is pale, and she’s cuddling Echo as if her life depends on it.

“You should have told me,” Maren says. “It’s absolute bullshit that you’ve been with him this whole time and let me sit there like an asshole saying he was my soulmate.”

I shake my head. “I ended it. I ended it the second you said you were leaving Harvey and started talking about Miller as if you were interested. But I’m here because I’m miserable without him.” My voice breaks. “I love him, Mare. I am so head over heels in love with him that I’m sick with it. And I know how you must have felt when you broke up because...that’s where I am now. It’s as if nothing else matters anymore.”

I swallow, trying to pull myself together—those words were harder to admit than I’d expected. Because they’re true and they’re going to remain a little true forever. I might recover, mostly, but there’s always going to be a piece of me missing without him. “He makes me happy,” I finally continue, “in a way no one since Rob has. But I don’t want to lose you in the process.”

She places her fingertips against her closed eyelids, as if divining the future or easing away a headache. “You can’t lose me, idiot. I’m your sister.”

My throat aches, and I bury my head in my hands as I start to cry. I had no idea until this moment how scared I was to tell her, how scared I was that it would ruin everything. And I should have known better. Because when has Maren ever held anything against me? She’s put me before herself again and again, and she’s doing it even now.

A second later the couch sinks as she takes a seat beside me. “Kit, what I felt versus what you’re feeling is apples and oranges,” she says, clasping her hands together tight. “I was infatuated with him, sure, at least half because he was the first guy I’d dated who wanted me less than I wanted him. But I never felt like nothing else mattered. Loads of things still mattered to me when Miller and I broke up, and I was dating someone else five days later. Miller was like...my crush on Henry Cavill. I can picture Henry Cavill being the perfect husband because I’m not married to him. And because I don’t really know him. Miller was around all the time that summer, but I still didn’t know who he was. Even back then, I remember wondering why the fuck he seemed happier talking to my kid sister than me.”

This makes me cry harder. In part because it does make me feel as if I took something away from her, in part because she’s so wonderful and yet I’m here planning to screw her over regardless.

She wraps an arm around me. “I can’t believe you just stole my boyfriend and I’m the one comforting you . Being the oldest absolutely sucks.”

I laugh and cry at the same time. She’s smiling but there are tears running down her face too. It’s not going to be easy on her, this transition, and I wish I wasn’t adding to her pain, because I know she’s not happy with Harvey, and I don’t think she’s going to stay with him, but I really do need to take this one thing for myself.

“I’m so sorry, Mare. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Little Kitty Cat,” she coos. “You’ve had a really shitty couple of years. If you’ve found someone who makes you happy, I’m not going to ask you to give it up. Though it’s going to be really weird if it lasts. I mean, think about it. At Thanksgiving dinner, Mom will be the only female in the room who hasn’t slept with him.”

I hiccup a laugh. “She went through that wild period after husband number four. I wouldn’t rule it out.”

She releases me at last and curls up on the other end of the couch. “What does Miller have to say about it? I assume you wouldn’t be here telling me this if he didn’t feel the same way.”

“I haven’t spoken to him about it since I ended things,” I whisper, as my pulse speeds up. “It’s been two weeks and I’m hoping his feelings haven’t changed, but I wanted to talk to you first. And spread the ashes.”

Her eyes widen and she sits up straight. “You did it? The ashes?”

I nod. “It was time.”

“Wow,” she whispers. “I thought you’d never get to that point. What made you decide?”

“I love Miller. I’m ready to move on.”

She leans over and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Then you must mean it. And as much as I’d like to make you stay and help me clean, I think I probably need a good cry, and it sounds like you need to go have a chat with Miller.”

“I don’t want you to cry.”

She smiles. “You clearly have no idea how miserable it is being married to Harvey. I cry everyday anyhow.”

I glance toward the mantel, which used to hold several pictures of her wedding day and now only features photos of her dogs. “We should work on that.”

“Later,” she says. “Right now, you’ve got someone to see. But Kit?”

I wait for her to tell me something meaningful… don’t hurt him , perhaps, or be sure this is what you want .

But no, this is Maren.

“Borrow my lipstick. Umbrellas in Paris. It’s on my vanity. It’ll look amazing with those shoes.”

I throw my arms around her. “That’s my lipstick, you bitch.”

She laughs. “You took my ex. Let’s call it even.”