Page 50 of Not In The Contract

I shut off the treadmill and sat down on the edge, my breath rattling through my body.

“Uh, Alex?”

I glanced up, my tongue latched to the roof of my mouth.

Devon peeked around the half-closed door, her face bright red.

“Yeah?” I grouched, grabbing a water bottle from the mini fridge and taking a long, deliciously icy sip.

“The food just got here,” she said, clearing her throat. “Thought I’d let you know.”

“Thanks, you can start without me.”

I saw her hesitate out of the corner of my eye but refused to repeat myself. I couldn’t shake the discontent that crawled under my skin. I simply didn’t want to talk to Devon just then. But I couldn’t hide out in my gym for the next few weeks. With a sigh, I got up and trudged upstairs and into my bedroom shower, and I might have taken extra care to scrub my skin clean twice over.

I wasn’t looking forward to dinner.

By the time I padded back downstairs I found Devon sitting on one of the kitchen barstools at the counter, poking at her chicken pad thai with little enthusiasm.

I didn’t say anything, just brushed past her, grabbed the other container of food, and snapped the chopsticks.

We ate in tense silence, neither of us looking up from our food, until Devon breathed in deep and sighed.

“Alex, listen,” she said unsurely, but I kept my gaze on my empty carton. “I want to apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have come downstairs, especially after you told me not to. I’m sorry.”

I swallowed the acid in my throat. It shouldn’t upset me so much, but I couldn’t stop the burning in my chest.

“It wasn’t my place to-”

“Save it.”

“Sorry.”

I sighed and set the empty carton on the countertop behind me, bracing my hands on the cool surface.

“Who was that?” she asked, switching tactics.

I pursed my lips. That was information she probably needed for her research. And I wanted to talk about it. I wanted to talk about it to someone who wouldn’t judge or give me shit about any of it.

“That,” I muttered through a breath, “was my younger sister. Jamie.”

“That was yoursister?” She frowned, but then her expression cleared. “That makes sense, actually.”

“She has some issues with letting go,” I explained. “She relies on me a lot, and I haven’t been there for her much.”

“You haven’t?” she asked, the genuine confusion in her voice surprising me. “Wait, start from the beginning, please? I don’t know what happened after you found her.”

I rolled my neck, trying to fend off the impending migraine clawing its way into my skull.

“When I found Jamie, she,” I paused, searching for the words I needed, “she wasn’t happy that it had taken me so long to find her. She said we had so much to do to make up for all the lost time.”

“But you were a kid when you were separated,” she murmured, her brows drawn. “And you were working and studying, how could she have expected you to find her?”

“I think she just needed something constant in her life,” I mused. “We were separated for so long, and she was never happy with her foster family. I owe it to her to be there when she needs me.”

Devon only looked at me, bewildered and sad. “You’ve taken care of her ever since you were reunited?”

I nodded slowly. “Jamie is a gentle soul. She’s a musician, an artist who doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the world. At least, not the world’s idea of a successful person. I worked hard to make sure that she could live without ever needing to worry about working a job she hates. I don’t want her to feel isolated or alone.”