chapter four
Lily
“WELL, WELL, YOU’RE ALIVE,” Rose greets me, sounding extra grumpy. “I hope you know I’ve been worried sick. In fact—”
I cut her off before she can get another word in. “I need you to promise you won’t tell anyone that you talked to me.”
She pauses, and I can hear her suck in a harsh breath. “Why?”
“No questions. Promise me, Rose.” My voice is as firm as my resolve. If she can’t promise, I’m ending this call. And I won’t call her again until I’m back in Manhattan.
Not sure when that’s going to happen, though.
“I can’t tell Violet?” she asks. “She’s worried, too. I don’t want to keep secrets from her.”
“Especially not Violet.” She’d have no problem continually calling me, wearing me down until I have to answer. And then she’d most likely heap on the guilt, and that’s the last thing I want to deal with. “No one else can know where I am.”
“But why? Are you in hiding or what? The gossip sites have been wondering where you’ve disappeared to.” Another pause. “And what about Caden? I tell him everything. He’s the last person I can keep a secret from.”
I want to roll my eyes but don’t. Besides, the effort would be wasted because no one can see me. Of course she tells her husband everything. They’re so close, so madly in love and wrapped up in their own little world.
And I’m all alone in my hotel suite, my hand patched up and wrapped tightly, a little high on pain medication. Talk about a shitty start to my so-called vacation. “Not even Caden. I’m trusting you, baby sister. Only you, so I need you to promise.”
“Fine.” She sighs, sounding completely put out. “I promise.” Her voice is small and I feel a twinge of guilt for putting her through this.
But then I push right past it.
“Okay, good. I’m calling to let you know I’m all right. I got your texts and I know you were worried but I swear, everything’s fine. I’ll be home soon,” I tell her in a rush of words.
I can’t admit the real reason I called her. That I was scared when I came to after I passed out—something I don’t really remember even doing—and found myself lying on the beach, two medics hovering above me and checking my pulse, cleaning my wound and making me yelp in pain. I was so disoriented and scared and I had no one. Absolutely no one to stand by my side and reassure me that everything was going to be all right.
I was alone. I didn’t even have my mystery rescuer to help me out. He’d ditched me the minute I passed out, I guess. The hotel employee didn’t catch his name; he had no idea who he was and neither did I.
They put me in an ambulance and took me to a nearby hospital despite my weak protests. Luckily I didn’t need stitches, just a few butterfly bandages to keep the gash closed and my hand wrapped in white gauze and a weird fishnet-looking covering that kept everything in place. They put me on antibiotics and pain meds, filling the prescriptions right there in the hospital pharmacy before they sent me on my merry way.
It had been a terrifying experience. So horribly real, when I rarely, if ever, have to deal with the real world. It’s as if I’ve lived my entire life playing pretend and when shit finally got ugly and I couldn’t run, as per my usual mode of operation, I didn’t know how to handle it.
That’s why I reached out to Rose. I needed to hear her voice, needed her to ground me and remind me that I do have someone I can count on.
And right now that person is also super pissed at me.
“You’re damn right I was worried. I know you’ve done this sort of thing before, just … taking off on a whim and not telling anyone, but you haven’t answered my texts for days,” she says, stressing the last word.
I hold in the sigh that wants to escape. She’s exaggerating, something she’s really good at. “It’s only been a couple of days,” I point out.
“It felt like longer. I cried last night, Lily. I didn’t know where you were, my hormones are all over the place and Caden held me, trying his best to console me while I cried over you.”
And I thought Violet would lay on the guilt. “You’re not even an official mother yet and look at you. Making me feel like shit for not contacting you sooner.”
“I am an official mother, even if this baby isn’t born yet,” she says with a huff. “So yeah. If I want to make you feel guilty, I have every right to do so. And just to let you know, Violet’s been beside herself, too. I can’t believe you won’t let me tell her you called.”
“You absolutely cannot tell her,” I reiterate, my voice firm. I’m going all mean-big-sister on her and I don’t care. I have to protect myself. “She might mistakenly tell Daddy, and then the shit would really hit the fan.”
“What does it matter if he knows? What’s he going to do? Demand you come back home? You’re a grown woman—you can do whatever you want.”
Yeah, all while spending Daddy’s money. Well, it’s my money, too. All three of us have our own trusts, but at least Violet works for Fleur. And Rose used to. Not me, though. I’m the lazy sister. “Maybe,” I say, my voice faltering. He’s not the one I’m worried about finding out where I am.
It’s Pilar that I’m hiding from. And I can’t tell Rose that. Then she’ll start asking questions. Questions I can’t answer.
Correction: more like questions I don’t want to answer.
“Are you at least going to tell me where you are?” she asks softly. “And when exactly are you coming back home?”
“It’s best you don’t know. And I’m not sure.” I lean my head back into the pillows and close my eyes, exhaustion settling over me. Maybe it’s the pain meds or the antibiotics. Maybe it’s the scary adrenaline-filled rush I went through from the day’s events. All I know is that I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the need to take a long nap.
“Oh, come on! Why are you being so mysterious?” Rose is yelling. And she never yells, not really.
“Rose, it’s …” I can’t tell her what I did. Hacking into someone else’s life and then trying to mess with it. And I’m not just talking about Pilar, either—there are other people involved, not just her. “It’s complicated,” I say lamely, bracing myself for another outburst.
But one doesn’t come.
I remember the last conversation I had on the phone and how much it freaked me out and spurred me into action. The minute I hung up I grabbed my suitcase and threw in my clothes, booked my ticket to Maui and got the hell out of there. I was scared. When I think about it, I’m still scared. I want to tell Daddy what I found but I’m afraid he won’t believe me. I’m the little girl who cried wolf one too many times in his eyes. He’d believe whatever that slut Pilar had to tell him before he’d consider listening to me.
“I know we all have our secrets,” Rose says, sounding much calmer. “We all have something to hide. The longer you hide those secrets, though, the more they’ll consume you. And eventually strangle you.”
I remain quiet, absorbing her words. Since when did my baby sister become so wise?
“Just think about that. I’m always here for you. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen,” she says.
Tears threaten and I squeeze my eyes shut harder, willing them to retreat. I refuse to cry. I’m not a crier; I never have been. I laugh away my pain. It’s easier that way.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice raspy, and I swallow hard. I wish I could tell her. But not yet. If I say something now, I could be crying wolf again. This could all fizzle out and be forgotten.
Probably not. But stranger things have happened.
“Lily, please …” Her voice drops and I know she’s dying for me to say something, reveal a little piece of anything so her curiosity is appeased. I know she worries.
I shake my head and sniff. “Don’t push, Rosie.”
She practically growls when I call her that and I start to laugh. “You’re so stubborn,” she mutters.
“Takes one to know one,” I throw back at her, and we both start to laugh. I’m so thankful for the change in conversation she has no idea.
“Tell me how you’re feeling,” I say before she can try and get something else out of me.
“I’m fine. Just sick of feeling nauseous. This baby is mean.”
“Sure. You’re going to love and spoil that baby so much when he or she is born,” I remind her, relieved that we’re talking about the baby. My chest warms and the tears fade. I’m filled with a sense of peace at the thought of becoming an aunt in the near future.
A baby to hold and love—and then hand back to Rose when the little munchkin starts fussing or becomes stinky. It’s the perfect situation. I can love on a baby but it’s not my baby.
“I think it’s a boy.” Rose’s voice drops lower. “I hope it is. I want a sweet baby boy who’s handsome like his daddy.”
“Gag,” I tell her, making her giggle. “Get over your man. He’s just all right.”
“Whatever, you jealous hag.”
She’s teasing me. We’ve called each other far worse, but there’s something about her words that hurts. Cuts me straight across the heart.
Maybe because what she’s saying isn’t too far from the truth.
“I didn’t know getting married would turn you into such a bitch,” I jab right back.
“Please. You’d better clean that potty mouth before your nephew is born. I’ll have to bust out the swear jar,” she threatens. “Between you and Caden, the child’s ears will burn from all the cursing.”
“Give me a break. You’re no saint.”
We continue on like this for another ten minutes and it feels good. Normal. I don’t feel so lonely, holed up in my hotel room in the middle of a tropical island, hopped up on pain medication and depressed.
The phone call comes to a halt when Caden arrives home, though. I can hear his deep voice, hear him ask how she’s feeling, and then everything becomes muffled because he’s kissing her. He’s kissing her and she’s enjoying every minute of it and I can hear their little murmurs of love and my heart lurches. It feels like it’s going to leap out of my chest and run off in a jealous rage, which is the stupidest thing ever, but there you have it.
Long after we hang up, long after I take another dose of pain meds and crawl into bed in nothing but my panties, wincing when I try and pull up the comforter with my injured hand like an idiot, I stare at the ceiling and ponder over all the mistakes I’ve made in my life so far. There are a lot of them. A ton.
And I wonder if I can ever find even a glimmer of what my sisters have.