Page 40 of Losing Ansley

Caroline: Holy shit! I'm going to have to tell Sebastian. Maybe it'll bring out the competitive streak in him.

I laugh at her comment and wait for Liv to answer. She does, but it's right as Lincoln is coming back in the door.

Liv: I'm so jealous!

I shake my head, grinning, and look up at Lincoln as he walks into the bedroom, discarding his clothes again but keeping his boxers on as he climbs into bed.

"What are you smiling at, pretty girl?" He asks, and my heart flips in my chest.

"I was texting with Caroline and Liv," I tell him, and he hums as his finger runs down my spine and back up.

"I ordered pizza. It should be here in just a few minutes." At that exact moment, my stomach grumbles, and we both chuckle. Today has been a dream and the thought of him having to leave tomorrow leaves a brick in my stomach. I snuggle into him more, and he holds me tighter.

"I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow," I admit, and he leans down, kissing the top of my head.

"Me too, sweetheart. Me too." He sighs, and I plant a kiss on his chest. We can do this.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ANSLEY

LINCOLN ANDI are sitting on Dylan's balcony. All of us awkwardly staring at each other. We decided to do this before Lincoln drove back home today. I sip at my coffee, unsure how to start, but I've had enough of the silence.

"What do you want to know, Dylan?" I question, and his eyes volley between Lincoln and me.

"What happened that day? You don't have to tell me the details, but no one talked about it. I know Ivy drowned, and you almost drowned, and Lincoln was able to save you." I exchange a look with Lincoln before squeezing my eyes shut.

"Ivy and I were jumping off the two big rocks into the lake. She jumped off and never came back up. So I jumped in, and I could feel her but couldn't get her to come up. I kept screaming for help and pulling at her. I finally realized it was because her foot was stuck between the rocks, so I tried to swim down to get her foot out. The next thing I knew, I was in the car being taken to the hospital." I say it all robotically because it's the only way I can. I open my eyes again, and Dylan stares at me in horror while Lincoln has detached.

This is how we used to handle things but not anymore. I want to sit in Lincoln's lap, but it's still weird, even if Dylan does know. So, I sit next to him and grab his hand. Life returns to his eyes, and he brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. He takes a deep breath and tells his side of it.

"I heard Ansley screaming. So I ran to the water as fast as I could. She must have gotten Ivy's foot loose because I didn't have a hard time getting Ivy out. I grabbed Ansley first and threw her up on the rock. I wasn't sure if she was okay, but when I got Ivy. Well, I knew." Lincoln states, and a sob catches in my throat. Lincoln runs his finger up my arm, and Dylan watches us with a hand over his mouth.

"After that, I wasn't allowed to step foot in the Holloway house again," I tell him, and Dylan tilts his head in confusion.

"You always hung out in Lincoln's room with us," Dylan states, and I huff.

"Yeah, because I'd climb the terrace and crawl through the window." I remind him, and Dylan rubs his jaw like he's thinking back.

"I never realized that's why you did that." He admits, and I shrug.

"Yeah. And if you and dad went to one of your football games or something, mom would usually leave me home by myself. At the same time, she'd see Ms. Holloway, and I hated being home alone. So, I'd hang out in Lincoln's room even if he wasn't there. He always kept his window open for me." Lincoln's hand tightens around mine.

"As I got older and started talking back, mom would grab me, scream at me, and leave bruises on my arms. Dad just ignored me altogether because he couldn't control me." Dylan stands and begins to pace, running his hand through his hair.

"How the hell did I not see this? And you had bruises? Why didn't I notice?" He looks up at the sky in frustration. "Rose was right." Lincoln and I exchanged a look but decided not to comment on that.

"I have a theory," Lincoln states, and we both look at him.

"You do?" I ask. Lincoln looks at Dylan.

"Your dad kept you running ragged. You played football and baseball. You were in so many extracurricular activities it was ridiculous. He pressured you to take as many AP classes as you could. On top of that, Ansley and I weren't very forthcoming with any information, so it was easy to keep you in the dark. It's not that you were self-absorbed. It's that you were completely overwhelmed. You were trying to survive just as much as we were."

I think of Lincoln's explanation. He's right. My dad knew what he was doing.

"That may be true but to not notice my sister and best friend being miserable." He pauses and shakes his head. "What about you, Lincoln?" He asks, and Lincoln sighs.

"Well, the first time my dad ever hit me was the day after Ivy drowned. My parents blamed me for not saving her even though there was nothing I could have done. But they never forgave me. My dad was usually pretty good about not leaving marks on my face, but it did happen occasionally." Lincoln explains.

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