Page 32 of When Stars Fall

My upbringing is on the opposite end of the spectrum. My parents doted on me and my sister, and we’re all very close. Wyatt’s already told me that I’ll never meet his parents, and he’s not even sure they’re still alive. He says he doesn’t care, but I find that incomprehensible.

“At six, I was pouring Baileys over my ice cream. At nine, my sister and I were being dragged into nightclubs with my parents. They were always after the next high—whatever that might be. By sixteen, I’d had enough. Isaac’s family was proof my parents were no good. They’re probably the only reason I’m not dead. Hired a lawyer, and I got the hell out of there.”

“No one tried to help you?”

“Child services came once in a while, but our parents convinced us we’d be worse off with a stranger in foster care. So we lied. Maybe we would have been treated worse in care. No way to be sure.”

“Why didn’t Anna leave too?” We’ve never delved so deeply into his family history before. A comment here or there, but an entire conversation has been impossible.

“She wouldn’t leave.” He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. “I think they guilt-tripped her into staying. Either way, she feels I abandoned her. Left her to fend for herself in that house.”

“Sometimes the best thing you can do is save yourself.” I run my fingers along his cheek. Lately, I’ve been worried about Anna. Wyatt doesn’t see it, but she’s become more erratic. Can’t keep any of her modeling jobs. The last time she came to our house high, she flew into a rage at Wyatt and left scratches on his face. Isaac had to pull her off and then he held her as she cried.

We lie in silence, and Wyatt buries his face in my neck. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

I squeeze him tight, and I hope my next comment lands in the spirit I intend. “You and Anna went through a lot as kids. It seems like she’s been struggling lately. Maybe she should talk to someone?”

He releases a deep sigh and flips off the covers. “I’m grabbing a Perc. You want anything?”

“No.” The days we see Tanvi and Kabir, I don’t indulge. I’m not as good at managing my ups and downs, and I hate feeling out of control.

Wyatt leans against the doorway to the en suite, a glass of water in his hand. “When I left, I let her down. I’m not doing that again.”

I sit up in bed to face him and hug my knees to my chest. The distance he’s kept is deliberate, and I realize I need to tread carefully. We’ll never see eye to eye on his sister, but I don’t know how to watch her get worse and say nothing.

“You and Anna are just really different people,” he says. “We should get to the gym.”

His misjudgment where she’s concerned isn’t new, but his version of protecting her is more like coddling. I throw back the blankets, and I pad after him into the walk-in closet.

Isaac and I take the Rolls-Royce to Tanvi and Kabir’s house in West Hollywood, while Wyatt jets off on the motorcycle to pick up Anna from her latest crisis at a photoshoot.

Since the night I met Anna at the club, she’s been trying to poke holes in my relationship with Wyatt. From snide comments to introducing him to a bevy of models to inventing any kind of predicament that needs his immediate attention, she’s happy to drive a wedge between us however she can. She hates how much he dotes on me, and I hate how much he indulges her bad behavior.

At the house, I help Tanvi set the table while Isaac and his dad sit in the living room discussing the latest cricket scores.

“I’m so glad we could all have dinner together tonight,” Tanvi says. “It’s been months since everyone was in LA. You and Wyatt have been out of the country, and Anna has been modeling. Isaac has been so busy too.”

Isaac has been in the city the whole time auditioning, but he avoids Sunday dinners unless the rest of us can come too. I’m pretty sure he lies to his parents about his availability. He drops in on them, but he never stays for long. As soon as he turned eighteen, he moved into Wyatt’s mansion, and he’s never looked back.

Lately, Isaac’s work situation has been dicey. Endorsements and commercials are his bread and butter, along with some tech investments. Sometimes I think he’d be happier if he got out of the Hollywood scene. Whenever I try to discuss his employment situation, he shoves a Xanax in his mouth and tells me I don’t need to worry about him.

Wyatt and Anna burst through the door. Anna is laughing with a lit cigarette in her hand. When she waves it around, Wyatt snatches it from her fingers, steals a drag, and then takes it to the sink to stub it out. As the smoke drifts toward us in the dining room, I realize it wasn’t tobacco they were smoking.

Kabir and Isaac emerge from the living room, and Kabir envelops Wyatt in a hug, then Anna. “So nice to see my Burgess children,” he says with a wink.

As soon as we’re seated and passing the dishes Tanvi would have spent all day making, Kabir begins his familiar round of questioning.

“Isaac, when are you going to bring a girlfriend to dinner?” At the head of the table, he heaps his plate with more rice.

Isaac rubs the back of his neck, and Wyatt jumps in. “Didn’t you say she was in Shanghai filming a movie?”

“Yeah,” Isaac says. “She’s out of the country. Next time.”

“It’s always next time. I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of your family,” Kabir says.

The only times I’ve met her have been in big groups at clubs or places where paparazzi lurk. None of the women he dates last very long, and his parents aren’t the only ones who never get to know them.

“I just want grandbabies,” Tanvi says with a wide smile. “If Isaac is not going to give them to me, I’ll have to count on Wyatt and Ellie.”

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