Page 7 of The Secrets We Built Together

Madison peered up at me through her eyelashes and I was taken back to the thirteen-year-old girl watching me through her bedroom window with tears rolling down her cheeks as I walked away from our family home for the very last time.

"That would be really good, thanks."

I propped my bicycle against the porch railing and silently headed into the house. Madison followed quietly behind me as I walked straight into the kitchen and started to fuss around the coffee pot, trying to buy myself a moment to straighten out my head.

I had no idea how to deal with this situation.

Part of me wanted to scream at her. To tell her that I deserved a better sister than her and the way she'd disowned me for so long just like our parents. But there was also a part of me that could see it from her point of view. She was just a kid, and sometimes the hardest thing to do is take the first step when too much time has passed since the last one.

I took a deep breath trying to calm down, my hands braced on the edge of the counter as my head sank in defeat.

Madison wasn't the person I should be angry with. I could have reached out too. I could have waited until she went to college and was finally away from our parents and made contact with my little sister.

But I didn't.

And right now, when faced with the consequences of my actions, I had no idea why that was.

When I turned around she was sitting at the kitchen table, her hands over her face and her shoulders shaking as she silently cried.

It was like no time at all had passed as I moved to her side and wrapped my arms around her.

"Don't cry, Madison," I whispered as I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It's okay. You're here now."

That only made her cry even harder and I felt a pinch in the back of my throat as I battled my own emotions.

Damn my parents for doing this to us.

I pulled out the chair beside her and took a seat, gently stroking her shoulder until she'd cried all her tears. When she looked up with snot pouring out her nose and her eyes all bloodshot and puffy, I grinned.

Madison had always been beautiful, but she’d always been an ugly crier.

"Don't laugh at me," she said, a small smile coming to her lips before she dug in her purse and pulled out a tissue to clean herself up with.

"I'm sorry. I was just remembering how satisfying it was to see you not quite as perfect as you always seemed to be."

She cut a glare in my direction as she delicately patted at her eyes. "I don't know what you mean. It was always you, Blake. You were always the beautiful, perfect sister."

I barked out a laugh at that. She couldn't have been more wrong. I was the rebellious child. If there was one word my parents never would have used to describe me it definitely would have been perfect.

"I think you're remembering a different sister," I told her flatly.

Her gaze moved across my face and up to my pink hair that was tied in a messy bun on top of my head.

"You have changed," she said quietly.

"Twelve years will do that to you."

She winced again and this time I felt guilty. It wasn't fair of me to keep pushing my hurt on her.

"So Paris? How long were you there?" I asked.

I would give anything to go to Paris. To walk through the streets and sketch the beautiful architecture, eating nothing but the best carbs in the world.

"I moved there straight after college and flew back yesterday."

I blinked in surprise as Madison looked away, her gaze darting around the kitchen before she stood up and went to the kitchen window to stare outside.

"It's beautiful here," she said. "So peaceful."

---