Page 137 of Promise Me Nothing
My shoulders drop at Lucas’ words. My hands set my plate on the counter, and my eyes well with tears.
I shake my head, though it isn’t in denial.
It’s in disbelief.
How can this be the reality of the world I live in?
My parents die.
My brother dies.
I live in foster care.
And then I find out that my dad had an affair that produced a half-brother.
That’s enough. That’s all I can take.
Because if that’s all there is, it means I can believe that my dad made a mistake one time.
That he hurt my mom but they worked through it.
Now, my dad is in questionagain.He hadanotheraffair. With Vivian Calloway.Yearsafter the one that produced Lucas.
I let out a long breath.
“I know it’s hard to believe…”
“I believe you.” I shake my head, the broken pieces inside of me accepting exactly what they are. I run a hand across my face, wiping away the tears that have traitorously broken free. “Did you get tested?” I ask, looking at Lucas. “To see if you were a match.”
His shoulders drop and he nods, a sad expression on his face. “Yeah. Wyatt paid a private company to test me since Ivy doesn’t know about me.”
There’s a beat of silence, a moment where all I want to do is curl into a ball and cry my eyes out.
For me.
For Ivy.
For this stupid fucked up situation.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Lucas says, stepping forward. “We’ve had a lot more time to absorb it than you have. It’s totally understandable if you need some time…”
“I’ll do it,” I say, cutting off his little speech. I’m not interested in what Lucas has to say. I’m not interested in words that are meant to soothe when I feel like just a single touch will light up my every nerve with pain. “Whatever Ivy needs. Just tell me where to go.”
When I look at Wyatt, I see he’s on the verge of tears himself, a small smile on his face. He takes a step towards me. Then another. And like the weak girl I am right now, I do nothing to dissuade him.
He steps into me. Wraps his arms around me. Pulls me into his body.
I can’t help but soak it in.
One more time.
Because I know this will be the last time I feel that safety that I once believed was possible. That bit of trust I now know isn’t true. The last time I’ll smell that bit of woodsy cologne he likes so much.
“Thank you,” he whispers, his arms tightening around me. “Thank you so much.”
My hands come up between our bodies and I slowly push away, taking a step back, putting necessary distance between us.
“I’m not doing it for you,” I say, my words caustic and bitter. “I’m doing it for Ivy.”
