Page 72 of Promise Me Nothing
Lucas’ biggest fear in life has always been that he will just be a vessel for other people’s desires. That the only thing people care about is his money, and not him.
He brushes it off. Pretends that isn’t the case.
But I’ve known him since we were tykes. And I knew that’s where I could hit him that would make him reconsider. Make him turn his head.
And he did.
I promised him back then that I would keep an eye on things. Watch over what was happening with Hannah. Let him know if he needed to know anything.
And I did. For the most part.
I got yearly updates on Hannah, her path in foster care. I saw how she was noted as being aggressive, sometimes violent. That she had substance abuse issues and lied.
I’ve always felt like seeing those reports has validated the choice I made to encourage Lucas not to reach out to her.
It wasn’t until Ivy got sick and I confided in him that she needed a bone marrow transplant that Lucas started making suggestions. Coming up with ways to help Ivy, the sister he’s watched grow up from afar. Suggestions that he might have the bone marrow match for Ivy.
Or that Hannah might.
I couldn’t do it, though, and I told Lucas not to, either. “Ivy will be fine,” I’d barked at him, as I sat in San Francisco and assumed the first doctor’s assurances were worth their weight.
But then he brought Hannah here anyway.
Against my wishes. But apparently with perfect timing. Because Ivy might need her.
I never expected to have the reaction I did.
To like her.
To want her to be around.
To think she’s beautiful.
She must take after her mom with that hair and her long, lean frame.
So I face two dilemmas, now.
One of conscience.
One of heart.
Do I continue to befriend her? Knowing I’ll keep falling for her? Do I use my own interest to push her close to Ivy, hoping for her to feel compelled to help?
Because that’s what the original plan was. What Lucas suggested to me. Back before he started to see Hannah as his sister, too. Back before she started to matter to him as a person and not just a conduit for saving Ivy.
I look down at my phone, at the text I’m preparing to send off to Lucas.
Me: Tonight. Bonfire at the dunes. Time to welcome Hannah officially into the group.
I wonder if I’ll ever recover from how this feels. This intentional attempt to make someone feel like they belong so we can manipulate her into giving us something we want.
But I also wonder if I’ll ever recover from the way she makes me feel when she looks at me. From those soft eyes that are both so world-weary and so trusting at the same time.
Because I know that everything I’m doing will scar her deeply, prey on the most intimate of fears she has.
Instead of thinking about it any longer, I hit send and tuck away my phone.
I’m going to hell. But as long as I go down by helping Ivy, I’ll take whatever I deserve.
