Page 65 of Confusing Cade
I took my phone off the coffee table and unlocked it.
“What are you doing?” Kyra asked.
“Just want to see if there are any open seats on the flights to Boston.” I scrolled through the phone and opened the Delta Air Lines app. “Lilly has a holiday concert at school in a couple days, and I want to surprise her.” I shrugged. “Why not?” I shifted away from Kyra, my attention divided between her and the booking information on the screen. “There’s a spot on a flight that leaves tomorrow, and it looks like I can tie a hotel to that if I need to.”
“I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
I nodded. “And getting away sounds like the best idea. I just need... I need to breathe, and I want to see how she’s doing at school. I know her winter vacation is next week, but I haven’t been able to see her at school in a long time.”
I didn’t have to add that until recently, visiting Lilly in Massachusetts had been woefully out of reach and way outside my budget. Kyra could already guess that. She didn’t need a reminder.
“I’m doing it,” I said and pressed a few buttons, taking the last seat in coach on a back row. “There. It’s done.” Smiling, I tossed the phone back onto the plush coffee table. “I’ll figure out the hotel and car later.”
Kyra nodded a few times. “I like this. It’s a great idea. Nothing like a change of pace to give you some perspective.”
I gulped, taking in the split-second decision, the impulsiveness of it both thrilling and terrifying. I wasn’t usually this reckless because in the past, I could never afford to be. But things had changed. I had a decent amount of money in my bank account, and if I managed it right, the stash would last me long enough to get my fashion design business off the ground. Maybe this trip was the start of something new, something that would be a life without the shadow of Cade Weston, and without the pain of betrayal. Dad would have been proud of that, at least. No more trusting in the family that had ruined ours. No more letting history repeat itself.No more.
“I guess the big question is, how many coats do I need to take?” I asked with a rueful smile.
CHAPTER THIRTY
BELLA
The air in Wessex, Massachusetts bit at my knuckles, sharp and unrelenting, a cold so piercing it almost dragged me back to Park City’s snow-dusted nights with Cade. Those moments under the starlit sky, his breath warm against my cheek, his laughter soft as we carved paths through the powder—it all flickered in my mind, vivid and raw, threatening to pull me under. I tugged my scarf tighter, shoving the memory down deep, locking it away. Winter here was no joke, nothing like the balmy South Florida breeze I’d left behind.
My boots crunched against the thin layer of lingering snow, and I squinted at the brick buildings looming ahead, their ivy-covered façades glowing under the late afternoon sun. Lilly’s dorm was in the farthest corner, a good ten-minute walk from the visitor parking lot. Still, I didn’t mind. The cold gave me a distraction from Cade’s accusations, from the icy detachment in his eyes that still clawed at my heart.
God, what a mess.
I’d landed in Boston the previous night. The Delta flight was cramped and turbulent, but the decision to come still felt right. Impulsive, sure, but necessary. Lilly’s holiday concert was tomorrow, and I hadn’t seen her in person since dropping her off at Parkview in the fall. Yes, the phone calls and texts weren’tenough anymore. I needed to see her, to know she was okay, and to remind myself why I’d fought so hard to keep her here.
Maybe I also need her to remind me who I am.
The dorm’s common room smelled like burned popcorn and pine-scented cleaner. A few girls lounged on mismatched couches, their laptops open, laughter bubbling over some shared joke. I signed in at the front desk, my fingers still stiff from the cold, and climbed the narrow staircase to Lilly’s floor. Room 312. When I knocked, my heart was thudding harder than usual.
“Lilly, are you in there?” I called through the thick wood.
“Bella?” Lilly’s voice came through the door, then she swung it open. There she was, my little sister, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing a Parkview sweatshirt and leggings. “Oh my God, you’re here!”
I barely had time to brace myself before she threw her arms around me. “Surprise,” I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder. Her hug was fierce and warm. “Thought I’d crash your concert.”
“You could have told me.” She pulled back, grinning, but her gaze sharpened as she studied my face. “Wait, what’s wrong? You look... I don’t know, sad.”
I forced a smile as I stepped into her room. It was small but cozy, with fairy lights strung above her bed, a stack of textbooks on her desk, and a corkboard pinned with photos—us at the beach years ago, her with friends, a candid of Mom laughing. My chest tightened. “I’m fine, Lil. Just missed you.”
