Page 97 of Forbidden Protector

DOUG: R was late to class today. I told her off but she told me to “lighten up, boomer”, which I think is a colloquial term.

DOUG: R agreed to have tea with me this evening and bought me a bottle of that gin I like. When this is over, may I please adopt her?

DOUG: Worried about R. She looks tired today. When I asked, she said she was hungover. She misses her sister, it breaks my heart to watch her like this.

DOUG: R auditioned for the Spring Musical. You should have seen her, she was magnificent. If she doesn’t become a star, I will eat my own hat.

Tears drip onto the flaking vinyl seat, and I have to put the phone down. The pain in my chest dissolves into apathy, and exhaustion hits like a freight train. Everything is just so confusing and complicated; it’s just easier not to feel anything at all.

“I’m so tired,” I confess, more to myself than my sister.

She says nothing as she pockets her phone, hanging her head in shame.

“I thought something awful had happened to you…” I close my eyes and breathe out a sigh. “I know awful things did happen, but I didn’t know if you were even alive. I thought I was alone.”

“I’m sorry. I was only trying to keep you safe.”

“I know.” I open my eyes and see the regret etched into her expression. “But it still hurt. Knowing that doesn’t take that pain away; it just explains why it had to happen.”

She smiles sadly down at her own coffee. “When did you get so wise?”

“Somewhere between finding out I’m an heir to the Irish mob and now, I think.” I sigh humorlessly. “It was just the two of us for so many years and I never knew a thing.”

“Would you have believed me?” she says, taking a comforting sip of her drink.

“That’s not the point,” I counter. “If we’d never come to New York, would you even have told me?”

Her wince is more telling than her words. “Eventually.”

“I love you, Aimee, so much. But this is the problem,” I tell her, my voice trembling with emotion. “You don’t get to decide what I do and do not know.”

“I’ve only ever tried to do what’s best for you,” Aimee’s response is laced with her regret.

I shake my head, the weight of years of secrets and protectiveness too much to bear. “I know. But I don’t need you to. Not anymore. I need you to be my sister, not my mother.”

“I will, I promise.”

“I’m going to need some time to believe that.” My trust, once wholly and entirely my sister’s, now wavers in the aftermath of these revelations.

“You don’t trust me,” Aimee says simply, defeated but seeming to at least accept this reality.

I offer her a sad smile. “Would you?”

“What now?” She asks a little humbly. “Are you going back to Connor?”

I consider the idea. “I don’t think I have the energy to deal with him right now.”

“You could come with us. To the bunker, I mean.” Her words are rushed but well-intentioned. “I know you need time, but we’d be able to keep you safe, and it would help me stop worrying as much.”

“Thanks, but… I think I’m going to stay with Arnie a bit longer. He’s kept me safe this long.”

“You trust him?” she asks hesitantly.

I shrug, surprised that the answer comes so easily. “I’m probably going to marry him.”

“I heard what Connor did. You know you don’t have to go through with it.”

I bite my tongue. She doesn’t know the consequences, what will happen if I fail to marry Arnie. Even if she did, I’m not sure if she would want me to. After everything that happened between them, I’m not sure whether Annie would celebrate financially crippling our brother.

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