Page 69 of Unraveled

“Because I finally see how much I’ve hurt you. You got through to me that day, and…” He seemed reluctant to finish.

“And?”

“And I don’t want to scare you anymore.”

The breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding came out in a whoosh. “That would be ideal.”

“I’m going to get better,” he said, staring down at me, and if I didn’t know better than to trust him, it looked like there was actual sincerity in those dark as sin eyes that just a year ago had me pulled into their depths. Right now, his expression was completely earnest.

“Don’t just do it because of me. Do it for yourself.”And for any other girl that you may date some day. Or blackmail, you ass.

He nodded.

Because I couldn’t stand not to know. Because I was nervousnotto know, I asked, “Where will you be in the fall?Afterrehab?”Oh, God. Did something just flicker in his eyes?

“I’ve got a scholarship to Baylor, so probably there. Even if the restraining order goes through, my dad has pull.”

Relief washed through me, not even caring what that meant. All I knew was Baylor was at least a couple of hours away. There’d be some distance.

“Well, good luck.” I started to push the basket away. “Ireallyhope you get better.” Foreveryfemale’s sake I did.

Rushing then to leave him behind, I was just exiting the garden center when I saw Annie up ahead, and her eyes narrowed past my shoulder before they blazed in anger.

Shit.

Chapter 22

NIC

My index finger slid around the edge of my mobile, absently tracing the smooth black edges as I waited in the seat I’d found in the airport baggage claim. My head was full today, but it wasn’t the hustle and bustle of everyone rushing around me as they met family and grabbed their bags that had my attention here. Nor was it the same excited haste everyone was functioning on back in Breaker Ridge as they prepared for graduation and their families coming into town.

Just more people I’d be subjected to meet as I played pretend. Like I wasn’t completely fucked up inside.

That in itself would normally be enough, but it was my father’s arrival that truly had my mind occupied today. It felt like ages since I’d seen him, and that trip to Greece where we’d parted ways still played through my thoughts on a daily basis. There were just as many questions as answers to our family’s past after my time there, but I’d never forget that the key to all of it was Aunt Helen.

If I discounted all of the strained comments in rushed Greek while we were all gathered around mygrandmother’s deathbed, there were several other snippets of Greek thrown about during those two weeks, the use of the different language my cue to clue in each time. But there was one afternoon that was most prominent in my memory…

My mum’s parents had invited Dad and I and Uncle Stef’s family to their home a few times during our stay. I knew they were eager to have time with Dad and I since we’d never made the trip to Greece before, and while they had visited us in London at least twice a year while I was growing up, those visits had become less often after mum passed. With all of the hell and confusion going on in my life, it was nice to see them again, and if I wasn’t in such a deep state of depression, I would have soaked up the opportunity to take in their home and what their lives here were like.

Unfortunately, too much turmoil and rage still rolled through me after Anna and Enzo’s betrayal to appreciate it. I shut myself down instead, knowing it was better for everyone the less I tried to interact. I didn’t have much patience to play pretend, and with the purpose of our trip being a funeral, I was successfully slipping through most people’s notice.

They, however, were far from mine. The intrigue of my family’s past was the one thing that had caught my attention since we’d arrived, breaking through the torturous fog of my festering anger and resentment. Something had happened here in Greece years ago that forced my parents and my uncle and aunt to leave, and I was eager to know more. To know what had thrown me into a life in Europe instead of here.

I was seated in an armchair in my grandparents’ home after the funeral, a book open on my lap to deter others from trying to speak to me, but I could hear everything going on around me: My younger cousins chatting and playing a game at the table, Aunt Helen in the kitchen baking with my grandmum, then my dad, uncle, and grandpa talking outside, their voices carrying through the open window I was sitting beside.

“Thank you for making time to spend with us while you are here,” my grandpa said after a bout of laughter.

“Of course, Christos,” Dad replied. “I’m sorry Sophie and I never made the trip. She would have loved being back here again before she was gone.”

“She would have.” I could almost picture my grandpa’s nod. “But, we understood, and you were gracious enough to pay for us to come visit you in London many times. There are no hard feelings.”

“Sometimes, I feel like there should be.” Uncle Stefano’s voice became regretful as he switched to Greek, instantly drawing my heightened attention. “After Helen–”

“No. Do not think that way, Stef. My wife and I may have lost time with our daughter, but we have never held it against you. How could we?”

“I can think of many ways. My own father is definitely skilled at holding that grudge. I hated seeing how much it affected our mother.” His voice grew tired, grief blatant within his tone along with the guilt. “He only let us back home in the end for her.”

“Then let’s focus on that. Not the past we cannot change,” my grandpa said.

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