Page 205 of Sinful Lies

I blinked, his voice cutting through the fog in my head. “What?”

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “You said it was the nicest place around here. Doesn’t seem worth it to me.”

For a second, I wanted to slap him, the heat rising to my face.

Was he seriously making light of this?

But then it hit me—he wasn’t mocking me.

He was pulling me back.

As if sensing my realization, the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest hint of a smile. His gaze drifted ahead.

“You’re an ass.”

“Maybe. But you’re not passing out on me here, Jade. Not today.”

I rolled my eyes, but the edges of my mouth betrayed me. “You’re lucky I didn’t bring a shovel.”

His laugh was quiet, the kind that snuck under your skin and settled there.

My gaze wandered ahead, scanning the expanse of nothingness that waseverything.

I inhaled deeply, my chest tight as if it was trying to keep me together while my mind unraveled.

“What do you want to say to Stella?”

I crossed my arms against myself, not for warmth, but to stop the tremble that threatened to give me away.

What would I say?

I’d been talking to her in my head for years. Whispering to her in the dark when the world felt too loud. Telling her about my failures, my victories, the milestones she hadn’t been there for. Hoping—God,alwayshoping—that somehow, somewhere, she had been listening.

I swallowed, my throat dry, my voice barely audible. “I’d tell her I miss her more than anything I’ve ever lost. More than flowers miss the sun when it disappears, leaving them to wilt in the dark. And when she crosses my mind—which is every day—it’s the only time I feel whole, like she’s still here. I’d tell her that I’msoscared of losing her again. Not just her, but the memory of her. The way she looked, the way she laughed… the way her voice sounded when she teased me, or how she’d cross her arms and pout when she was mad. Every little detail. Every stupid, perfect thing.”

The words choked me, but I couldn’t stop them.

“I’d tell her that each day I feel her slipping further away from my mind. And it kills me. But not my heart. Never my heart. She’s there, always, locked inside, and I hope to God sheknows that. I hope wherever she is, she feels how much I love her. Because it’s the only thing I’ve got left to give her.”

By the time I finished, my chest was heaving, and the tears were running freely.

For once, I didn’t wipe them away. I let them fall, heavy and hot, as if they could reach her.

Angelo’s fingers brushed against mine.

I turned to look at him, but his eyes were already on me, warmer than I’d ever seen. “What would you say to your mother?”

I let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “Too much. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Try,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “For me.”

For him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’d tell her I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“For not being with her when she needed me the most,” I choked out. “When my sister died, I—I didn’t stay. I should’ve held her. I should’ve cried with her. But instead, I ran. I left her alone with all that pain, because I couldn’t handle it myself.”

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