Page 41 of Hooked

I walk her out to a room off to the side of the ballroom. It’s going to be some kind of lounge for guests. I pull her down on the couch next to me.

“Kieran called just now.”

“Is he okay?” She blurts it out without thought. “Is it Murphy?”

“Yes. Well, sort of.”

She’s perched on the edge of the couch now, her hands gripping the wool of her trousers.

“They’re not coming, Sia. I’m sorry. Kieran said they were afraid to take him on the ferry since he’s been sick and didn’t want to leave him alone if it’s his last Christmas.”

She blinks a few times, taking in what I’ve said. The disappointment barely registers on her face before she’s replaced it with a small smile. “My cousins need to be with their dad. It’s a big ask having people come all the way to the island, and the cold can’t be good for Murphy. I’ll miss them, but it’s just bad timing.”

Like myself, she’s all too familiar with disappointment.

“I wish it were something I could be mad about,” she says. “It’s a shitty thing to say but being mad is easier. But Murphy’s always been so good to me, and my cousins too. I wish we could’ve gotten everyone together one last time, but life doesn’t always work out the way you hope it will.”

No. That is for sure. I want to hug her, but I’m not sure if that will make things better or worse.

“Thank you for telling me,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze. “I know this couldn’t have been easy for you.”

I tip up her chin.

“Sia, this isn’t about me.”

“Well, we’ll have fun tonight anyway.” She’s resigned herself already. Sealed off the wound. “And maybe we can still help Kristi and Sven find some happiness?”

It’s a distraction, but who can blame her. I decide to hug her and press my face to the crook of her neck. She’s stiff for a moment but then melts against me.

“It really sucks,” she says. “I don’t just mean my cousins not coming. I mean Drew’s overdose. Murphy’s cancer. All those assholes who didn’t treat you with the kindness you deserve. And all the wreckage these shitty things leave in their wake.” She tips her head up to look at me. To see how her statement lands.

“It does suck.” I can’t say more than that, not when she needs me to hold it together.

She cuddles against me for a little while longer and then lets out a soft sigh.

“I have to finish setting up and then get ready,” she says. “I’m really glad you’re coming tonight.”

She smiles and pulls a hand through my hair.

“Not with my hair like this,” I say, smoothing it down. “I need to go get pretty for you.”

“I can’t wait to see that sweater again,” she says, tugging down the hem of my t-shirt. “I’ll have to throw down if any lonely housewives get designs on you.”

Her hands fall to her side. “I mean unless they’re really hot and it’s consensual.”

A hint of defeat creeps back into her voice.

“You’re hot. I don’t suppose you have time to visit the kitchen with me?”

She blushes. “Not right now, but there’s always the cleanup.”

I press a kiss to her neck. “See you later.”

“Mm,” she says, leaning into my kiss. “I will.”

I watch her leave, and I think about what it will feel like when I watch her leave for the last time. My heart lodges firmly in my throat as I realize how deep my feelings for Sia are. She’s incredible: kind, strong, and generous to a fault.

It’s not that I thought she’d throw a tantrum when she found out her cousins couldn’t join her, but I thought she’d be angry, given how much the holiday means to her. And it’s her birthday, too. But no. She was sad to miss her family, but her empathy was for her cousins, not for herself. I wish any of my foster families had had a modicum of that perspective, of that empathy.

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