Page 15 of Just Say Yes

Not for him.

When I wasn’t working or walking aimlessly through the house, I found myself obsessing over the sticky note on my desk, the edges curling just a little more each day. Logan’s invitation still sat unanswered, and I hated the way it mocked me—bold and sure, as if stepping into something unknown wasn’t terrifying.

But tonight wasn’t about Logan. It wasn’t even about me. It was about figuring out what came next.

For all of us.

A small knock sounded at my door. My pacing stopped. “Yep, come in.”

The door cracked open and my sister Sylvie peeked through with a smile. “Hey.”

I gave her a small, sad smile back. “Hi.”

“Everyone’s waiting downstairs.” Sylvie, with her soft blond hair and dark-brown eyes, was the spitting image of our mother—not that I remembered Mom. I was only three when she left.

When he killed her.

I was still wrapping my head around the fact that my father had murdered our mother and let us believe she’d abandoned us all.

My intuition had always told me there was something dangerous about my father. It was what had warned me to quietly slip below his radar by overachieving and being pleasantly agreeable. I’d learned early that my father cared most about his reputation, and having a successful nurse for a daughter helped polish his image.

“It’s strange,” Sylvie said, looking around my room. “The walls feel quieter somehow.”

I breathed in deeply, understanding exactly what she meant. “I think it’s knowing he’s not ever coming back ... like the energy is finally at peace around here.”

Sylvie smiled. “Now you’re sounding like Hazel.”

My brother’s girlfriend, Hazel, was pretty witchy—she believed in healing energy and all kinds of natural remedies. She had healed my brother JP in countless ways, so it was hard to deny the effects of her methods, even if I couldn’t really explain them myself.

The corner of my mouth turned up. “She did sage the fuck out of the entire place.”

Sylvie breathed in a lungful of air and exhaled dramatically. “Well, I think it might have worked.”

Together we laughed as I sat on the bed with my sister, resting my head on her shoulder.

“You okay?” she asked.

Unexpected emotion prickled inside my nose. “I don’t know what I am,” I admitted. “I’m almost thirty, living at home. All my siblings have found their purpose in life and someone to share it with. Even JP, which is actually mind-blowing. Sometimes I look around and wonder what the hell I’m doing. I don’t even have a goldfish.”

Sylvie’s eyebrows bunched. “Do you want a goldfish?”

I laughed. “Not really.”

“I think,” she said, patting my knee, “if you want something different, do something you’ve never done. Find an adventure. No one is expecting you to be perfect.”

My father’s stern face flashed through my mind. Russell King expected me to be perfect, but he was gone.

My fingers slid across the crumpled sticky note before I handed it to Sylvie. “Logan gave me his number and asked me to watch him play rugby.” I wrinkled my nose, trying to gauge her reaction.

Sylvie looked at the paper, and I could tell she was hiding a small smile. “That could be fun. You haven’t really dated anyone in a long time ...”

Since Trent.

Sylvie didn’t need to finish her sentence for me to understand what she was saying. I hadn’t shared all the details, but she understood that he’d broken something inside me. Trent had violated my trust and my body in ways I was still coping with.

I hated him—not only for what he’d done, but for how his actionsstillhaunted me.

“Logan is Trent’s friend.” A sardonic laugh escaped me as I crumpled the sticky note in my hand. “What are the odds, right?”

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