Page 87 of Tell Me You Love Me

I pull up in the first available parking slip I can find, but before I open the doors and let the rest of the world in, I cut the engine and turn to Alana first. “Do you feel like you have a different story to tell now?”

“Maybe.” She pushes the visor back up. “Or maybe I can take the old story and rework the ending. The original grates on me.”

“Is that why you never agreed to the deal?”

“My mom’s story is about you, Tommy.”

My heart simply fucking stops. Dead in my chest, and yet, impossibly, butterfly wings bat around in my stomach. “What?”

Alana tries to lean between our seats to do that thing moms do—theshut the hell upeyes that never fail to silence a child—but I press my hand to her chest and move her out of the way so I can be the one to look at him. “Your mom wrote a book about me?”

“Tommy—”

Franky shrugs. “She didn’t name the guy your name. And she didn’t name the girl her name. But she wrote about a fighter who had a twin brother. And how they were her best friends and how the girl moved to New York and had a baby and?—”

“Enough.” Alana fists my hair and yanks me back. Then she meets her son’s eyes and silences him with a single look. Unsnapping her seatbelt and pushing out of her door, she comes around and opens his, nervously fixing his collar while mourners watch every move we make. Every breath. Every shift of her hands. “This probably won’t be fun, okay? But you don’t have to leave my side, not even for a single second. If someone tries to talk to you or tries to ask you to come to them, and you don’t want to, you can say no.”

“Can I stand with Chris sometimes?” He scoots across the seat and dangles his legs out the door, and even with an aching heart, I come around and become their guard, shielding them from the masses while they get themselves organized. “But I want to be with you, too.”

“Sure, honey. We’ll bring Chris wherever we go. And Tommy, too. Because I need you, and you need Chris, and Chris needs Tommy, and Tommy…”

Needs Alana.

What thing do you want to tell me?

Will it hurt more than not knowing?

She clears her throat, tense as she helps him from the car and takes his hand in hers. Then she comes around, warmth filling her cheeks and emotion glittering in her eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay.” I set my hand on the small of her back and escorther forward. I’d rather drape my arm over her shoulders and tuck her against my side, but I know it’s not what she’d prefer. And today, and for the rest of my life, everything I do will be based on what she wants.

“Hey.” Chris wanders closer first. The bravest one, which is odd since social gatherings are his least favorite thing to participate in. He leans in and presses a kiss to Alana’s cheek—I will not smash his face. I will not smash his face. I love my brother, so I willnotsmash his face—then he offers a fist for Franky and grins when the boy taps it. “You look pretty good, kiddo. Clean up nicely.”

He pushes the glasses up his nose and tilts his head back to meet Chris’ stare. “You do, too. Did my mom pick out your pants also?”

He snorts, rubbing his mouth as though to hide his humor. Because God forbid anyone laughs at a funeral in front of hundreds of fuddy-duddies.

“I picked these out myself. But thanks for noticing.”

“Hi, Ollie.” Alana accepts his kiss when he leans in and brushes one over her cheek. Then Eliza steps forward, tension turning Alana’s body into stone.

It’s a rivalry we’ve not yet put to bed.

“Sorry your mom died.” She was always our youngest. Silliest. Last to mature and quickest to explode. She doesn’t offer a kiss or a hug. But she flashes a bright smile and taps Alana’s arm.Good game.“I’ll stop picking on you now. If Tommy’s happy, I’m happy.”

“And if he’s not?” She clutches Franky’s hand in both of hers. “What if I’m mean to him again next week?”

“Then I’ll hunt you down and teach you a rear naked choke. But you probably won’t be awake long enough to remember the steps.”

“That’s enough.” Oliver wraps his arm around his sister’s neck and pulls her out of the way. “There’s something wrong with you, Lize. I swear youlikecausing trouble.”

“It’s been a minute.” The final Darling sibling steps forward next. Platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes; Raquel is my type exactly,in theory.But we never went there. We didn’t even consider it.

Her lips glitter a perfect red, but when she leans in to hug Alana and kisses her cheek, none of the color transfers. “You look good, Lana.”

“You, too. How’s the city and life as not-a-doctor?”

She snorts, shedding the awkwardness ever present at funerals. “You heard that, too? Ya know, my boss is gonna bepissedwhen she finds out I’ve been faking my qualificationsall this time.”

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