Page 132 of Hoax and Kisses
He rushes toward his sister and scoops her up in his arms without a second thought, shielding her from the noise, then strides through the door and disappears from my sight.
I exhale a tiny breath, knowing he’s taking care of her.
But as thankful as I am that she’s got him, he’s no longer anchoring me. This time, when the current pulls me under, he’s not here to bring me back up.
My breaths turn shallow, my blood roaring in my ears as my hands shake.
“Everybody, please. Let’s settle down,” Rob shouts.
It’s pointless. Nobody listens.
My face is burning, my mind is reeling, my throat is closing.
“I have to go,” I whisper, then louder. “I have to go. I’m sorry, I have to go.”
I stand and wade through the crowd, dodging unhappy cries until I’m stumbling outside, gasping for air.
Matt is there, crouched in front of Daphne, rubbing her arms. His eyes snap to mine.
“Zoé?”
“I’m fine,” I say, staggering toward my car. “Stay there. Take care of Daph.”
He stands and takes a step toward me, but I hold my hand up, as if to push him away. “Daphne, Matt. She needs you.”
He calls me again, but I’m already in my car, driving away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
MATT
The past week has been rough.
I haven’t heard from Zoé in seven days, except for her brief response to the twenty texts I sent asking where the hell she was. “At the Butterfly Inn, as planned,” she said, but then asked for space to figure things out, telling me to focus on my sister.
Which I’ve been doing. But her silence has me worried sick.
The evenings are the hardest. She’s always on my mind. What is she up to? Does she miss me as much as I miss her? I can’t count the number of times I’ve driven to the hotel, only to turn around, respecting her demand.
Daphne has been asking me where Zoé is—why she’s not coming for dinner, why I look so damn sad—and I don’t have any fucking answer for her.
“Matt?”
I glance up at Lola, who’s watching me, her lips tugged down in a frown. “Sorry, what?”
“Where did you go?”
I tilt my beer to my mouth, sinking deeper into the Adirondack chair. “I’m here,” I mumble.
She gives me a kick.
“Ow!”
“Can you at least pretend like you’re happy to see your friends? We haven’t had a Friday night dinner in forever.”
Since Oli has been traveling so much with Charlee lately, working on their next docuseries, we’ve done a shit job of keeping up with the tradition we started a decade ago. So tonight, I dropped my sister off with my parents and took the night for myself. But my head hasn’t been in it.
I tighten my hold on my beer. “No, I’m glad to see you guys. I’m a bit distracted, that’s all. Sorry.”
