Page 11 of No Turning Back
I scoff. “I’m going to find out in thirty days anyway, so you might as well just tell me.”
Her jaw clenches. “Drop it, Quinn.”
Something in her voice makes me back off. I raise my hand in surrender. “Alright.”
At the house, she invites me inside, but I shake my head. “You’ve got your letter. I’ll let you read it in peace.”
I don’t wait for a reply. I back out of the driveway and drive straight to Kate’s place.
When I knock, the door swings open to reveal Aiden.
We haven’t really spoken since our little blowout. The air between us is uncertain.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly.
“Hey.” I walk past him as he steps aside to let me in. “Is Kate here?”
“She had her group,” he says. “Won’t be back for another hour.”
I nod, but don’t leave. “You got coffee?”
“Yeah.” He heads toward the kitchen. “You want a cup?”
“Yeah,” I say again, not wanting to be alone. Not tonight.
He pours me a mug and hands it over. “Quinn…”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry. About what I said. About being a jerk.”
I smile, teasing to keep it light. “You’re always a jerk to me.”
But Aiden doesn’t smile. “You’re like the sister I never had, and I hate the fact that I made you feel like you had to leave.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” he says, softer now. “Markus is my best friend. Butyou’remy family. And I should’ve had your back.”
I open my mouth to say something, anything but instead, I burst into tears.
Full on, shoulder-shaking, nose-running, ugly crying.
Aiden looks like he’s about to faint. “Oh my God, I broke you. Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry. Is it me? It’s me, isn’t it? The stupid therapist said I should try to see it from your side, I was wrong, Quinn, I’m so sorry-”
I shake my head, laughing through the tears. “It’s not you.”
“Then what-?”
“I might have a sister,” I say, voice trembling. “And she may want nothing to do with me… except to take my inheritance. Because my dad didn’t even know she existed. And now he’s dead.”
“Quinn,” Aiden murmurs, pulling me into his chest.
I try to resist, out of pride, out of habit but the grief is too heavy. I crumble, burying my face into his shoulder as the tears stream down.
“I can’t believe he’s dead,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.
Aiden just holds me. No advice. No interruptions. Just the quiet, steady comfort of someone who’s finally figured out how to justbethere.
