Page 158 of All This Time
“Thank you, Joanne.”
“Anything for you, Laney. You’re family.”
Ellis comes bounding back into the room, and Joanne scoops her into her arms. “What flavor should we get?”
“All of them!”
“That’s my girl.” Joanne winks at me over her shoulder. “We’ll be back in a bit.”
The front door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving me and my brother alone.
Slowly, I step into the living room and take a seat on the couch, leaving a bit of space between us.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Rhonan stares at the now black television.
“Are you ready to talk like adults?”
His jaw clenches. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
“I’d just like to point out that you’re the older one here.”
Annoyance radiates off him. “Just say what you came to say, Laney.”
Taking in a deep breath, I prepare to say the words I’ve been practicing over the past few days. “First, I want you to know that Fletcher and I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you did choose to lie to me. Both of you.”
“Can you blame us? I mean, look at your reaction.”
He taps a finger to his chest. “Can you blameme? I found out one of my best friends is fucking my sister, and another friend was left at the fucking altar. I’m not exactly having the best week of my life here.”
I tilt my head at him. “Yes, it’s been a hard week for everyone. But are you ready to hear the truth, instead of being angry at Fletcher for something that he wasn’t responsible for?”
“What do you mean?”
I tuck my legs up under me and lean my arm on the back of the couch, propping my head up in my hand. “Fletcher and I have a history, Rhonan. A friendship that you know nothing about.”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“It started my sophomore year. Do you remember that game when he made that incredible catch and came over to our house for spaghetti afterward?”
Rhonan thinks for a moment. “There were several games like that, Laney.”
“Well, this was the one that started it all. Dad took him home after dinner, but he came back that night and crawled through my window.”
Rhonan grows serious. “Did he touch you?”
I roll my eyes. “No. He thought it was your window and ended up in my room by mistake. But he came back because he was running away from his dad.”
“Why?”
I look my brother dead in the eyes. “Fletcher’s dad used to hit him, Rhonan. And it happened more than once.”
He launches himself from the couch. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I tug on his hand, urging him to sit back down. “You haven’t been online over the past few days, have you?”
