Page 45 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
Chapter Seventeen
Anthony
I stay and watch Iris and Yuna. At first, I told myself I wanted to be there in case Yuna did something to upset Iris. But I soon got sucked into Yuna’s stories of Iris’s past at Curtis, the things I never knew about her. Vignettes of Iris playing Rachmaninoff or Chopin or Liszt unfurl like movie clips in my mind. And the promise Yuna makes to help Iris reclaim her past and music…
I want that for Iris too. I haven’t forgotten what she said about not wanting to be an imitation of some other great pianist, but making her own mark in the world. To be celebrated and admired and listened to because she’s awesome. Her eyes were sparkling when she told me. Even though she doesn’t remember that now, surely the desire is still rooted deep in her heart.
Shine like the brightest star on the stage—that’s what she was born to do. Just like I was born to love her.
But I fear what reclaiming the rest means—for us. I have no idea what she’ll do if she remembers everything. I was an immature piece of shit all those years ago. I still kick myself mentally every time I remember the way I rejected her love back then. The entire time I told myself it was for her own good, but in truth, it was me letting fear take the driver’s seat because I wasn’t smart enough or brave enough to let our hearts guide us. If I were her, I wouldn’t forgive me. I’d find someone else better…just like she said at Cajun Milan.
Maybe that’s why when we move to the living room, I sit next to Iris and hold her hand tightly, like as long as we have our fingers linked, I won’t lose her.
Iris asks Yuna more about the people they used to know at Curtis. Yuna obliges and starts telling stories.
“I still wish I’d never asked you to do that double date. I feel like C.T. was my fault. I always had great feel for guys,” Yuna says.
“Who’s C.T.?” Iris asks.
“Your first boyfriend at Curtis.”
Iris had a boyfriend?I guess it makes sense she would—she’s beautiful and talented. Any idiot would want to date her. But she was a virgin until we slept together, so it never crossed my mind that she dated seriously. But not even a hint of jealousy stirs. Hard to be jealous of a “boyfriend” who couldn’t close the deal.
Yuna continues, “I told you he was bad news, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“What did he do?” I ask, curious what could earn the expression of utter contempt that’s on Yuna’s face.
“What didn’t he do?” She rolls her eyes. “He flirted and paid attention to any girl who looked his way. Even when Iris was standing right there. What a jerk.”
Huh. Well, C.T.’s loss is my gain. And I’m never, ever letting Iris go, whether I deserve to keep her or not. I’d walk a thousand miles on my knees if that would redeem me, make me worthy of her.
“Please tell me I dumped him,” Iris says.
“Hell yeah, you did! You also told him to find himself a new accompanist for his cello sonata. I think he cried more over the fact you wouldn’t make him sound good than the breakup. He asked me next, and I told him I’d be more likely to strangle him with his cello strings.”
Iris and I laugh. The image of the tiny Yuna trying to garrote somebody is hilarious, not to mention impractical. Cello strings are too thick.
As Yuna continues, I wonder if having her back in Iris’s life means I can look for a way to permanently eject Byron from it. I’ve managed not to break his face—barely—only because he’s one of two or three friends Iris has. But if she has Yuna, why should I put up with him? I haven’t forgiven him for visiting her here, at my place, behind my back. It’s disgusting how he craves Iris, even if she doesn’t seem to notice it for some bizarre reason. The fucker isn’t exactly subtle.
My phone buzzes, and I reach into my pocket and pull it out. It’s Jill.
Finally.Anticipation pounds through me. She must’ve found something to call on a Tuesday. She’s been texting me on Friday to give me weekly reports—to let me know she’s still working on it.
“Excuse me,” I say, slowly letting go of Iris’s hand. I can’t take the call in front of everyone.
I move out onto the deck and shut the door behind me. “Yes?”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“No. Go ahead.” I walk to a chair by the pool and face the inside, watching Iris and Yuna. Mr. Kim is hovering unobtrusively. A rare talent. Iris laughs at something Yuna says. My mouth curves into a smile as well.
“You wanted to know how Sam became so rich. It’s your mother, Margot.”
My good mood starts to evaporate. Edgar and Harry told me Mother was involved. But at the same time, it isn’t like Jill to waste time with something I already know. “Explain.”
“She not only invested in his first development project, she championed it and helped him raise capital about nine—eight?—years ago.”
“So it wasn’t just money?” What the hell is really going on? Mother hates Sam’s guts.
