“What was he saying?”
He finally turns, meeting my stare. “Why the hell does it matter?”
“Because it’s written all over your face!”
“He was talking about you!” he spews. His eyes squeeze shut in the wake of the words he already wishes he could take back.
Bewildered, I reply, “I don’t understand. Why was McDormand talking about me?”
Connor’s next words tumble out of him like a relentless barrage of pellets from a BB gun. Close range precise hits that hurt like hell. “Because he saw you at the pool, thought you were hot and decided to poke the bear also known as your brother. Drew went ape shit onhim, punched me in the process and loudly declared to all of us that his sister was off-limits.”
My face drops.
Dots connect.
Rage, like a tsunami, consumes me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
START AT THE BEGINNING
Gretchen
Connor reachesfor me but I’m already on my feet. I grab the pool bag and begin tossing everything inside.
“He was doing what any big brother would have done, Gretch. You were only sixteen.”
I drop the sunscreen into the canvas tote with athunk, take in a deep breath and whirl on him. My furious eyes are a poor cover for the hurt. This wound that’s been cut wide open, now bleeds in earnest.
“I wasn’t sixteen on that balcony, Connor. But it was Drew that made you leave me there, wasn’t it?” I don’t wait to hear the answer because it’s plain as day. I hurl the bag over my shoulder and storm off.
He’s on my heels a beat later. “Oh, so we’re finally gonna talk about this now?”
I stomp all the way to the elevator, Connor a step behind. Neither of us keen on making a scene in front of a bunch ofstrangers, I resist the urge to kick him in the balls and he keeps his distance so his balls are safe.
And Drew. Big brother or not, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. It’s one thing to step in when I was sixteen, but it’s another to meddle in my life when I’m an adult capable of making my own decisions.
Finally, I’m furious with Connor. For not being honest with me from the beginning. For allowing my brother to make decisions that were not his to make. For walking away from me. For cutting himself out of my life without my permission.
The elevator doors close, a racing director at the ready announcing, ready, set, go.
Connor charges ahead. “We’re going to talk about this, Gretchen.”
Indignant, I pivot to face him. “Did you ever tell Drew about that year?”
“Did you?” he replies, arms thrown out wide.
Silence speaks a thousand words, all of mine a bitter rebuke.
I didn’t. Full stop, I didn’t tell my brother that I spent a year talking to his best friend. That he’d become my best friend, too. That I’d fallen in love with him.
“You were my entire world,” I finally say. “And, goddammit, I hate how pathetic that makes me sound. I went into Drew’s wedding weekend so excited to see you. And things felt perfect and then suddenly they weren’t and then you kissed me and then you ghosted me for three years. And now I find out that it was all because of Drew!”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“It doesn’t seem all that complicated. I was there!” I shout.
“I was there, too! I remember every goddamn second. I’ve spent three years reliving it, torturing myself over everything I did wrong, everything I should have done diff?—”
