“This is who Vanya was after. She wanted to paint the walls black, but mother wouldn’t let her. The bathroom over there is where…where I found her.”
My voice broke unexpectedly, and I fell to my knees and wept as I did all those years ago with the guys. Kinsley ran over. Unearthing all the memories only made me miss Vanya more.
“I think the hardest part is I still feel her. It’s as strong as ever, and the connection is so fucking deep and real. I know she’s gone, but fuck if I don’t miss her. It hurts.”
Kinsley sat next to me and took me in her arms. She pulled me close and cradled my head against her chest as she rocked me. She didn’t speak; it wasn’t necessary, and because she was familiar with grief, she simply understood. Her hand rubbed my back in a soothing rhythm, and I clung to her. The tears flowed freely, and I let my grief pour out.
“My beloved, it’s okay. You’re safe with me.”
We sat for several long moments on my sister’s bedroom floor, holding one another, and an incredible peace filled me.
“You asked if my sister would have liked you. Without a shadow of a doubt, she would have fucking adored you. Loved you as fiercely as we do. She would have welcomed you with open arms, and it wouldn’t have bothered her that you loved all three of us.”
“Really?” Kinsley asked, her eyes filled with love.
My eyes met hers, and I continued. “Um, yes, in fact, she would have probably been your biggest cheerleader, especially with my parents. I’d like to think the two of you would have been friends. She would have been able to see how much you love me, Nik, and Alek, and it would have made her heart happy.”
“Is that her and Sebastian?” Kinsley asked. She’d caught sight of the picture. Her face erupted in wonder, and I nodded.
Picking it up gingerly, she exclaimed, “He was so young! How old?”
“Twelve. She was eleven. That was a good day. Would you like to see her favorite spot in all the world? Or well, one of them.”
“Very much,” she breathed, carefully putting the picture in the exact spot she’d taken it from. Her fingers traced over the diary, and I frowned, remembering the contents.
“Come on, then, I’ll show you. And then I’ll take you down to my favorite swimming hole.”
She gave me her hand to help me up from the floor, and I laughed at her effort. She dug her bare feet into the carpet and pulled, grunting in the process. My laughter caused Kinsley to laugh as well. Mother must have heard because she poked her head in the room.
Her eyes went wide, and Kinsley immediately looked terrified, like she’d broken some sort of rule. I scrambled to my feet, feeling nervous. I hadn’t told my mother we’d be coming in here.
She approached Kinsley, who had lowered her head and shook. My mother closed her eyes and whispered, “I haven’t heard laughter coming from this room in so long. It’s really good to hear. I think you and Vanya would have been kindred spirts.”
My mother then wrapped her arms around Kinsley and shrugged her shoulders. Once more, my sister’s presence drifted around me, making me happy.
Chapter 49
Kinsley
A Picnic For Two
Today was everything andmore. Seeing pictures of my Kings from babies all through their childhood and adulthood had been surreal. Meeting Vanya, even if it was only on the pages of memory books and photos, didn’t make me feel any less connected to her.
As we left her room, the moment’s heaviness lingered still. In sharing this part of their lives, he drew me further into their world. I couldn’t shake the sweetness of the picture showing her mock wedding to Sebastian. The families had gone all out, and something about the innocence of it all made it more solemn.
A subtle feeling tugged at the corners of my heart. The same one as when I’d looked at her portrait above the fireplace. Maybe it was because we were in one of the last places she had been in, but Vanya’s spirit permeated the garden. I had an inexplicable sense of connection to her somehow, and I allowed the feeling to settle over me.
A sudden somberness settled over both of us as he showed me where they buried her. The plaque in the garden held a simple message of remembrance to a woman I’d never know but whose presence I felt deeply.
“So Bash loved Vanya, huh?” I ventured.
“God, so much. It was sickening at times. Believe it or not, that man is a mad romantic. He was hopelessly in love with Vanya. So much so, he refused to even entertain the thought of another woman for years.”
“Are we talking about the same man?” I laughed as I tried to absorb this unexpected revelation. “That’s quite funny. The Torturer is a hopeless romantic.”
“Don’t get it twisted. He’ll sleep with them, play with them, but love them? That’s not something he’ll ever do. You see, he believes in soulmates.”
“Really?” I cocked my head to the side, trying to fit that in with the Bash I knew.
