Chapter Eighteen

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Letting Go

I find them sitting at the kitchen table. Kacey is curled up on Trent's lap with her fingers coiled in his hair, laughing as Dan pokes Storm's swollen belly repeatedly, trying to make the baby respond. She's due in two months now and she's as beautiful as ever.

"Livie?" My sister's watery blue eyes stare at me with a mix of surprise and worry. "I thought you weren't coming home over your break."

I swallow. "Neither did I, but . . . things changed."

"I can see that." She stares pointedly at my outfit. I never did go back to the dorm to change. I simply jumped in a cab to Newark and went on standby for the first available flight out to Miami. It took ten hours, but here I am.

Home.

Where I never should have left to begin with.

No one says a word, but I feel their eyes on my back as I walk over to the pantry. I pull out the bottle of tequila that Storm keeps on the top shelf. For emergencies, she says. "You were right, Kacey." I grab two shot glasses. "You were right all along."

"I missed the sound of seagulls," I murmur.

"Wow, you really are f**ked up."

With a snort, I fling my hand in Kacey's direction and end up slapping her in the cheek. Last night, with the bottle of tequila and two shot glasses in hand, I had silently walked out the patio door to the deck. Kacey followed me, pulling up a lounge chair next to mine. Without a word, she started pouring shots.

And I started pouring my guts out.

I told my sister everything.

I admitted to every detail of my last two months, right down to the most intimate and embarrassing. Once the truth started flowing, it cascaded out of me in an unstoppable torrent. I'm sure the booze helped, but being around my sister helped more. Kacey just listened. She held my hand and squeezed it tight. She didn't pass judgment, she didn't scream, she didn't cast disappointed sighs and glances or make me feel embarrassed. She did scold me for not using a condom, but then quickly admitted that she shouldn't be throwing stones.

She cried with me.

At some point Trent came out to stretch a duvet over us. He didn't say a word, leaving us to our drunken, sobbing stupor. And as the first hints of sun came over the horizon, completely drained of every last emotion, every secret, every lie, I passed out.

"Can I see that picture again?" Kacey asks softly.

I hand her the four-by-six from my purse, so thankful that I had it on me when I left. "I can't believe how young they are here," she murmurs, tracing the lines of the image as I had. I smile to myself. Three years ago, Kacey couldn't even glance in the general direction of our parents' picture.

Waving it at me before she hands it back, she murmurs, "Proof that he cares a great deal about you, Livie. Even if he is a train wreck."

I close my eyes and heave a sigh. "I don't know what to do, Kacey. I can't go back. I mean . . . he's engaged. Or he was." Is he still? I'd received a where-the-hell-are-you text from Reagan earlier. After explaining that I was back in Miami, we shared a few messages, but she had no information for me. Or she didn't want to tell me, other than to say that she hid out in Grant's room all day because there was a lot of screaming and yelling.

That made me start worrying about Ashton more. What if he's not with Dana? What will his father do to him? Will he use whatever he has over his head?

"And he's definitely a train wreck," Kacey repeats. "He needs to clear the tracks before he can move on with anyone, and that includes you."

Just the thought of it stirs an ache in my chest. She's right. Whatever Ashton and I had, I have to let it go. As much as I want to keep trying, to stay close to him while he battles whatever demons he needs to battle, I can't keep doing it. Not like this.

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