35. Hayden
35
HAYDEN
“ S o, you think you’re ready to be married, huh?”
Penelope lifts her dark eyebrow at me as she lifts a champagne flute to her lips. “Really? You’re gonna do the big brother talk three months into being my brother?”
I laugh, enjoying the casual banter we’ve started since our meetup at the coffee place. “Actually, it’s been almost four months of being a big brother, and you are getting married tomorrow.”
Her smile widens as her eyes move over to her fiancé. “I am.”
“You ready?”
She nods, looking completely sure. “Yes. I am.” She grins, taking a drink. “I’ve been ready for this for a long time.”
I look around the crowded ballroom of hotel number one. The grand opening is tonight, and I’ve hired a party planner to make it a party to celebrate the opening of the hotel and the marriage of my sister tomorrow.
Everyone is dressed up, but I wouldn’t say it’s too formal. My eyes can’t stay off Lola. Her long, blond hair is down and wavy. She’s wearing a sleeveless, flowy, white floral dress that sweeps the floor but has a long slit up the side, showing off her long tan legs. Her beauty is effortless.
“And are you ready to get married?” Penelope’s eyes follow mine.
I straighten my tie and stand tall as I watch Lola talking to Vivienne and little Baz. “Soon.”
She smiles, taking another drink. Marriage had never crossed my mind before Lola, but now I think about it all the time.
“Who the fuck flies to Kansas from California in the winter?”
She laughs almost maniacally. “It’s not winter, you pussy.”
“It’s fucking close, and they’re calling for snow. On your wedding day.”
She looks happy. I haven’t known her very long, which is a really odd thing to say about my sister, but I can tell she wasn’t always like this. There’s pain hidden deep inside her, but she’s beaming tonight, ready to take that next step and me giving her shit isn’t going to ruin her good mood. “I’d marry him in the middle of a fucking tornado, or hurricane, or whatever the fuck. It’ll be fine.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her in for a cautious hug because we’ve only hugged a handful of times. “Yeah. It will.”
She’s quiet for a moment but then asks, “Do you think she was ever happy?”
“Our mom?” I don’t really need to ask. I know who she’s talking about.
“Yes.”
Why the hell are we talking about her? We’ve hung out several times since that first day and this is the first time we’ve talked about her since then. “I don’t know, but she wasn’t when I knew her. She was busy causing chaos and bringing as much pain as she could to others.”
“Yeah.” I pull back enough to see tears in her eyes as she looks up at me. “Why do you think she hated us so much?”
Okay, so maybe something can ruin her good mood. What the hell? I turn to face her straight on, holding her shoulders. “Don’t let her do this. You turned out to be this amazing, strong woman despite coming from that evil witch. She does not get to ruin your wedding for you.”
“I hear her.” It’s a whisper that makes my blood run cold.
“You what?”
“I hear her calling me her tragedy. I swear the happier I get the louder it is.”
“I thought we talked about that?” I tease, wanting so badly to lighten the mood, but that’s never really been my thing. Not until I met Lola. My eyes find hers across the room. I see her concern, but she doesn’t move to join us.
Penelope’s eyes fall to the floor. “I think it’ll always be in me, Hayden. Her calling me her tragedy, saying I'll hurt anyone who dares to love me.”
I swallow the bile creeping up my throat, thinking about her saying those same words to me. A six-year-old? Who the fuck hates a six-year-old? “Fuck her.” Her eyes lift to mine again. “Fuck. Her. Penelope.” I use my hand to gently turn her head toward Lincoln, who is definitely watching us and looking like he’s ready to punch me because of the defeated look on Penelope's face. “He loves you. He needs you. So do all the Sterlings. You haven’t brought tragedy down on them, you helped them heal.”
“Colt died because of me.”
She waves Lincoln off, calming him as she turns back to me. “What are you talking about?”
“He got drunk and pissed the night he died because I broke up with him. Because I was in love with Linc. I cheated on him with Lincoln.” She looks guilty, and I hate it for her. Guilt can do horrible things to a person.
“So, you always loved Linc?”
She nods. “I loved Colt too. Just differently. And now, I'm getting married tomorrow where he died, which was my fault. But this was my idea, and now I'm freaking out.”
Women.
“So you forced him on that boat?”
“In a way. Yes.”
“Nah, fuck that.” I take her hand and walk her outside, where it’s warm, despite it being a fall evening. “Look, Penelope. I don’t know the whole story, and I don’t know if I’d ever have the balls to say this to any of his siblings, but you’re my sibling.”
She looks at me with quiet curiosity. All I want to do is help her through this.
“He made that choice. He got on that boat. He drank. That’s not on any of you. Everyone makes him seem like a fucking saint.”
“He was,” she interjects.
“He was a man—barely.” I look in her eyes, not wanting to hurt her, but I think they all could use an outside perspective. “He was under pressure. He fucked up. He slept with someone else.” That is a fact, considering Baz is here. “He felt like shit, and he did a very human thing. And it is so fucking sad that he died, but that isn’t on any of you. You can’t keep living with this guilt.”
“Colt never made mistakes. I pushed him to?—”
“Sleep with someone else. How?”
She folds her arms, pissed at me for spouting the truth, and I get it. “He wanted to be perfect, and he snapped.”
“And that’s your fault?”
“No.”
“I’m being a dick about going back to Kansas, but it’s smart. You’re right. He should be part of your wedding. You guys need that closure. All of you. Because it sounds like you all loved him, and he loved you. And it’s shitty that he can’t actually be here.” I pull her in for a hug, wrapping my arms around her, being here for her in a way I couldn’t when we were growing up, but that I imagine I would have been. “And we are going to party. And celebrate. Because you are loved, Penelope. And you deserve to be.”
I’m surprised to feel tears on my chest, but I just hold onto her as she sobs into my shirt, her words muffled. “Why did she have to take you away from me?”
“Technically, that was the state of Kansas.”
Her cry turns to quiet laughter as she looks up at me, her mascara slightly smudged. “Lola’s right. You’re kind of funny.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I have no idea how any of this was possible, but I'm really glad you’re in my life now.”
“Me too. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She smiles and squeezes me before shoving me away. “I was happy tonight, you dick.”
“You’re the one who brought up Slate.” I smile back at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and walking her back inside the hotel.
“Hayden?”
We barely make it through the doors before she stops. “Will you give me away tomorrow? You know, since I'm a bastard child and all?”
I roll my eyes, pulling her tighter to me and laughing as I shake my head at this girl I didn’t know even a year ago, but I’ve finally gotten to know over the past few months. She’s moody and smart. Funny and caring. She’s everything my mother wasn’t, and I'm lucky to know her.
Tomorrow, I’m walking her down that aisle, but I'm never giving her away.