Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
AFTER
The bar was mostly empty. A couple of tables were taken by men in business suits—probably in town for work—and one guy sat alone at the bar. Aside from them, it was just us.
Ilana had arrived right on time and secured us a secluded table in the back. It felt unnecessarily ominous. She’d already ordered. A glass of red wine sat in front of her, and a club soda had been set neatly for me.
“Sorry for pulling you away from your plans,” she said, offering a tight smile.
“It’s no problem. I’m taking Atty out for touristy stuff—not that I’ve ever actually done any of it,” I added, nervous rambling taking over as usual.
“That sounds nice, actually,” she said. “Normal.”
I smiled. “Yeah. I like that about him.”
Her leg bounced beneath the table, and her hands twisted in her lap like she was trying to stop herself from cracking her knuckles.
“What did you want to talk about?”
Her eyes drifted from mine, and she took a small breath. “I wanted to apologize.”
That threw me. “What for?” It wasn’t like she’d orchestrated last night—or this entire trip. As far as I knew, she’d been dragged into it just like me.
“For a lot of things. But if I had to pick one, all-encompassing reason… I’d say it’s for letting you down—as your older sister.”
I stared at her. What?
“I know this feels out of the blue, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a long time, Noh. After Dad…” She paused, clicking her tongue. “We were all we had left. And I just…took off. It wasn’t fair.”
“Lan, I didn’t expect you—”
“That’s the problem,” she interrupted. “You never expected help from me. And that’s my fault.”
Her eyes were starting to redden. My chest tightened at the sight.
“You and I—we both knew what was going on, and we just chose to ignore it. But these scars”—she gestured loosely between us—“they’re never going to fade if we don’t talk about it. The mom scars.”
I swallowed, then gave her a small nod.
“It took me years to realize it wasn’t just me. That it was probably like that for you too. Not until you cut her off. And I didn’t understand just how bad it had been until the overdose.
“I felt relieved when you started modeling—the spotlight moved. I didn’t even register that it had just landed on you. And when I did, I lied to myself: you’re stronger, you’ll be fine. Then that fight happened.”
“Which one?”
“The one with the money.”
My heart clenched. Shame clung tight to that memory.
“Your face when I walked in—I knew it was serious. And I still didn’t do anything about it, aside from telling Dad, and—”
“You what?”
She bit down on her lip. “He never took me seriously before. But that time, I told him how bad things could get with her. That it looked like that had really hurt you. I don’t know if it helped or if he actually listened, but… I thought it did.”
My mind raced, trying to recall that period of my life. He had listened. That was when he started searching my room. When we had the talk.
“You two got a lot closer after that,” she continued.
“When Dad got sick, it was like you built this little fortress around each other. And it helped him. I saw that. So I stepped back. I didn’t mind that he left you in charge.
Honestly, I was grateful it wasn’t her deciding everything.
And when he asked if I was okay with it, I told him I was. ”
“He asked you? Before he did it?”
Ilana nodded. “He wanted to make sure it wouldn’t cause problems between us.”
“But it did, Lan.”
“Not because of you. I’m not proud of it, but seeing Dad sick—it was awful. I know it’s selfish, but you were there all the time. And if you were…then I could pretend it wasn’t really happening.
“It wasn’t a problem for me at all. I’ve never once resented you for it.
And you’ve never let me down. Ever. When you cut Mom off, I knew you were the one who set up my trust. And I know it’s been you managing the investments.
That’s why it keeps growing instead of trickling away.
She doesn’t see any of that—but I’ve noticed. You’ve done a really good job.”
My eyes prickled. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be looking for an atta boy, but fuck, it felt good. To know that everything Dad taught me had stuck. That I wasn’t just a burden. That maybe, somehow, I was actually helping people.
“I meant what I said the other day, too, about Matias. The moment Dad got diagnosed, he and Diego circled like vultures—arguing over who got what, who’d stay in charge.
You were the only one who didn’t give a fuck and were actually there for him.
It’s never been about money for you. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it either—the excess. It was too much.”
I looked at her, heart thudding, finally ready to ask the question that had haunted me from the start. “Do you know why he did it?”
“He never told me, but I can guess it’s because of that,” she said. “You were the only one who could handle it. And also, I assume he wanted to protect us. So I guess he must have believed something about Mom in the long run.”
“Did he ever tell you…?” I hesitated, biting the inside of my cheek. “Did he say he knew he wasn’t going to make it?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t. But can you imagine? Telling your kids you’re going to die? I don’t know if I’d be strong enough to do that either. I think I’d rather live in the fantasy for as long as I could.”
My chest deflated, because yeah, that made sense. I’d told myself the same thing a thousand times, but I’d never really understood it until now. This hadn’t been about me. It was about him. Just a man trying to survive his final days, holding onto the idea that everything would be okay.
Maybe I wouldn’t have done the same. But I could respect it. I could forgive it. I could let it go.
The soft fizz of carbonation bubbled in my glass between us.
“Do you think I’m like her, Lan?”
She reached out, her fingertips brushing the back of my hand. When I met her eyes, her expression was open and warm with understanding.
“No. Not at all. You’ve got a temper, sure—but it’s not like hers. And I can prove it.”
“How?”
“Has she ever apologized? Actually said the words I’m sorry to you?”
I didn’t need to think it through. “No. She doesn’t do that.”
“Do you?”
Of course I did. Some days, it felt like I was made of apologies. I understood remorse—regret. The big five. Just like Dad. You could only feel it if you actually cared that you hurt someone. She never seemed to care. Not enough to admit she’d ever done something wrong.
“Yeah,” I said. “But…”
“I catch myself acting like her sometimes too,” she said. “Doing things I hate myself for later. Stuff that keeps me up at night. But that doesn’t mean we’re the same. We feel bad. That’s the difference.”
“I guess so…”
“I think we just picked it up? Like a bad habit.”
That made sense. It didn’t make it better, didn’t erase the damage—but it made it easier to understand.
“Anyway, this wasn’t supposed to just be about Mom.
I think we both need to find a way to make peace with everything that happened.
What I really wanted was to apologize—for disappearing on you.
And to tell you that I mean it when I say I want to be here now.
This isn’t some empty promise. I want to help you with her. ”
My brows dipped. “With Mom?”
“This is a lot, Noh. I know you can handle it. But that doesn’t mean you should have to.
You shouldn’t be the only one managing her spending and tantrums. It’s not fair.
So here’s what I’m thinking—set up a trust for her, like you did for me, and I’ll take over.
I’ll deal with her from now on. You keep handling everything else—do what you do best. It doesn’t even have to cover everything.
Just for the foreseeable future. And if it gets to be too much, I’ll hand it back. We can take turns.”
I nodded slowly. “Like a tag team.”
She smiled. “Exactly. We carry it together.”
I exhaled a deep breath. One that felt like it’d been lodged in my chest since the beginning of time. “Honestly, Lan, that sounds amazing. But are you sure? Because she hates limits. And when you say no, she gets really fucking mean, and she—”
“She starts with the guilt trips?” she cut in. “I know. I can take it.”
I bit down on my lip, weighing it all. “Okay. How about you help me with something else too?”
Her smile brightened. “I’m all ears.”
“I need to figure out the properties—and that fucking boat. The upkeep and taxes are already insane. And it’s killing me knowing they’re just sitting there. It’s so fucking wasteful.” The lightness kept spreading, a little more confidence creeping in just from saying it out loud.
“Okay. Do we need to keep them?”
“Real estate investments are solid—especially in New York and Chicago. The others we can probably let go. But the boat,” I said, grimacing. “That fucking boat.”
She let out a quiet laugh, but it softened almost instantly as her gaze settled on me. Her smile faded into something gentler, her eyes warming with sympathy. Because she knew why this wasn’t so simple. It was Dad’s boat.
Her fingers drummed lightly against her knee, hesitating for a beat before stilling as an idea seemed to spark.
“What if we turned it into a business? Charter it out. Keep the crew, keep it moving. I know there are companies that handle everything; we’d just need airtight insurance.
It probably won’t turn a profit, but at least it won’t be rotting in a marina, draining money. ”
I blinked at her. “That’s actually a really fucking good idea.”
And then a tiny flicker of hope ignited.
Maybe this could work. Maybe I didn’t have to drown in all the responsibility if we split it right. We didn’t have to follow Dad’s wishes to the letter—maybe there was room to adjust, to breathe.
For once, it was starting to feel like I didn’t have to carry everything alone. She wasn’t checking out. She was stepping in.
And what a fucking relief that was.