Chapter 15
Fifteen
C ooper
Something is wrong. After a wild party-weekend in Nantucket with our friends, we’re officially on a small, chartered jet in route to Manhattan.
It only fits eight people, so tell me why Ethan and Sybil aren’t sitting together?
They’re not even looking at each other. I’ve been watching them the entire flight, waiting for their usual selves to return, for a shared smile or familiar look, but it never happens.
Ethan is in the back, and Sybil is up front.
His hood is tugged around his head, and he stares out the window all through takeoff.
Meanwhile, Sybil is busy chatting with our friends, putting on a persona of sunshine and rainbows.
I see right through that bullshit. Her eyes are weary, and her mouth is tight. Even her voice is strained.
Something is definitely wrong.
We land at the private airport, and everyone says their goodbyes, climbing into their hired cars.
Ethan gets into ours without carrying Sybil’s luggage over or even opening the door for her.
What the fuck? She frowns in his direction, then wheels her bag toward the little terminal building instead of the car.
Is she calling herself a cab? The thought makes me want to strangle my brother.
I don’t care what is going on between them.
He still needs to treat her with respect.
I leave Ethan with a scathing look and catch up to her. “Where are you going?”
“My parents’ place.” Her voice is clipped.
She’s got her hair piled on top of her head.
I love when she wears it like this. Her neck and jawline are some of her most feminine features.
She’s too pretty for her own good. God, it kills me that she’ll never be mine.
Every damn time I think I’ve made peace with it, she’ll do something as simple as putting her hair in a messy bun, and I’m suddenly sixteen again, obsessing over the idea of tracing her creamy neck with my mouth.
I shake the thought away. “Why aren’t you getting a ride with us?”
“I don’t want to ride with you,” she snaps.
“But we always take you home.” Our parents’ apartments are only five blocks apart, both on the north side of Central Park. It’s not much distance; there’s no reason for her to get her own car. Not unless something happened.
“What did Ethan do?”
She turns, lifting her sunglasses to rest against her hairline. Her eyes are almost as red as her hair, shimmering with unshed tears. My stomach swoops, and I itch to wipe away the proof of her pain.
“Ethan broke up with me last night,” she says.
Shock ricochets through me like a fucking pinball. “Ethan broke up with you?”
“Yes.”
Her voice is soft and defeated, a wisp of her normal self.
I shake my head, pressing my lips together.
It doesn’t make sense. He’s obsessed with her.
He loves her. He’s already picked out a ring.
I should know; I helped him choose it last month.
As much as I hated every minute of that experience, I want my brother to be happy, same as I want Sybil to be happy.
That’s exactly why I’ve supported their relationship from day one. Why I’ve kept my feelings buried.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She drops the sunglasses on her nose, freckles scrunching around the frames as she fights tears. “I’ll talk to you later. Go be with your brother.”
She turns, head held high as if she isn’t breaking on the inside.
White-hot anger torches through me. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Sybil and Ethan are the best people I know.
They’re supposed to be together. Ethan can’t just break up with her—that will ruin not only their relationship, but the balance of friendship between the three of us.
Not to mention our parents are going to lose their shit.
I storm to the car, practically ripping the door off its hinges as I open it and barrel inside. “What the fuck did you do?”
“So she told you.” His mouth is set in a grim line, but his eyes are heavy with pain.
My hands flex into fists involuntarily, and I force them to strap on the seatbelt instead. “She said you broke up with her.”
He nods.
“Un-fucking-believable.”
“Stop, Cooper.”
“You have this once-in-a-lifetime girl, and you’re going to throw her away?”
He shakes his head as if I wouldn’t understand, and that movement alone kills me. If I had her, I’d never break it off. But I don’t have her. He does.
Or he did.
“Tell me why,” I demand. My voice has gone dark, rage simmering on the other side.
He bristles. “It’s none of your business.”
Those five words spear me right through me, carving out my soul.
I don’t want them to be true. We’re all best friends. Sure, it’s not my relationship, but what they do directly affects my life. That makes it my business, even though deep down, I know it’s not.
The driver starts the ignition, and we’re off. Ethan doesn’t talk. He won’t talk. All through the silent drive, I keep my gaze pinned on him. I’m trying to read him, to understand what could’ve possibly caused him to break up with Sybil days after our college graduation.
Is he angry about it? Heartbroken over her? Relieved to be done with her?
The guy is an unreadable fortress when he wants to be. That’s the thing about Ethan. He knows how to shut down his emotions like a pro, a skill modeled by our parents. I’m not so talented.
A half hour of silence later, and I can’t take it anymore. We’re almost home, and I’m not getting out of this car without answers, but maybe I need to have some compassion for the guy. He’s obviously sad.
“Ethan, you can talk to me. I know you love Sybil, so if you ended things, you must have a good reason. I’m just trying to understand what that reason is.”
If I was in his shoes, if I had the love of a girl like Sybil Laurence, there is no fucking way would I break it off. Sure, I might be the one to fuck it up, but I wouldn’t be the one to end things.
“For once in your life, can you leave me alone?” Ethan chides.
“No.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Cooper, I know we share our secrets, but this one isn’t about you. It’s about her. It’s not something you can fix—it’s something she has to take care of, so why don’t you butt the fuck out for once?”
Ouch.
But I see through his hurtful words.
This is what Ethan does when he’s upset. He pushes people away. He hates to let anyone in on his vulnerability, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to treat me poorly, nor is it my fault he’s going through this.
“Fine, get angry, be a dick about it, push me away. Be like Dad.”
“I’m not Dad,” he snaps.
“Whatever you say. If I need to be your punching bag right now, then so be it, but just so we’re clear, I know what you’re doing.”
We don’t speak after that, both too pissed off. My hands are tight fists, and I wish we could fight this out like we did when we were kids and our punches didn’t hold the same impact they would today.
I shake my head, still in disbelief. If Ethan is this broken up about it, I can only imagine how shattered Sybil is right now.
I need to see her and make this better somehow.
Ethan might demand to be alone, but I don’t want her to be by herself when she’s hurting.
Maybe if I talk to her, I can help them mend whatever is going on.
Ethan is an introvert, but she’s more extroverted, more like me.
She needs to be surrounded by people she cares about when she’s hurting, and I’m pretty sure her family isn’t in the city, so she’s probably alone.
There’s got to be a way to fix this, and if Ethan won’t tell me what the problem is between them, maybe Sybil will.