Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Nick
“I went to this incredible bookshop in Brooklyn today,” Sara says softly, her eyes distant as if she’s still holding onto the peace of the place.
I glance up at her, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. She’s been quieter than usual over dinner, and now it makes sense.
There’s something in the way she speaks, a trace of excitement or perhaps wonder, that catches my attention.
“I wasn’t expecting much, honestly,” she continues, and I can tell she’s still there, back in the shop, “But it was like stepping into a different world. The shelves were all old wood, the smell of leather and paper everywhere… It was so quiet, so peaceful. I didn’t want to leave.”
I don’t know why, but the image of her there, in that space, fills me with a strange mix of relief and unease. The way she talks about it, like she found a part of herself in that quiet corner of the world, makes me wonder just how much I still don’t know about her.
“Sounds like the kind of place I could spend hours in,” I murmur, trying to ground myself back in the conversation.
She smiles faintly, but the expression doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Then she hesitates, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass.
“I… I met someone there,” she says, her words careful, measured. “The bookshop owner.”
I don’t say anything. I can feel the tension in the air, a slight shift. Her gaze doesn’t meet mine, and I realize something in this story is important.
“You… you did?” I ask, my voice even. But I’m already bracing myself for what’s coming.
She looks at me now, and I see the moment she makes the decision to tell me.
“It’s your sister,” she says quietly.
My pulse slams against my chest as if I’ve been sucker-punched. Time freezes for a second, but I don’t know if it’s because of the words or the sudden realization of what she’s saying.
I freeze too, but it’s a kind of stillness that’s so damn loaded, it threatens to crack the walls around us.
My eyes lock on hers. Her face is calm, but there’s something different, something I can’t quite place in the way she’s looking at me now.
“You found her?” The words come out sharper than I mean, but I don’t care. I need to know. I need to hear her say it.
I should have known this would happen the moment she saw that photo.
The photo from the past.
Sara doesn’t say anything for a moment. She just meets my eyes, waiting for me to process whatever the hell it is I’m feeling. Her fingers twitch at the edges of the couch.
She knows what she’s done. Knows I’m not ready for it.
But then she nods, and it’s like a weight falls from the sky and lands right on top of me.
“I don’t know why you did that,” I snap as the emotion takes hold. I grab my plate and put it on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t tell you about it for a reason. Because I’m not ready to.”
I turn away from her, my breath coming too fast, and my chest feels like it’s closing in on me. My pulse pounds in my ears and I can’t shake the feeling that everything is spiraling.
But Sara doesn’t leave me in this space. She doesn’t let me retreat, doesn’t let me run. She’s moving toward me slowly, her voice quiet but firm.
“Nick, please,” she says, her hands resting lightly on my arm. “I’m not asking you to talk about everything. I just want you to know I found out.”
“She’s supposed to be living her life in secret.
That’s the whole point!” I spin back toward her, the words spilling out of me before I can stop them.
“You don’t get it, Sara. This, she, isn’t something I just talk about.
It’s not some fucking story that’s nice and neat and has a happy ending.
You think meeting her is going to change something? It won’t. It won’t fix anything.”
I can see the hurt flash across her face, but it’s quickly masked by determination. She doesn’t back down. She never does when it comes to me.
“I’m not trying to fix anything, Nick,” she says softly, her voice steady but full of that gentle defiance I’ve come to know too well. “But you can’t just keep hiding from this forever. You can’t keep pretending it’s not there, that it doesn’t matter. It matters. You matter.”
I slam my hand against the counter, my fist clenched tight. The urge to run, to get out of here, to not have to face any of this, is almost overwhelming. But I’m not sure if I’m more angry with her or with myself.
“I don’t need you to fix me,” I bite out. “I didn’t need you to find her. And I sure as hell didn’t need you to drag all of this back into the light.”
Sara’s face tightens, and her hands ball into fists in her lap. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Nick. I’m just trying to help you stop hurting yourself.”
I let out a frustrated laugh, bitter and hollow.
“You don’t think I know that?” I shake my head, pacing now, feeling the frustration building.
“You don’t understand. You don’t know what it was like.
How fucking hard it was to let her go. I thought if I just erased everything, if I just—if I just kept everything locked up, I could move on.
And you just, you, walk right in here and open the door again.
I’m not ready, Sara. I’m never going to be ready. ”
Her eyes soften, but there’s still a fire in them, a desperation to reach me. “I get that you’re not ready. But you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself.”
That’s all it takes.
I wasn’t ready for this, for the flood of everything I’ve buried to come rushing back. Not here, not like this. But it doesn’t matter.
My chest is tight, my throat burning, and before I can stop it, the sobs explode out of me. They tear through my body, violent and sharp.
I can’t breathe, can’t think, and I’m losing control of everything. Of myself. Of this. Of her.
It’s a sound I haven’t made in years. Ugly, raw, desperate. It’s coming from a place so deep inside of me that I don’t even know how to stop it. I don’t know how to put the pieces back together.
The worst part? It’s unexpected. I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t expect to fall apart, but here I am, choking on my own grief, and every word I never said, every regret I buried, is rising to the surface all at once.
Sara’s arms wrap around me, pulling me close. Her voice is a low murmur in my ear, but it doesn’t do anything to stop the brokenness flooding through me.
I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it.
“I let it go,” I choke out between ragged breaths, my chest aching, the grief wrapping around me in a vise grip. “I told myself I let it go. But I didn’t. I never did. I thought I could move on, but I can’t.”
I feel her body shift, feel her pull me in closer as if she’s trying to hold me together. But nothing can hold me together right now.
“Nick…” she murmurs, her fingers in my hair, brushing my forehead. I don’t know if she’s trying to comfort me or hold me back from falling apart even more.
Maybe both.
“I’m sorry,” I croak out, the words bitter and raw in my mouth. “I should’ve fought harder. Should’ve done more. But I didn’t. I let her go. And I never should have.”
Her hands press against me, firm and steady, as if she’s trying to ground me. “It’s okay to feel this, Nick. Evelyn understands…”
I swallow hard, but there’s something stuck in my throat. Something lodged so deep I can’t get it out.
“I didn’t save her, Sara. I wasn’t enough. I couldn’t even keep her from hiding away. Because of the press…”
Sara doesn’t say anything right away. She just holds me tighter, her fingers pressing into my back as if she’s trying to shove the pieces of me back together.
And in that moment, I wish I could believe that. I wish I could believe that I was enough for Evelyn. That I could have fought the world for her.
She pulls back just slightly, her hands steady as they rest on my shoulders. I’m still gasping for breath, struggling to keep myself together. I’m teetering on the edge of something I can’t control.
“Sara…” I murmur, but my voice is still too shaky.
She doesn’t wait for me to finish, her voice cutting through the fog of my mind.
“I spoke to Evelyn today. We got to know one another a bit. She’s doing well. She’s… at peace now. I think. I mean, she’s still cautious, but she’s found a way to be happy.”
I try to breathe through the tightness in my chest.
“Is she…?” I can’t finish the sentence. I don’t know what I’m even asking.
“She’s okay, Nick,” Sara says softly, as if she knows exactly where my mind is. “She’s okay. And… I got her number. I think we can maybe move forward with this, when you’re ready. I think you can reconnect. She must be at least a little bit open to it.”
Everything stops.
For a second, I can’t hear anything but the pounding of my own heartbeat, each thud echoing louder and louder in my ears.
She got her number.
A thousand questions flood my mind, but none of them come out. Because if I say the wrong thing, if I push too hard, if I show how much I need this… then maybe it’ll fall apart again. Maybe it’ll hurt too much to ever fix.
I let out a long breath. “Sara…”
Sara’s hands slide up to my face, her fingers brushing over my cheek, trying to smooth away the rawness of this moment. Her touch is gentle, but there’s a quiet fire in her eyes.
I can’t read it. I don’t know what to make of it. All I know is that my chest is tight, my mind is a whirl of confusion, and yet… somehow, she’s still here.
Still holding me.
She doesn’t say anything at first, but her gaze never wavers from mine. She leans in, and for a split second, I think she might pull away. But she doesn’t.
Her lips brush against mine, just a soft, tentative press, and the whole world falls silent. Every breath I’ve been holding, every inch of me that’s been screaming for something to feel right, is answered in that kiss.
The kiss deepens as she tugs me back onto the couch, and everything else falls away—noise, thought, time. There’s only Sara, and the slow, pulsing heat building between us.