Chapter Fifty #2
My legs tremble as I head up the stairs, which list toward the wall and creak beneath my feet. At the top of the steps, I walk straight down the hall toward the back of the house. Gabi’s old room is to the left and Everett’s is on the right, both overlooking the yard.
There has to be an explanation.
I raise my fist and knock.
“Come in!”
Turning the old-fashioned brass doorknob, I push the door open. Across the room, Gabi is putting away laundry. I dig the necklace from my pocket.
“Hey,” she says. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I want to—”
“I found this.” I hold up my hand, the chain with the charm on it dangling from my fingers. “It was at the edge of the carpet in my bedroom. It has to be mine.”
Gabi’s cheeks lose their flush.
“But if it is,” I go on, tapping the ladybug at my throat. “Then this one, which was found in the alley behind the bakery the night of the fire, can’t be mine.”
“I—” Gabi swallows, her eyes full of panic.
“Is it yours?”
She nods.
“So were you— Were you there that night?”
She nods again.
My arm falls. “I don’t understand.”
“I was going to tell you,” she says, rushing toward me. “In fact, I wanted to tell you today at lunch, but then Yasmine was there, and it didn’t feel right and I—” She stops right in front of me and covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh God, Mila. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t understand,” I repeat, taking a step back. “When? Why?”
“I’d gotten into a huge fight with my parents—you know, after what I had to tell them.
My father said horrible things to me, my mother was too scared to stand up to him, and I left the house.
” Her hands flutter nervously as she speaks.
“When I’m stressed, I bake. You know that. I just wanted a kitchen.”
“So you came to the bakery? But you knew I was there.”
“Yes and no.” Tears spill from her eyes, but she doesn’t wipe them from her cheeks. “I knew you’d been there, but when I drove by, the place was dark. I thought you guys were gone.”
“So you came in?”
“Yes. I’d taken my mother’s key, and I let myself in the back door.
When I pulled it from my pocket, the necklace must have fallen out.
The clasp had broken earlier in the day, and I’d shoved it in there so I wouldn’t lose it.
Anyway, a few minutes after I got there, I heard my brother’s laugh.
I realized you guys were up front in the dark and I took off.
I couldn’t have been there more than five minutes, tops. ”
It clicks. “Long enough to turn the oven on to preheat?”
She nods miserably. “Yes. But I swear to God, I turned it off. At least, I thought I did… But maybe I didn’t.” Sobs break from her chest, and she wraps her arms around herself. “Maybe the fire was my fault.”
I shake my head. “Why didn’t you say something? All these years, you let me think I was solely responsible for that fire. You let this entire town think that. Do you know what that was like for me?”
“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am now. But at the time, I thought I was doing what was right.”
“For who?” I demand. “Yourself?”
“No, for Everett.” She takes a step toward me.
“You don’t know how our dad was. He used to hit Everett when I did something wrong.
He didn’t want to hit his daughter, but he didn’t mind hitting his son.
I thought if he knew the fire was my fault, he’d take it out on my brother.
” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t let Everett take another punch for me. ”
My heart sinks like an anchor to the ocean floor. Everett being abused. Gabi forced to watch. Their mother powerless to help.
Part of me wants to apologize for being angry. To take Gabi in my arms and tell her I understand. To reassume the blame for something that wasn’t my fault after all, put the guilt on like a heavy old coat.
But I don’t.
“You still should have told me,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’ve carried so much guilt and shame about that fire. To know that maybe it wasn’t my fault would have alleviated a lot of pain.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her tears quiet but intense. “I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”
“Because we never spoke again!” I’m trying to keep my voice down because I know Mrs. McKean is home, but it’s hard. “I thought you hated me!”
“I didn’t. I hated myself. And I couldn’t face you—any of you!” She closes the gap between us and takes one of my hands. “Mila, please forgive me. I regret what I did that night with every ounce of my soul. And I’m so sorry it took me this long to come clean.”
“But you didn’t come clean!” I pulled my hand to my chest. “I had to come to you and ask for the truth. If you had just done it yourself, this might feel different!”
“I wanted to do it myself. Honest, I did.” She wipes her eyes with the cuffs of her sweatshirt. “But I felt like I just got you back, and I asked Everett to give me a week.”
I freeze. “What do you mean, you asked Everett to give you a week?”
Gabi’s face goes green.
“Do you mean that Everett knew about this and—and didn’t tell me?”
“Only since last weekend,” she says in a rush.
“My God.” Dizzy, I grab onto the door for support. “He said he loved me.”
“He does!”
“No.” I shake my head. “If he loved me, he would have told me.”
“I begged him not to. It’s my—”
I’m already out of the room. Pounding down the steps. Flying out the front door.
He knew, I repeat as I get in the car. Start the engine with numb fingers. Drive home on autopilot. He knew. He knew. He knew.
And he didn’t tell me. After promising to be honest with me, he didn’t tell me.
I think of all the chances he had. Sunday afternoon before dinner. Monday night at his house. Tuesday after we saw the Harts. Wednesday after the meeting. Thursday.
We’ve seen each other every day. We’ve talked. We’ve texted. We’ve gotten naked and had sex.
He looked me right in the eye and kept silent about something he knew was important to me.
The last six weeks replay in my mind.
The things we’ve done. The words we’ve said. The plans we’ve made.
For a frightening moment, I wonder if I’ve invented it all. Filled in blank pages with a story that wasn’t real. Deluded myself with the intensity of our connection yet again.
You seem to fall in love very quickly.
A weakness when it comes to men.
There’s nothing worse than thinking you’re on the same page as someone and discovering you were wrong all along.
What if my mother’s right? What if I’m just weak and oblivious? What if I’ll always be alone?