"I'm talking to them. Mostly." I sigh and pour two hefty glasses, some of the wine sloshing too close to the edge of the cup and onto the counter.
Téa grabs a towel from the stove handle, wiping up the spill. "The only one you're really talking to right now is Jade."
"Well, Aiden doesn't want to talk to me, and I think the others have taken his side. And with the several funerals we've had in the last couple of weeks, it's not like they don't have constant reminders of what's happened."
She tosses the soggy towel into the open washer just off the kitchen. "You need to forgive yourself. You did what you thought was right. And sure, you did let the bastard get away, but you and I both know you saw a side to him that the rest of us just weren't seeing, and I think that has to count for something."
I take a large sip of my wine, setting the glass to the side before checking on the lasagna I slipped into the oven when we first got here. "I don't think it counts for anything. He wants nothing to do with me."
"Well, you did shoot him."
"I was trying to save his life. I guess I did. Aiden doesn't seem to be hunting him down." I groan and head over to the couch, dropping down and digging the heels of my hands against my eyes. "This was all easier when I only had my family to worry about."
She laughs and hauls my hands away from my eyes. "It's not a bad thing to care about people outside your family. Some might even call it a good thing. You're not so focused on all their wants and needs anymore. You get to go out and have a life of your own."
"I don't want a life of my own."
Téa grins and leans into me. "You do want a life of your own, and it's a good thing. You're just scared to want it because you've always made yourself smaller for the sake of your family."
"If you give me that 'I'm allowed to take up space in the world' shit again, I'm going to throw myself out the fucking window. Obviously, I take up space in the world."
"You take up the space that's left instead of claiming some space for yourself." Téa springs to her feet and pulls out her phone.
Within a couple of seconds, one of my favorite songs is blasting through the speakers. She tucks her phone into her pocket before grabbing my hand and hauling me to my feet.
"I don't want to have a dance party." I pull my hand out of hers, looking at the glass of wine I left on the kitchen counter.
Téa starts to move her hips, flailing in a way that looks more like she's about to launch her limbs like rockets instead of actually dancing. "Dance parties fix everything, and you know it, so get to dancing, and then once we're done, you're going to stop feeling sorry for yourself and actually think about what comes next."
Since I know she's not going to give up, I give in, dancing with her around the living room as one song changes into the next. We belt out the lyrics, jumping around together until both of us are breathing heavily, and I feel like I can barely stand.
As I retreat to my wine, she turns off the music, putting on some horror movie instead. I glance at her over the rim of the wine.
The timer goes off, and I haul on the oven mitts, pulling out the lasagna and setting it on a trivet. The scent of tomato, basil, and browned cheese fills the room, making my stomach growl.
Téa sits down on the other side of the kitchen island, reaching for her drink. "That smells amazing."
"Good, because there's enough here to feed an army." I toss the mitts to the counter before leaning on the island, drumming my fingers to the beat of the last song we listened to.
"You said you don't know about staying in New York or leaving."
My fingers still. "Because I don't."
She reaches out and squeezes my forearm. "Look, I'm going to miss you if you go, but I'll understand it. Everything you've been through—hell, your entire family has been through—in the last couple of years is nothing but a bunch of shit."
"Thanks...I think."
She laughs and goes to the cupboard to get down some plates. "I wouldn't blame you for wanting to leave. Sure, I want you to stay, but it'd be selfish for me to tell you to if you're feeling like being here is too much."
I bite the inside of my cheek. "I just don't know how I can keep doing this."
"Doing what?" She hauls a long knife out of the drawer, setting it on the counter.
"Staying here, being part of this shit, wishing I had my own life, trying not to let my family rule my life, wondering why I ruined things with the only man who has ever seen me for who I am and not who my family is or the potential I have to offer him."
Téa's phone buzzes in her pocket, and she pulls it out, her gaze flicking from one side to the other before the color drains out of her face.
"What is it?" I move closer to her.