“Then?” Her eyebrows lower as she studies my heated face. “Tell me.”
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s lying to Hope.
Unfortunately, I don’t have much of a choice.
I take a deep breath and lead her back to the couch. Once we sink into the cushions, I kick off my shoes, leaving them on the rug by the coffee table before pulling my feet up onto the couch and tucking them under me. Mom would’ve punished me for making a mess in her precious living room.
Some of her rules, like no loud noises, have stuck with me to this day. Not that one.
Shaking off the memory, I look at Manhattan’s night lights glowing through the windows and remind myself I’m home. That wherever Mom is, she has no power over me.
Still, my stomach churns as I start telling Hope about my evening, a story riddled with half-truths. I feel like I’m going to be sick by the end, when I have to lie outright and tell her I lingered outside Alaric’s building after he went in, and the wind must’ve messed up my hair.
“Sounds like you had fun.” Hope squeezes my hand, her gaze encouraging.
Ugh. The guilt is killing me.
“I did.” Wanting to avoid any more questions, I clear my throat. “Enough about me. What have you been up to?”
“Nothing as exciting.” She waggles her eyebrows, and I slap her shoulder playfully. “I mean it, though. I haven’t done much, just meditated on what I want to do with my life, and it was amazing. I have a great feeling about this, Lil. Like I can tell I’ll have everything figured out soon.”
Tears well in my eyes, my lips pressing together to keep them from trembling.
For someone named Hope, she’s had every reason to be hopeless. But she isn’t. Her voice turns animated as she talks about the bright future she sees for herself.
She’ll have that. I’ll make sure of it.
That’s a lesson Alaric taught me without even meaning to. That night in the hospital, simply by sitting at my bedside, he showed me what it means to be in someone’s corner when they have no one else.
“Are you okay?” Her brow furrows.
Still trying to hold back the tears, I clip out, “Of course, why?”
“You’re quiet. Are you upset that I’m not going to college or trade school? If you regret telling me it’s okay to take my time with this, it’s fine.” Her lips twist. “I’ll do it, get a degree and a higher-paying job. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back for the apartment and everything else.”
“Absolutely not.” The thought of pushing her into anything dries my eyes and fills me with resolve. “First, like I keep telling you, you can’t pay me back when it’sourmoney. Second, I’m excited for you. And I’m proud of you. Come here.”
The moment I open my arms, Hope launches herself at me. We hug, cry a little because—dammit, these emotions—and eventually return to our places on the couch.
“Okay.” I use the back of my hand to wipe the last tear from my cheek. “It’s been a long day. I need a hot shower and my bed.”
Hope’s expression turns serious. “You haven’t had dinner.”
Normally, I don’t skip a single meal. Tonight, though, I’m too full of feelings and thoughts. Not to mention, I’m deadly curious about Alaric. Food is the last thing on my mind.
“I’m exhausted,” I tell her.
“What if I make you something real quick?” She’s already up, sauntering into the kitchen. “I can whip up your favorite cream cheese sandwich. It’ssoeasy and will be ready in a sec.”
“Hope.” I walk over to her. With a hand on hers, I stop her before she opens the fridge. “I swear, I’m fine. I’ll have a big breakfast tomorrow.”
She dips her chin. “Swear?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, missy. You’re getting a pass this time.” She gives me her best Ada, our foster mom, voice.
That woman was both adorable and funny. Unless our grades started slipping. Even then, she was never upset when she reminded us we needed to graduate so we’d haveoptions. Or, in my case, so I’d be able to go to college, then get my well-deserved inheritance.