Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“You’re probably right,” I reply. “They’d get on the first flight home.”
“There’s no need for that either,” he says. “We’ll see them at Christmas.”
I nod as the door opens. Wolfe walks in and then stops, looking between the two of us.
“Did I interrupt?”
“Nope,” Apollo replies. “I was just about to leave anyway. It was fun hanging out tonight. We need to do it more often.”
“I’m in,” Wolfe says, but his eyes don’t leave mine as Apollo hugs me and kisses my forehead.
“I’ll call you on Friday,” Apollo says and then leaves, closing the door behind him.
“Everything okay?” Wolfe asks.
“Sure.”
No. No, it won’t be okay until a doctor tells my brother that he doesn’t have cancer. Why did I promise that I wouldn’t tell Wolfe?
That was not my smartest move.
“Did you guys have fun?” I ask, pasting a bright smile on my face.
“Yeah.” He narrows his eyes on me again, and I almost break.
I’m so not good at secrets.
“Yeah, we had fun. What did you do this evening?”
“Me?” I look around the living room, trying to remember. “Oh, I just looked through Rose’s trunk. There’s some cool stuff in there. I think this is the guy she was in love with when she was younger.”
I show him the photo. He glances at it, but I can tell his heart’s not in it.
He wants to know what’s going on with me.
And I’m not allowed to tell him.
February 12, 2003
* * *
Dear Diary,
Life fucking sucks sometimes. I hate watching my dad struggle so much with being sick from chemo. He just looks horrible, and I know he feels worse, even though he tries to smile and pretend like he’s fine.
He’s not okay.
Not today, anyway.
But he will be. Because there’s no way I’m going to think about the what-ifs of what could happen if the chemo doesn’t work.
It has to work.
Love,
Luna
Chapter Thirteen
Wolfe
I wish she would talk to me. For three days, since I walked in on a conversation between Luna and her brother, she has been acting…differently.
She’s moody. Irritable. When I simply asked her this morning if she’d like me to empty the dishwasher, she snapped and bit my head off.
And then quickly apologized.
I have a full day of work at the garage with Zeke today, but I won’t leave this house until I figure out what’s going on with my girl.
“Hey,” I say as I walk into the living room where she’s curled in a chair, looking through that old photo album. She glances up and wipes a tear off her cheek. “Okay, that’s it. I need you to talk to me, sweetheart. You haven’t been yourself, and no matter how much you tell me that it’s nothing, I know it’s something.”
She sniffles and reaches for a tissue, then blows her nose and sighs.
“I’m fine.”
I want to lose my shit. Instead, I simply pick Luna up right out of that chair, sit down, and settle her on my lap.
“Baby, you’re not fine.” I wipe a tear off her smooth cheek. “And I can’t express to you how much I hate seeing you cry. Do I have to beat someone up? Did you read something sad in Rose’s diary? What is going on with you? Maybe you want me to move out?”
“No,” she says quickly and buries her face in the crook of my neck. “No, I don’t want you to go. I know I’ve been testy and overemotional, and I’m sorry. It has absolutely nothing at all to do with you. You’re wonderful.”
I feel my lips tip up with relief. For a brief moment this morning, I had convinced myself that she had changed her mind about us.
It was a bad moment.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” It’s not a request, nor is it a plea. Still, she shakes her head.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because.” She sniffs, and then her shoulders shake as the dam bursts, and she starts sobbing against me.
Her absolute devastation breaks my heart into a million pieces.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I soothe, rubbing my hand up and down her back. I kiss her head and murmur to her. I don’t know what else to do as she clings to me and cries it out.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers when it seems the worst of it is over.
I pass her a handful of tissues and kiss her forehead.
“There’s no need to be sorry.”
“I w-w-want to tell you,” she says as she wipes at her face. “But I promised my brother that I wouldn’t say anything to anyone.”
“So, it’s about Apollo?”
She nods and lets out a little cry of despair.
“Okay. I get it, Luna. It’s perfectly fine with me that you need to keep your brother’s secret, but it kills me that it’s torn you up like this.”
“I don’t mean to take it out on you.” She finally takes a long, deep breath. “I know I’ve been short and bitchy the past few days, and I hate myself for it.”