Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I wanted to tell her that she was headed down a bad road. That any relationship that turned her into a jerk who treated the people who loved her like crap was a crap relationship. But then it was time for me to go back to my own, very busy life, and concerns about my angsty little sister faded to the back of my mind.
Besides, I was only twenty-one and barely had time to date. What the fuck did I know about toxic relationships at that point?
Nothing, honestly.
By the time I realized that Kai was a narcissistic piece of shit who’d “love bombed” Beatrice just long enough to get her out on the road, isolated in a shitty tour bus, where he could treat her like shit at his leisure, it was years later. Still, I nearly convinced Bea to leave two years ago, right before Violet Widow’s second studio album blew up, and my sister’s haunting voice was suddenly all over indie radio.
I was happy for her success, I really was.
I just wished it had happened in a way that didn’t tie her even more tightly to Kai and the two other male band members, old friends of his who seem to blame Bea for the volatility in the group. She’s the “Yoko” in their minds, apparently.
But Beatrice was never “volatile” before she hooked up with Kai. She was fun, high-energy, creative, and passionate, but rarely angry and never mean. My parents seem to think that becoming a professional artist changed Bea. I think it’s him, and I will never forgive him for it.
I stack the last pancake on the tower, which is now genuinely absurd. Eighteen pancakes. Even considering I plan to eat leftovers all week, it’s excessive.
I’ve been cooking for at least forty minutes. The smell is everywhere—saturating the kitchen, drifting into the living room, probably seeping under Bea’s door. The whole apartment smells like a diner on a Sunday morning.
But the guest room is still locked tight.
The apartment is silent.
My chest tightens.
Something’s wrong with her, I can just…feel it.
Last night, she was too upbeat. Too breezy. That manic smile, the way she couldn’t hold my gaze for more than a few seconds at a time, the speed with which she insisted on heading to bed, even when I offered to make whiskey sours with extra cherries.
And something was off about her breakup story. The whole “knew they weren’t going to end up happily ever after” part was especially eyebrow-raising. Maybe Bea didn’t think they’d end “happily”—they’ve always been too tortured together for that—but she seemed committed to going the distance with Kai. She’s called him her soulmate on more than one occasion.
My gut is screaming that there’s more to this.
It’s like that feeling when someone’s about to blindside me on the ice, a tingle along the hairline and between the shoulders. If I pay attention, I might have enough time to get Bea out of the line of fire.
Ignore it, and…
Well, I don’t know what happens then. And I won’t know until I pin Bea down in the hard light of day and big-brother the truth out of her. We aren’t as close as we were as kids or teens, but I’m still the one Bea comes to for advice. She still trusts that I have her best interests at heart.
A notification makes me flinch. I look over, to see a text from Charlotte—Hope you guys are having a good morning. Tell Bea it was nice meeting her last night.
Sighing, I type back—Thanks. I will. As soon as she wakes up…
Charlotte: Were you two up late catching up?
Nix: No, actually. She went to sleep five minutes after you left. I’m starting to get a little worried.
Charlotte: She’s probably just tired from her trip. And all the emotional upheaval. Breakups are exhausting.
Nix: Yeah, you’re probably right.
Charlotte: I’m almost always right. Unfortunately.
Nix: Why unfortunately?
Charlotte: It’s hard to feel like you deserve sympathy when you saw the betrayal coming a mile away. I’ve been thinking about all the time I wasted with Teddy lately. By the time we were in deep, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees, but for the first year or so, I knew I was making a mistake. I knew we would never work long term. But I was so tired of being alone, I just kept…talking myself out of what I knew to be true. How dumb is that?
Nix: That’s not dumb. That’s just being human. Being alone is hard sometimes.
Charlotte: Realizing you’ve flushed away years of your life when you knew better is harder. What an asshole I am.
Nix: Why are you being mean to Charlotte this morning? Stop being mean to Charlotte. She’s my friend.
Charlotte: LOL. Well, thanks. She’s lucky to have such a nice, supportive friend.
Nix: Am I still nice and supportive if I’m thinking about how hot you looked half-naked on my island last night?