It's going to be odd not seeing Dylan for a full weekend; I don't think that's been the case since I moved to Edinburgh. With him as my neighbor and my coworker, barely a day has gone by when we didn't see each other, one way or another.
And now, I can't say I mind so much.
"Are you going to be seeing your sister?" Dylan asks me, his tone more serious.
I clear my throat and look away from him. "Yes," I say quietly.
Dylan digs his hand into his pocket and retrieves a pen before reaching for my hand and scribbling something onto it.
I watch curiously as he lets go of my hand and puts the pen back into his pocket. I look at the palm of my hand. Seven neat digits are penned across it.
"If you want to talk, just call me," he says, shrugging.
I smile. "Thanks," I say.
"That's what friends are for," he says, half smiling.
I smile back. "Yeah," I say.
I check the time on my phone. "My flight is in an hour, I should probably get going."
Dylan nods. "Have a nice trip," he says as he turns to walk to his own car, parked a few rows away.
"Bye," I call after him. He lifts his hand in a wave, a smile painted on his rosy pink lips, the wind blowing his hair back slightly.
I look back down at the seven numbers on my hand and make a plan to call them as soon as I land in London.
The rest of the morning seems to speed by as I check myself in and find my way to my gate. I take a seat and sigh, pulling my hair into a ponytail.
"Flight 909 to Heathrow Airport in London City boarding now."
I stand from my seat, gathering my carry on and boarding pass. This is it, I'm going home to face my family. Despite my worry about seeing Courtney, excitement sparks inside of me to go back to London.
I stand in line and soon am seated on the plane, peering out the window at the tarmac. My phone buzzes in my lap.
I grimace at James's caller ID.
What more could he possibly want from me? He was a horrible boyfriend and he expects me to talk to him?
I angrily hit ignore and shut off my phone. How dare he? I stuck with him much longer than I should have, I see that now. He's a selfish jerk that deserves no one.
Someone sits down beside me and I shift my things closer to me. I plan on editing a manuscript Mr. Morris assigned to me the other day and perhaps sleeping on this flight.
The person sitting next to me bumps my elbow on accident, and I turn to utter an apology when my throat goes dry.
"Oliver?"
Chapter Forty One
He smiles at me as he buckles his seatbelt. “Hi, Katie.”
I swallow. Oliver was the one that ransacked my apartment. How can I look at him as friendly anymore?
“What...what are you doing here?” I ask. What if Alec sent him to monitor me? Oh, God. My nerves skyrocket.
“I’m going to a conference in London,” he explains. “I make art on the side, and I was invited to feature in a presentation.”He doesn’t seem like he’s lying, but then again, everyone associated with Alec seems to be a good liar, Dylan included. I nod and force a smile.
“Katie, I know what you’re thinking,” he sighs.
“What am I thinking?”
“Come on, don’t act like that. I was there when Alec caught you listening in, remember?”I flush. “Oh. Right.”
Oliver clenches his jaw. “I’m not going to say anything to Alec,” he says quietly. “In fact, Alec doesn’t even know I’m on this flight. He thinks I’m ill.”I furrow my brow, readying a reply when Oliver beats me to it.
“Buckle up, we’re lifting off,” he tells me as the pilot comes over the loudspeaker.
I comply and Oliver pulls a magazine out of his seat pocket, leaning back in his seat. We don’t speak as the plane takes off and coasts steadily among the clouds.
I’m still on edge as I open my manuscript and click open my red pen. I feel Oliver’s brown eyes on me, and I try to ignore him. Why is someone as friendly as Oliver involved with Alec and his schemes?
“You don’t have to ignore me,” he says and I flush.
“I’m not ignoring you,” I say, not looking up from my work.
“I think you are.”
I put my pen down. “What do you want me to say to you, Oliver? ‘Thanks so much for sifting through my apartment, much obliged!’”Oliver looks taken aback. “You think I went through your apartment?”
“I heard you say it,” I snap. “I’m not an idiot.”
To my surprise, Oliver laughs.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“I didn’t break into your apartment,” he says as his chuckles die down.
“But--”
“I only reported on it,” he explains. “James and Talia were the ones that broke in.”I blink.
Oliver leans toward me. “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he says. “But Alec’s organization--Lyone Enterprises--is bigger than you’d think. The people you saw in that room are merely his closest executives.”Lyone Enterprises. The name itself sends chills down my spine.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask.
Oliver chews on his lip. “Because Dylan’s been talking about revolt again,” he says lowly. “And it’s sounding a lot better than it did the last time he brought it up.”Revolt. Overthrowing Alec. My pulse quickens.
I shut my manuscript. “I’m sorry for accusing you,” I say softly.
Oliver shrugs. “No worries,” he says. “I understand where you were coming from.”I nod. “I still can’t exactly trust you,” I tell him.
“I know,” he says. “But I’m sick of working for Lyone Enterprises, and you should know that.”I part my lips. “Are you really going to revolt?”
“Dylan’s pushing it pretty hard. Ever since you became a topic, anyway. It’s odd, he hasn’t pushed it so hard since--” Oliver stops, looking down.
“Since what?”
“Nothing.” Oliver exhales slowly.
The flame of curiosity ignites in me, but once again, I must ignore it.
“I’m on your side,” Oliver says quietly. “Just so you know.”
A sense of relief washes over me at this news. Knowing I’m not putting myself in danger by being around Oliver is a weight off my shoulders.
“Thanks,” I say.
He nods and looks back at his magazine. “Hey, maybe I should buy this home soda maker for Sarah, yeah?”I smile, remember that he took Sarah out for dinner a few weeks ago. “Are you two a thing now?” I ask.
Oliver blushes. “I guess so,” he says. “But if she says that we’re not, don’t tell her I said that. I don’t want to push things--”I laugh. “Well, no matter how she feels, I’m sure that home soda maker should whip her pretty good.”Oliver grins. “Hmm, you think so?”
“Definitely.”
I’m glad Oliver and I are friendly again, he’s fun to talk to and be around. I think him and Sarah are really good together, and I’m happy for them.
Oliver and I end up chatting for most of the flight until he falls asleep around the three hour mark. I take this opportunity to catch up on my work, and by the end of the flight, I’m almost done editing the manuscript.
I wake Oliver up when the pilot announces we’ll be landing, and he rubs sleep out of his eyes, yawning.
“What time is it in London?” He asks me.
I check my watch. “About seven pm.”“Three hours,” Oliver groans.
“I know,” I sigh. “Jet lag is a bitch.”
Oliver laughs loudly. “Amen, sister.”
The plane soon lands and Oliver and I stand up. I yawn and stretch my limbs, powering my phone on. Ten texts from my mother instantly chime, and I reply to them quickly. Oliver answers a call and helps me get my bag from the overhead compartment.
“Where are you staying?” I ask Oliver as we walk to the baggage claim.
Oliver shrugs. “Some hotel where the conference is being held,” he says. “I forget the name.”
He smirks. “What about you?”“My parents’ place,” I tell him.
“That’s right, I had forgotten you were from here,” he says.
I shrug. “Yeah.” My nerves return as I realize how close I am to seeing my sister again.
Oliver and I retrieve our bags and say goodbyes. We exchange phone numbers and he says he’ll call me if he finds a better present for Sarah. I laugh and we part ways.
I search the crowd of people for my mother’s familiar face. I check my phone for messages from her, and snap up when I hear my name.
“Katie!”
My mother steps through the throng of people waiting for arrivals and walks briskly toward me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. I inhale her floral perfume as I hug her back. I’ve missed her.
“It’s so good to see you, look at you,” she gushes, pulling away and holding onto my hands. “Your skin looks nicer, oh and look at your hair--”I laugh as she fusses over me. She hasn’t changed a bit.
Her hair is the same dark brown, and she wears the same makeup she always would before I left. She’s a woman of habit, my mother. That’s most likely where I get it from.
“Let’s get going, everyone’s waiting at home,” she says, linking arms with me.
Everyone. Including Courtney.
I swallow and nod as she leads me out of the terminal, chattering the whole way. She talks about the weather in London and asks multiple questions that she backs up with more questions before I can even answer.
We finally make it to the car, and I smile at the familiar red car. My mother helps me with my bags and soon we’re battling London rush hour traffic.
“Are you cooking dinner?” I ask her as the cars ahead of us move painfully slow.
“Of course,” she says. “I made spaghetti, your favorite.”
I can’t help but think of when Dylan made me spaghetti, and how it’s his favorite, too.
“Great,” I say. “I’m sure it’s still the best.”
She smiles. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Katie,” she says, squeezing my arm.
“I’ve missed you too,” I say.
We soon pull into the parking garage of my old apartment building. I did grow up in an apartment in the middle of Croydon, believe it or not. It was quite fun, really. Courtney and I used to race up and down the stairs from our home on the fifth floor until the doorman told us to quit. I smile at the memories.
“Here we are,” my mother sighs. “Home sweet home.”
We haul my bags into the elevator and ride up. My heart pounds loudly in my chest.
My mother unlocks the familiar door and pushes it open.
We walk into the foyer, and there she is.
Dark hair cascading past her shoulders, brown eyes that match my own. A loose lilac top adorns her torso and dark blue jeans cover her legs. She turns and meets my gaze.
Courtney.
Chapter Forty Two
I swallow, unable to form words to say to her. Memories flash before my eyes as she looks on, her eyes cold.
“Katie,” she finally says, her tone clipped.
“Courtney,” I manage to say.
She sets her lips into a tight line.
“Your father’s in his study,” my mother says, attempting to break the ice. “Go say hello, and I’ll put your bags in your room.”I nod and tear my eyes away from my sister. She’s four years younger than me, but sometimes I feel she’s the older sibling, and I the younger one.
I blindly make my way to my father’s study, knocking lightly on the door before entering.
“Katherine,” he greets me from his desk, taking off his glasses. “How are you?”“I’m alright,” I say, smiling. “It’s great to see you.”
“You, too. You look wonderful, darling.”
I smile. “Thanks, Dad. You look pretty good, too.”
He laughs. “How’s Edinburgh treating you?”
“I love it there,” I say honestly. “It’s a beautiful city.”
“It is,” my father agrees. He stands from his desk. He looks the same, as well. Dark hair with touches of grey and kind brown eyes. “Let’s go to dinner, I’m sure your mother is ready with it.”I nod and follow him into the dining room, where my mother and Courtney put plates on the table. Courtney ignores me.
I take my old seat at the table. “Everything looks great,” I compliment my mother.
“Thanks, love,” she says.
Everyone takes their seats.
My mother spoons spaghetti onto each person’s plate. I notice that when she reaches my father, she avoids his gaze. Odd.
We finally start eating, and my body warms with the familiar taste of my mother’s spaghetti. For the first part of the meal, it’s silent with the exception of forks clanking on plates.
My mother speaks up. “Katie, how is James doing?”
I swallow quickly. “Oh,” I say. “James...we broke up.”
My mother furrows her brow. “Oh, how come?”
Because he forgot about me all the time. Because he lied to me. Because he hit me. Because Dylan was always there for me when James wasn’t, even when Dylan and I hated each other. “Things just didn’t work out,” I say casually.
“I’m sorry, Katie,” my mother says, clucking her tongue.
“It’s alright,” I say. “Some people just aren’t right for each other, I guess.”My father shifts in his seat and my mother looks down. I furrow my brow, thoroughly confused.
Courtney slams her fork down next to her plate. “Go on, tell her,” she snaps at our parents.
I swallow. Tell me what?
“Courtney,” my mother hisses.
“Come on, this is the perfect opportunity. Tell her. Go ahead.” Courtney’s expression is hard.
“Tell me what?” I ask shakily.
My parents exchange a glance.
“Katie,” my father says slowly. “Your mother and I...” He clears his throat. “Your mother and I are getting a divorce.”
Chapter Forty Three
All feeling drains my body as I go completely numb.
I drop my fork, the metal clanking against the porcelain plate. My throat is dry and I feel like I’ve just been smacked.
“What?” I choke out.
“We’ve been fighting so often now,” my mother says softly. “We just don’t think we’re right for each other. Anymore, at least.”“How can you do this?” I ask. “How long have you known?”
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