Utter horseshit.
In a daze, she walked.
At some point, she realized that she’d made it to the apartment. She watched as movers lifted a sofa up the doorway steps and into the apartment, along with furniture. Edie stood near a tree and watched, her hands in her pockets. She didn’t go in. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk to anyone yet.
She was still processing.
Edie wasn’t sure how long she stood there, watching movers unload furniture into the new apartment. All she could see was Drake and Bianca. Her then-boyfriend Drake, sleeping with her younger sister. Bianca, who fluttered her hands over her hair, gave men a coquettish smile, and then wrapped them around her finger. Bianca, who swore she didn’t sleep with her boyfriends unless things were committed.
Of course she didn’t. She was too busy fucking Edie’s boyfriend.
It wasn’t Drake’s betrayal that hurt. She’d long since gotten over Drake, and now was thankful that things had ended. If she’d been with Drake, she’d have never met Magnus, after all. But Bianca’s betrayal? That fucking ripped her apart. Bianca was her sister. She was the person Edie trusted the most in the world, the person Edie leaned on more than anyone else. She’d always thought Bianca would have her back. Wasn’t that what sisters did?
Apparently not.
She imagined Bianca’s face when she found out that Edie knew. She’d be stricken at first, of course, and then she’d try to figure out how to fix things. How to make Edie feel somehow guilty for accusing Bianca. Because that’s what Bianca’s “unselfish” martyrdom was all about, of course. It wasn’t about helping Edie or devotion for her sister—it was about making Bianca feel better about what she’d done.
The thought made her ill. Edie bent over and threw up in the bushes, vomiting until her drinks and her lunch came up.
“Edie?”
Of course someone would discover her puking in the bushes. She wiped her mouth, feeling pathetic even as a warm, broad hand touched her back.
“Babe? You okay?”
Magnus. She turned and looked at him, a baseball cap on his head, sweat on his brow. He wore an old T-shirt with a Warrior Shop logo, and jeans. A box of computer equipment was at his feet. She’d bothered him while he was moving. Shit. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she was fine, to make an excuse as to why he’d found her barfing in the street, to make some sarcastic comment to deflect the fact that she felt hollow inside.
But this was Magnus, and she trusted him. She didn’t have to be defensive or abrasive, because he’d understand. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t think I’m okay, no.”
Concern flashed across his face. “Do you want me to get the car? Do you need to go to the hospital?” His hand stroked over her brow, taking her temperature.
“No. That’s not it. I just . . .” She gave a small shake of her head. “I just found out Bianca was fucking my ex when I had my accident and that’s why he broke up with me.”
A cold look settled on his expressive features. “Do I need to go break his face or Bianca’s?”
“You just need to hold me,” she said in a tiny voice.
Big arms wrapped around her and Edie felt her face smushed against his chest. It wasn’t the most gentle hug, but it was the most welcoming one she’d ever had, and the tears began to flow. A sob choked her throat. She felt so incredibly . . . stupid. How had she never seen this?
“Come with me,” Magnus said in a gentle voice. He steered her toward his new apartment, and as they walked, she saw through her tears that the movers were staring at them with confused expressions. She buried her face against him, hating that someone other than Magnus was seeing her cry. As if he could sense her thoughts, he gestured. “Why don’t you guys wrap up what you’re doing at the moment and take the rest of the day off? I’ll pay whatever’s needed to handle things. I just need some alone time here.”
He steered Edie toward a plastic-covered couch and sat down with her, and then pulled her into his lap, cradling her in his arms. She sniffed and kept her face pressed against his neck as he stroked her back. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not doing so good at keeping things together.”
“You don’t have to keep things together,” he told her, rubbing a hand up and down her spine. “Just tell me what happened.”
So she did, telling him about the lunch and running into Drake, and her ex’s careful words. She told him how it all made sense—how Bianca had suddenly turned from self-centered little sister into selfless nursemaid, and how Edie had thought it was curious but she was too happy and relieved to have her sister at her side to care. She told him about Drake’s distance as Edie healed, and she’d stupidly thought it was her and her injury that were the problems. And as she talked, he held her and listened, his hands moving over her in gentle, comforting motions as she cried.
“I just feel so dumb,” she told him when the story was done. One hand swiped across her face, wiping away tears. “Like it was all before my face, and I was too wrapped up in my own misery to see it. I should have known. My sister’s a user. People like that don’t just change overnight.”
“Hey,” he murmured. “It’s me you’re talking to here. You think I don’t know how siblings work? I’m the one who keeps giving Levi a chance even when I know it’s dumb. It’s just that . . . he’s family. I want him to want more for himself, even if he doesn’t. So I totally understand.”