She tucks her ombré hair behind her ear. “You told Nina she wasn’t.”
“I didn’t tell Nina a damn thing.” I open my car door and get in, starting it before she can speak again.
There’s no way I can hold a conversation with her and not want to break down. I knew I wouldn’t get away with this trip to Shelton Bay unscathed—but I thought I might be able to make it longer than a few hours without seeing the girl I spent my life attached to, my best friend.
Without seeing his family. Mila’s family.
I drive out of the parking lot and toward the house. I can’t think of it as mine yet. I don’t know what I’m doing with it yet. If I could move it to Charlotte, it would be perfect. . . . But I can’t. The house is here, and . . .
I shake my head. I’m not doing this today. There’s plenty of time to make that decision. Right now, I have to focus on getting through today. On getting through this fucked-up situation I caused.
I kill the engine in the driveway and get out as Leila’s car stops directly behind mine. I rub my temples. Dammit, I should have known she wouldn’t let this go. She’s as stubborn as they come.
“Oh, hell no, Sofie Callahan. You ain’t walkin’ away without telling me some truths, girl.”
Mila clings to me tightly as I pull her out. “Can you not, around Mila? She’s not used to yelling.”
“Sorry.” Leila winces and pops the trunk of my car.
“What’re you doin’?” I ask as she starts pulling my shopping bags out of the trunk.
“I’m not leaving until you’ve started talking. Are you gonna open this door or what? These bags are freakin’ heavy.”
I sigh and slam the trunk down. I unlock the front door, and Leila strolls in, depositing the bags in the kitchen.
“Sars, Mama! Sars!” Mila cries, reaching for the bags on the floor.
“Okay, okay, hang on.” I put her down and grab a packet of the chips.
She snatches the bag from me and digs her little hand in.
“What do you say?”
She shoves a chip in her mouth and looks at me with wide, innocent eyes. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. Damn, that look is too cute.
“Mila.”
She grins. “Tankoo.”
“Good girl.” I kiss the top of her head and join Leila in the kitchen to put the groceries away.
Leila’s eyes follow me as I move around the kitchen. I wrinkle my nose as I empty out the fridge of the old, rotten food left over from before Dad died. The smell makes me want to vomit, and I breathe through my mouth.
“Ew.” I grab a garbage bag and fill it with the contents of the fridge, dumping it in the trash can in the backyard. “Shoulda come back sooner.”
Leila hands me cleaning spray and a paper towel, wordlessly, her eyes still searing into me.
“Thanks,” I mutter, knowing her questioning is inevitable. I get sucked into cleaning the inside of the fridge. My stomach is rolling, huge somersaults that ignite a guilt-ridden nausea.
“So,” Leila says quietly. “Were you ever going to come back?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Eventually. I knew Dad was going to die and that I’d have to sort it out if Ste wasn’t here.”
“Doesn’t he come back in a couple months?”
“Yep.”
“So why bother coming back? Your dad died months ago. Why not just stay wherever the hell you fucking disappeared to two and a half years ago?”
I glare at Leila. “Can you keep your voice down? It might not bother you, but shouting in front of Mila sure as hell bothers me.”
Leila stares at me. “I’m sorry. I’m just so friggin’ angry with you, Sof. Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
My eyes travel to Mila as I close the fridge door slowly and lean against it. The cloth falls from my fingers to the floor, and I hear Leila’s sigh.
“She’s the reason you left. . . . Isn’t she?”
“I told you I’m not answering questions I’m not ready to.” I wince as Mila crushes a handful of chips into the carpet and pray Dad’s vacuum still works. I pull the fridge open again and start filling it with new, fresh food. “I don’t owe you anything, Lei. I don’t have to answer you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Take it however you want.”
“I’m her aunt, aren’t I? She’s Conner’s daughter.” She continues like I never said anything. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I put the milk in the fridge door and shut it. “Hey, you,” I say, ignoring Leila. Mila looks up at me. “Ready for your nap?”
“No nap! No nap!”
I roll my eyes and walk outside, grab the travel crib from the car, and bring it inside. Mila is still repeating her pre-nap mantra as I take it upstairs and set it up. I tuck her favorite blanket in it before heading back downstairs to her. I retrieve her dolly from the front room and pick my baby up, batting crumbs off her little hands.
“Nap time.”
“No nap! No nap! No nap!”
I take her upstairs and deposit her in the crib with a kiss on her forehead. “Sleep tight, baby girl. I love you.”
I close the door behind me and leave her there, still chanting “No nap! No nap!” She’ll give up in a few minutes and lie down. Knowing that fact is one of those crazy things I can appreciate in this insane upheaval of both of our lives.
Leila watches me as I enter the kitchen and pour a glass of orange juice. “You can’t hide this, y’know?” she pushes. “You can’t hide her. Nina will have it halfway around town already.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I snap, turning to look at her. “You think I don’t know that by tomorrow Mila will be common knowledge in this goddamn town?”
“Oh, I know you know it, Sofie. I’m just wondering how long you thought you’d keep her a secret.”
“As long as I possibly could. It’s what was best for everyone. And no, before you ask, I’m not ashamed of her. But I have my reasons, and I don’t have to justify them to you.”
Leila raises her eyebrows. “No, but you have to justify them to my brother.”
“Get out,” I say firmly, meeting her eyes. “Whether or not I do is not your business, Leila. Neither is Mila. Until you understand that and can respect my decisions, no matter how wrong you might think they are, I don’t want you here.”