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He reaches out as if to touch my face, but then he winces and fists his hands. “And you didn’t say a word?” he demands. “You didn’t think that it would be important to me? All this time I let you avoid telling me anything about yourself. I let myself believe you had a good reason. But this—” Closing his blue green eyes, he lets a rush of air filter from his flared nostrils. “I never expected this. I’m a fool.”

“I didn’t want to make things awkward,” I explain, and I feel the first tears start to race down my cheek. “We weren’t supposed to end up like this. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than you’ve already—”

“Evelyn.” This time he touches my face, his fingers warm and gentle, comforting, in spite of his anger. “My brother killed your sister. I was the reason why he was back out on the streets to begin with, and yet you’re talking about hurting me? What about you? What about your family?”

“I don’t blame you,” I blurt out. “I don’t blame you because I’m just as guilty. If it hadn’t been for me she wouldn’t have been walking home. I told her to walk home because I was pissed at her, and then she died.” The last word is practically screamed, and I’m trembling so much that I have to fold my arms around my stomach to still myself. “I. Don’t. Blame. You.”

“I wish you would.” Dropping his hands from my face, he backs away from me slowly, each step breaking my heart into tiny pieces. I don’t want him to go. I don’t want us to end this way. I don’t want us to end at all. “I wish you would’ve told me the truth because maybe—” But he cuts himself off with a harsh laugh that pierces me to my core.

“Maybe it would’ve changed things?” I ask softly, but he moves his head from side to side. His eyes burn in to mine as he reaches for the doorknob.

“No,” he tells me, “I would still be in love with you. So telling me wouldn’t have changed much of anything.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

My pride, and the fact that harsh, broken sobs rock my body, keeping me firmly rooted in place, stops me from going after Rhys. I sink down on the edge of my bed. There are so many more things I want to say to him. I want to tell him that I have fallen in love with him too. That I don’t want to let him go because I haven’t felt anything like this since before Lily died. I want to tell him that since I met him, he’s woken me up, breathed new life into me—made me feel alive.

I want to tell him everything, but as the pain clouds my vision, I can’t.

My chest hurts, like someone has reached into it and given my heart an angry twist. And as I lie curled on my side with my knees pulled against my chest, I know this is a mess of my very own making.

I won’t screw up this year. I won’t. I will not wreck things this time.

Somehow, I had done exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. I have fallen headfirst in love with the one person who could wreck me—the only person I can wreck just as easily.

When Corinne returns to our room, she’s chattering about how ridiculous Daniel is, but she stops short, her breath catching at the sight of me crying. “Evie?” she finally whispers hesitantly, and I hear the door ease shut behind her. I see the toes of her pink and white Chucks as she comes over to my bed. I close my eyes, and when I open them, she has kneeled down in front of me so that her bright green eyes are level to mine.

She tilts her head to the side, her red and brown curls falling against her shoulder as she looks at me in concern. “Do you want to talk?” she asks. “I can listen. Or I can just stay here with you. Just let me know.” When I don’t say anything and only shake my head, she touches my wrist, her small hands oddly comforting. “I won’t leave, okay? You stayed with me when I needed you, so I won’t leave.”

She keeps her word, sitting on her bed and listening to music until I finally sit up. I brush the strands of hair that are clinging to my face away and flick my tongue over my dry lips. “I should start from the beginning,” I say before I answer every question she’s ever asked, every question I’ve successfully evaded. As soon as I’m done, she crosses her arms over her small chest thoughtfully.

“You just have to talk to him, Evie,” she tells me.

So, I do.

***

On Monday afternoon, Kendra tells me the exact same thing when I return her call after I finish showering. For the second time this semester, I’ve skipped Sight Singing and Dictation to try and regroup my thoughts, but it hasn’t helped. If anything I just feel worse.

“I tried to call him.”

Kendra sucks in a breath. “Well then try again. You messed up before by not telling him the truth but you can fix things. You can always fix things if you just suck it up and put everything out there.”

Of course that’s always easier said than done, but I agree with her. “I should have told him.” I squeeze my eyes closed and I can still see the hurt look on Rhys’ beautiful face when he discovered that Lily was my sister. No wonder he doesn’t want to answer my call—he feels betrayed. “He blames himself just as much as I’ve been blaming myself.”

“You shouldn’t be doing that either.” My best friend is quiet for a long pause before releasing what sounds like a sob, and I realize that she’s crying softly. “Evie, listen to me. I loved Lily like my own sister, but you can’t keep blaming yourself. You can’t change it. You can’t go back. The only thing you can do now is try and move on with your life. Tell Rhys everything. If he doesn’t want to hear you out—if he can’t see that you two might be good for each other—he’ll never deserve you.”

“I’m going to go to our lesson this afternoon,” I say in an effort to convince myself to make a move. Scooting off my bed, I pace my room from corner to corner, pulling my towel tighter around my body. “I’m going to get dressed and tell him everything, and if he doesn’t want me—then I’ll be alright.”

Saying those words aloud, though, doesn’t feel alright. They make me nauseous, and I tilt my head back to stare up at one of Corinne’s ceiling stars and release a heavy breath.

“Exactly,” Kendra soothes. “Everything will be alright.”

But when I get to our usual practice room at four PM on the dot, Rhys isn’t there. He’s not there on Tuesday either, and because he hasn’t answered the text or email I sent, I find myself standing outside of Professor Cameron’s door.

She looks surprised to see me, her eyes narrowing for a moment behind her designer glasses, but instead of telling me to send her an email to schedule a time to meet following Thanksgiving break, she gestures for me to come inside. “Please have a seat.”

As soon as my butt makes contact with one, I open my mouth to speak. “I’m just wondering if—” I flick my tongue over my lips, attempting to come up with the best way to ask her about Rhys without ruining his reputation with her. Finally, I squeeze the edges of her desk and ask, “Do you know if Delane will be around next week for lessons after we come back from Thanksgiving break? Exams are right around the corner and then I’ll be singing for y’all again. I just want to make sure...”

My words trail off. I just want to make sure that, wherever Rhys has gone, he’s coming back.

Rubbing her palm over the back of her neck and ruffling her short hair, Professor Cameron appears to give my question a lot of thought before she responds. “Rhys had to return home to Roanoke because of a family emergency, but he will be returning as soon as he has everything sorted out.” Her eyebrows pull together when my face falls, and she scoots her seat closer to the desk. Leaning in close to me, she offers me a sympathetic tilt of her bow-shaped lips. “I can assure you that Mr. Delane’s emergency is genuine—he’s helping his mother maintain custody of his young niece.”