Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)(39)

She finally glanced up at me, her lips tilting into a half-smile. “Define better.”

A little sarcasm. Good. “No more heart-racing and hand-shaking?”

“No more of that.”

“But still the depression. As bad as a couple of years ago?”

Her brow wrinkled. “No. It feels different.”

I leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “Different how?”

“Less drowning in an abyss of despair. More…numb?” Her voice held a tone of humor, uncertainty.

I snorted. “Numb sounds better than ‘abyss of despair.’”

I shoved off from the doorway and took a seat at the foot of the bed, checking out her room from the inside, for once.

The bed didn’t have a chance to settle with my weight before she scooted forward to sit beside me. When I lifted my arm, she nudged under it and rested her head against my shoulder.

“I like what you’ve done with the space.”

The lamp had a blue scarf, one of Logan’s, thrown over the top. On the wall above the bed, a strand of white Christmas lights hung over a collage of sorts: twine had been crisscrossed in a diamond pattern, magazine clippings and music CD jackets tucked underneath.

My attention paused at the low dresser beside the closet. On one side, a silver picture frame sat behind a small pewter box. Aside from the furniture, they were all that I could see of our mom’s belongings—the only personal items.

“Thanks.” Her gaze followed mine. “It’s been a work in progress.”

“We all are, you know.”

“You mean I’m not the only one?”

I huffed out a dry laugh. “Hell, no. We’re all screwed up. It’s the great test of life: how strong we keep fighting no matter what the world throws at us.”

“Why didn’t Mom fight harder?”

Heart heavy, I tried to speak, but had to force a swallow past the lump in my throat. “She fought as hard as she could, Lo.”

What I keep telling myself every day. Truth or not, was the only way I could deal with it.

Silence surrounded us. She wrapped her arms around my waist and took a deep breath.

Pain burned in my chest, and I let out a hard sigh, rubbing my sternum with the heel of one hand while I tightened my other arm around Logan.

“We are fighting to survive. We have each other. All that matters.”

“Will we…ever be” —her voice broke and she cleared her throat— “happy again?”

“Yeah, we will.”

“How do you know?”

Because I’ve already caught glimpses of it. With Kiki.

“When we look for the good in this world in spite of the bad? That’s when we find happiness.”

She gave a slow nod. “Maybe just small things, at first.”

“Sure.” I thought about what I’d busied myself with. “Gotta put yourself out there when you feel ready.”

“Would it be okay if I watered the lawn? Planted flowers in the pots?”

I coughed out a surprised laugh. “Don’t need my permission.”

“But can we afford it?”

“Yes. You buy all the flowers you want.” Whatever it took. But then the real question she’d been trying to ask hit me—time with each other. “We’ll go to the nursery together. Maybe tomorrow. Gonna need a whole lot more than water to revive our front yard. Probably some sod, the space is small enough.”

My spirits lifted. It would be good to do a project with her.

When she pulled away, her eyes glittered with unshed tears. But her face brightened with a smile. “I’d like that.”

“You know you can talk with me anytime, right? You can leave the door open and let me in. Doesn’t have to be an urgent text from a rooftop.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good.” At least I hadn’t failed to let her know I was there for her. “We’re family. I want you to know I’ve got your back.”

“I do.” She took a deep breath, then let it out. “You understand why I go to the roof, right?”

“I understand what you’ve told me...and Kiki.” Which wasn’t much. She’d said she wanted to be close to our mom. Yet being in her room felt like all of the best parts of Mom. The roof? Felt like the worst. “Scares the f*ck out of me whenever you’re up there.”

“I’ll never jump. That’s the point. If I’ve inherited depression from Mom, I can’t help that. But I can control what I do with it. It’s like a test for me. That no matter how bad I feel, I’m never gonna jump. I feel like Mom sees me up there. And…maybe she’s proud of me for knowing that.”

I half-turned, then wrapped both arms around her, squeezing her tight. “I’m proud of you. And when you really need to go, let me know. I’ll be there with you.”

Logan sniffed. “Thanks.”

Torn between my original mission and our recent epiphany, I just sat there and held her.

All of a sudden, she shoved at my ribs. “Okay. Enough of the touchy-feely.”

When I pulled away, she wiped her fingers over her eyes, smearing her eye makeup, and sniffed a couple more times. Then she glanced around, confused, as if just now realizing I’d entered her sacred space for the first time in over two years. “Did you need something?”