Flawless (Chestnut Springs #1) (77)

“Stupid fucking saying,” Kip mutters as his hand slides up and down again. “Of course hindsight is 20/20.”

I smile, but it’s half-hearted. “I need to find Winter.”

“You need to give her some time. And I’m going to have to deal with Marina. And you’re going to have to spill the beans on why Rhett Eaton is acting like a fire-breathing dragon around you. But for now, just lie here with your old man for a minute. For old time’s sake.”

I don’t argue with him, I just breathe in deeply through my nose, seeking comfort in a way that has me feeling like the little girl I once was. In this very hospital. In this very wing. With the one person who never stopped showing up for me.

And I doze off.





I’m woken by my stepmother, Marina, shoving at my shoulder in a dim room. Her hair is a pale blonde, and her features are severe. Just like her. She’s wearing a gray pencil dress under her white coat. She’s a well-respected doctor here, but she couldn’t be bothered to come check on her husband in the last however many hours since he had a heart attack.

She’s always been cruel, though.

“Get out.” She points at the door.

She’s never liked me. And on one hand, who can blame her? But on the other . . . grow the fuck up.

“No.” I push up to sitting and comb my fingers through my hair, trying to get my bearings.

“Yes. You’ve done enough here for one day.”

My heart plummets at the reminder of what happened earlier. With Winter. The muscles in my chest constrict and I drop her gaze.

One more reason for her to hate me. For my sister to hate me.

“Listen, I . . .”

Her hand shoots up, palm held flat to stop me talking, and her eyes blaze with icy fury. “Homewrecking is hereditary for you. You can’t help it. I get it. But you’re going to displace Kip’s heart rate monitor and create more work for everyone. This isn’t the time for a sleepover. Go home.”

My jaw falls open as I stare back at this woman. This woman who only kind of raised me because Kip never let her get close enough. It didn’t stop her from making comments like this to me through the years. I’ve developed a thick skin where Marina Hamilton is concerned. Her jabs used to hurt, but now . . .

I kiss my dad on his forehead and move off the narrow bed, limbs heavy like lead and eyes scratchy like there’s sand in them. Most likely mascara crumbs from crying.

“I feel bad for you, Marina,” I say evenly, brushing my clothes flat.

“I don’t need your pity,” she spits quietly, picking up my dad’s chart and fixing her gaze on the papers before her.

“But you have it. And you have my forgiveness for how utterly awful you’ve been to me for my entire life.”

She scoffs, and I pull myself up as tall as I can get as I aim for the door to leave. Battling with Marina isn’t worth the effort. However, that doesn’t stop me from sharing some parting words, even though my voice shakes as I do it.

“You’ve spent a lifetime hurting my dad, and I hate that. But whatever goes on between you and Kip is none of my business. You’re both adults. But I will never forgive you for making it impossible for me to have a relationship with Winter. You think all your maneuvering throughout my life only hurt me, but it hurt Winter, too. It made it so that I felt like I couldn’t tell her things that she deserved to know. It made it so that we were both isolated when we could have had each other. And that’s”—I point at her, right in her face—“on you and your fucked up vendetta.”

And then I spin on a heel and leave. Too angry to look at her for even another moment.

I stumble out of the room in search of a washroom to fix my face and relieve my bladder. And maybe to cry a little more by myself. I need to find Winter. Call Winter. Explain myself to my sister.

But when I wander around the corner and hit the waiting space, what I find is Rhett Eaton, corded arms crossed over his chest, hair loose around his shoulders, bearded chin tipped up, staring at the ceiling. His golden irises dance back and forth as though he’s watching something.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He sits up straight, instantly looking at me as he clears his throat and grips at the armrests. “Waiting. I guess. Yeah, waiting. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“What time is it?”

He nods at the wall behind me. “Almost two.”

“Two a.m.?”

“Yeah.”

I sigh and scrub at my face. “I asked you to leave.”

The quiet hum of the hospital behind me is peaceful in its familiarity.

“Well, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to sit here and wait to make things right with you. I’ll sit here all weekend if I have to.”

“No, you won’t. You ride tomorrow. You should be resting.”

“Summer. Don’t you get it?” He stands, holding out his hands in frustration. “I care about you.”

I suck in a loud breath and nod as I drop my gaze to his worn boots. “Right. But not enough to stop talking when I begged you to. Not enough to think about the repercussions of you going off. The repercussions that land on me.”

“He deserved it, Summer,” Rhett growls.

“And what about me, Rhett?” My voice is borderline shrill. “What do I deserve? Do I not deserve the opportunity to tell my own story? Don’t you get it? That was my secret to tell.” My thumbs jab at my chest almost painfully before I point at him. “You promised to keep that secret. And you broke that promise. I trusted you.”