Written with You (The Regret Duet #2)(2)

I ground my teeth and it was a wonder I had any left for all the times we’d had this very same argument. “Don’t you dare mention that picture. Don’t you fucking dare.”

She stared at me, utterly unphased. “You weren’t there.”

I lifted my shirt, pointing to the scar of puckered flesh that had stretched into a spider web over the years. “I was there, Hadley. I was there in ways you will never understand. So don’t you dare talk to me about that damn picture.”

She shrugged. “Then I guess this conversation is over, because without that picture, I can’t talk to you about the baby at all.”

I took a step toward her, her betrayal igniting me into a fiery rage. “The baby? Her name is Keira. Have the decency to at least acknowledge her as a human and not a sack of potatoes you paid a hooker to abandon!”

“I didn’t abandon her. I left her with Caven.”

“So that makes it better?”

“I figured you’d be fucking ecstatic. He always kept you safe.”

I closed my eyes, tears born in frustration flowing down my cheeks.

How did she not understand this?

How could she breathe a single breath knowing there was a little girl out there growing up without a mother?

How did her heart continue beating knowing she’d given up the only family we’d ever have?

How could she have closed her eyes at night for over three years without the regret consuming her?

It had only been a day since I’d found out about that baby and I was crippled by those emotions.

She had a daughter. How had she just left her and then gone on with her life?

I shook my head. “If Mom and Dad could see you now… Jesus, Hadley. You named her after Mom and then gave her away.”

Her eyes flashed dark, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “I didn’t give her away. I gave her to someone who could take care of her.”

“I could have taken care of her!”

A malevolent smirk pulled at her lips as she stepped toward me. Her hand went to my side, directly over my scar.

I winced, knowing where this was going.

She was high. She had no filter when she was using. But this was a new low.

Thanks to Malcom Lowe’s bullet, having children was officially off the table for me. I’d known it since I was a kid myself, but the older I got, the more it seemed to matter. It was the wound that never stopped giving. A scar that wouldn’t heal. The loss of a future I never got to choose.

I hated her for what she was about to say.

I hated her for what she knew about me.

But most of all, I hated her because she knew it all and was going to say it anyway.

She gave my scar a squeeze. “I’ve spent my entire life wishing I could be you. How’s it feel to finally wish you could be me?”

“I hate you,” I breathed, the gaping hole she’d carved making it nearly impossible to speak.

She released me, stepping away, but her gaze never left mine. “No, you don’t. You hate me because I fucked Caven. You hate me for being able to carry a baby. You hate me for seeking the truth. But you don’t hate me, Willow. And you never will.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug as though she’d just disagreed with me about what to have for dinner that night. “That’s your biggest problem. You can’t let go because you’re scared you’re the one who’s going to end up alone this time.”

She was wrong.

I fucking hated her.

I loathed her.

I wished she’d disappear and never look back.

But I could never let go of the idea that, deep down, my sister was still inside the broken shell of this woman.

Alone.

Scared.

And waiting to be found again.

If there was even a glimmer of hope that she was still in there, I would never give up on her.

Swallowing hard, I pulled myself together. “You’re so wrong you can’t even see right anymore. I’m not afraid of being alone. I’m afraid of losing you. My sister. My best friend. My family. I have spent the better part of my life trying to hold on to you. I’ve been fighting for you, even after you made it clear you’d given up. I gave you money. I bought you a house. A car.” I threw my hands out to my sides, allowing them to slap my thighs as they came down. “I started an entire company with the hopes that it would bring us closer again.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, you did all of those wonderful things that only a perfect loving sister would do. And then you cut off my bank cards, guilt-tripped me into rehab, sold my car, kicked me out of the house, and fired me. So…”

“You were slowly killing yourself. What did you expect me to do?”

“Let me!” she roared. “Just fucking let me go!”

“You promised me!” I yelled back, my scream so loud that it rattled the windows.

Her mouth clamped shut, the surprise of my outburst momentarily stunning her into silence.

And I pounced. With a long stride forward, I closed the distance between us and stabbed a finger at her chest. “When Grandpa died, you held my hand and promised me that you’d never leave. You swore to me that you’d live forever if you had to so I’d never have to bury anyone else. You sat on that pew beside me and told me that we were two halves to one soul. Wherever I went, you’d be there too.” My voice cracked as I forced it through the emotion. I had no idea if I was getting through the cloud of drugs in her system. Worse, I had no idea if she even cared anymore. But, dammit, I had to try. “Where is that woman, Hadley? Just tell me where she is and I will walk through hell to find her.”