Let Me (O'Brien Family, #2)(68)

“It wasn’t just the counseling that helped me,” I mutter.

She nods like she understands. “I see.”

Yeah. She does.

Her attention wanders to her lap, where she’s playing with her hands. It’s something she does when she’s nervous or unsure what to say. She hasn’t mentioned Sol these past few weeks, so I have no way of knowing if Sol’s mentioned me. I didn’t text or call after she left―partly pissed, partly stubborn, but mostly reeling because what she said is true. The incident with her mother did screw me up. That doesn’t mean I don’t want her with me.

“How is she?” I ask before I can stop myself.

At first, I don’t think Sofe’s going to tell me. I’m ready to march out and jump back on the treadmill, but the sadness trickling into her features holds me in place. “She’s not good, Finn,” she answers quietly.

My gut churns. “At all?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Sol, um, quit her internship.”

“What?” That counseling gig meant so much to her, and was credit toward her masters. But then I huff, realizing why she did it. “All right. I get it.”

“It wasn’t because of you,” she adds.

I cock a brow because I don’t believe her. One of the reasons I stopped going to counseling was because I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her and not being able to touch her, or be with her like I want to.

“I’m serious,” she insists.

“Then where has she been?” I don’t mean to sound like I’m challenging her, but that’s how it comes out. Like I said, I’ve been a miserable prick.

“With her mother,” she answers, totally shutting me up.

I lean back against the wall and cross my arms. “I thought she was in an institution.”

“She was, but now she’s in a private facility that allows Sol to visit more frequently. She uses the time to work closely with her mom.”

I frown. “Work closely with her how?”

Sofia considers me, like she thinks she’s said too much, and for her, I guess she has. “She’s trying to get her mother back to a healthier state, a better place of mind.”

“Is that even possible?” I hold out a hand because I’m not trying to be negative. But after how I saw her mother―laughing at shit that wasn’t there, smiling at the words she wrote with her own damn blood, I don’t see someone like that getting better, period.

“I’m going to tell you something you probably don’t know,” Sofia says, her soft voice lowering as if she’s afraid of being heard. “When Flor first tried to kill herself following Sol’s fifteenth birthday, everyone credited Sol for helping her recover from her breakdown.” She glances down as if embarrassed. “Even me. She’d visit her after school, show her pictures from her childhood, and redirect her the way the therapists and nurses would. I think it kindled that drive in her to be a psychologist.”

“Sol’s the one who brought Flor back from the edge?” Although I’m asking, I can totally see that, given how she did the same thing for me.

“That’s the thing,” she says. “I’m no longer sure she did. I think it was more a combination of Sol’s vigilant care, the medication my aunt was placed on, and the intense treatment she received. Whatever it was appeared to work, but it was only temporary.” She pushes off my desk. “The problem is, Sol really believed she impacted her mother’s care and improved her mental health. We believed it, too, encouraging her when maybe we shouldn’t have.”

“So you don’t think she helped her?” I question.

“With how bad Flor is now? No. If she did, it was only temporary. But Sol still thinks she can help her and make her better.” She swallows hard, trying to keep her emotions from getting the best of her. “But she’s not getting better, Finn. On her best days, she’s so doped up she simply sits there.”

“And on her worst?” I ask, my voice lowering.

“She calls Sol by her dead sister’s name, and at times turns on her.” Her eyes well. “Sol needs her mother back. But she’s gone, Finn.”

“I know,” I tell her. I knew that the moment we found her. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t destroy me to know what my girl is going through.

I don’t realize how hard I’m glaring at the floor until Sofia speaks again. “Evie thought you could help each other.” She smiles a little when I look at her. “She said you and Sol reminded her of her and Teo. Two broken souls who needed each other to be whole.”

My frown deepens. “She said that?” At her nod I ask. “But she barely knows me.”

“I know, but I think she recognized your pain. Just like she’s recognized Sol’s.”

“Evie wanted us together?” I repeat.

“That’s right,” she says, knitting her brow when catches my smirk.

“But you didn’t,” I remind her.

She half-laughs. “It’s not that. You know you’ve always been my favorite. I just . . . I don’t know. I never expected you to get so serious about her, especially so quickly.”

“Because of how much I’ve whored around?” I offer.

I grin at the sight of her blush. Evie may not know me very well, but Sofia has known me well enough. My humor fades. “I didn’t whore around with Sol if that’s what you’re thinking.”