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  So much for her theory. She sent a helpless glance down at the wet floor.

  “Go,” Lilia mouthed. “I’ve got this.”

  Ky hesitated, then nodded gratefully. She went to her room and closed the door. “This is not a good time.”

  “Will there ever be a good time?” He wasn’t shouting, as he had in the past. His voice was quiet and sounded sad.

  “Fourteen years ago would have been good. Before—” She bit back the words at the last second.

  “Before what?”

  She slipped out of her sneakers and kicked them against the wall. “Before you fucked up our lives and made Mom kill herself!”

  His sharp intake of breath reverberated through the phone. “I didn’t… She didn’t… It was an accident, wasn’t it? She forgot she wasn’t supposed to mix Xanax with alcohol.”

  Ky massaged her temples with her free hand. She hadn’t meant to say what she had, but it had been on her mind all these years, and she wasn’t taking it back. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  He didn’t say anything for a while. Only the sounds of him blowing his nose drifted through the phone.

  Oh man. Was he crying? She wouldn’t feel sorry for him. She wouldn’t. He wasn’t the victim here; he was the one to blame for it all.

  “I know I fucked up, okay?” This time, he did sound angry, but maybe not at her. “That’s why I’m calling. To apologize and to…to explain.”

  Ky said nothing. She didn’t want his excuses.

  “I did a lot of soul-searching while I was gone, trying to understand how it all went to hell. Your mother and I, we didn’t have the best of marriages.”

  That was the understatement of the century. What Ky knew about loving relationships and honest communication, she had learned from the Romanos, not from her parents.

  “That wasn’t the only part of my life I wasn’t happy with. I hated my job and that most of our friends seemed to make more money than I did.”

  A huff escaped Ky. “You were a lawyer. Do you really expect any sympathy from a cafeteria worker?”

  “I don’t want your sympathy, Ky. I—”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said sharply. Only Regan got to call her Ky.

  He swallowed audibly. “All right. I won’t. Just listen, okay?”

  “So talk.”

  “I hated most parts of my life. I realize now that I should have worked to change it. I should have quit my job, gone to marriage counseling, whatever it took.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  He hesitated, then said, “Because I was scared shitless.”

  She hadn’t expected him to admit that. He had always been the bragging kind, never showing any weakness. “Scared of what?”

  “Of admitting I wasn’t God’s gift to trust law. Of your mom leaving me if we aired my dirty laundry in therapy. My life was like a house of cards, and I was afraid that if I started pulling at one corner, it was going to collapse. So I was stuck. I started doing stupid things—embezzling money—to prop up that damn house of cards.” He cleared his throat. “Can you understand that, even a little?”

  Dammit. Ky didn’t want to admit it, but yes, she understood it only too well. She had been gently cradling her own house of cards for the past fourteen years. Less than an hour ago, she had snuck out of Regan’s bed because she’d been terrified of pulling at one corner and having the whole thing come crashing down.

  “Kylie?” he asked when she didn’t answer.

  “I’m not ready to forgive you.” The words burst out of her. “You ruined Mom’s life—and you nearly ruined mine too, just because you couldn’t face your problems like an adult. We lost everything when you got caught. And I don’t mean only the house. The clients whose money you took weren’t strangers. A lot of them were our friends, neighbors, my classmates’ parents.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” A defensive tone crept into his voice.

  “It didn’t stop you from doing it. They all shunned us when you got caught. Mom stopped talking to me as she got swallowed up in her depression. If it hadn’t been for Regan and her family…” She shuddered and cut off that line of thought. “I can’t forget that.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I just want a chance.”

  “To do what? Rebuild the house of cards?”

  “No. The cards are down,” he said quietly. “I just want to get to know you.”

  Could she let him do that? Get to know her—the real her that, for the most part, she showed only Regan? Could she take that risk?

  She suppressed a sigh. Apparently, she got that unwillingness to take emotional risks from him. That thought stung. She didn’t want to resemble him in any way. “I can’t make any promises,” she finally said.

  “I’m not asking for that either. Just… I don’t know… Let’s keep talking. And maybe we could meet up in person. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Not now.” Maybe never. Certainly not without Regan, who had offered to come with her. But by now, she had probably realized Ky was gone and was upset with her.

  Ky’s house of cards was wobbling precariously, despite all of her efforts to prevent that—or maybe because of those efforts. God, she really was like her father in that regard.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” he repeated. “Just call me or text me or whatever it is you millennials do.” Humor colored his tone, as if he was poking fun at his own struggle to keep up with her generation. Maybe he had changed. When she had been a child, he never once admitted to any shortcomings.

  “Okay. I mean, maybe I will. Like I said, no promises. Oh, um, D—” She stopped herself. She couldn’t bring herself to call him Dad, but calling him Trevor didn’t feel right either.

  “Yeah?”

  “If we do meet, there’s one thing you should know about me.” She forced herself not to pause. She didn’t care if he was fine with it or not, right? “I’m gay.”

  “I figured.” He sounded very calm.

  Maybe it should have been a relief—he was still her father, after all—but Ky realized she had half hoped he’d explode or not want anything to do with her, so she wouldn’t have to make that decision. “How did you…?”

  “It wasn’t hard to guess, even when you were what…fourteen? I mean, you and the Romanos’ youngest…”

  Ky sank onto the edge of her bed. Even her father, who couldn’t have been a less attentive parent if he tried, had sensed there was something between them?

  “I have to go,” she said instead of answering.

  “All right. Talk later…maybe.”

  “Yeah. Bye.” Ky ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed next to her. Acid seemed to burn a hole into her stomach and all the way up to her throat. God, she was so exhausted—not physically, but mostly emotionally. She wished she could crawl back into Regan’s bed and start the day over.

  But life didn’t come with a rewind button. She had to choose how she wanted to go forward—if she dared to. Regan was her only constant, her one true stability. How could she risk that?

  How can you not? a little voice whispered. Refusing to deal with her feelings might wreck their friendship as surely as confessing them, just as her father’s inability to face his problems had ruined all of their lives.

  Groaning, Ky curled herself into a ball on her bed and pulled the covers over her head.

  A knock came at the door. “Kylie?” Lilia called from the hallway. “You okay?”

  Ky stuck her head out from under the covers. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  Her phone buzzed with a text message.

  No, no, no. Why couldn’t they all leave her alone?

  But what if it was Regan?

  The thought made her throw off the covers, sit up, and reach for the phone.

  The text wasn’t from Regan—it was from Regan’s dad.

  Ky swallowed heavily. Had Regan told her parents what had happened? What if they hated her now?

  Come on. Be an adult. Besides, even as close-knit as th
e Romanos were, she was fairly sure Regan would never tell them.

  She opened the text.

  What’s this about you not coming for family dinner? Joe had asked.

  Apparently, they had invited her and Regan over. Ky blew out a breath. Now she felt silly for thinking, even for a second, that Regan might tell them.

  Sorry, she texted back. She didn’t want to lie to him, especially since she had no idea what reason Regan had given for her not coming, so she just added, Maybe next time.

  I’ll hold you to that, Joe answered. Quick question: Are brownies still Regan’s favorite chocolate dessert?

  Ky barely had to think before replying. Actually, I made her a chocolate panna cotta with espresso syrup last month, and she declared that her new favorite. Want me to send you the recipe?

  That would be great.

  A quick search and she copied in the link.

  Thanks! Joe replied. I’d better hurry now before the hungry masses arrive.

  It sounded as if Regan would be spending the day in Lake Oswego. Maybe she had already left. So even if Ky wanted, she couldn’t head back to Regan’s place, and getting to Lake Oswego without a car was impossible.

  Sighing, she flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Now what?

  There was nothing she could do at the moment. Not that she had to do something right away. She could wait until Regan got back and talk to her tonight…or next week. Maybe wait until the weekend so they had plenty of time to talk.

  But deep down, she knew she was only propping up her house of cards. If she waited, she would chicken out and go back into denial for another ten years. But now that she had admitted her feelings to herself, she would have to work that much harder to keep them in check. Did she really want that—always having to hide that part of herself from Regan?

  It wasn’t fair, not to herself, not to their friendship, and certainly not to Regan. Ky dug her nails into her palms as she imagined how Regan must have felt when she had woken up this morning and found her gone. Regan deserved better than that. She deserved to be loved, not just the way her previous partners had loved her, but the bone-deep, carved-into-my-soul way that Ky knew she would be capable of…if only she opened herself up to the possibility. And, of course, if Regan wanted that kind of love from her.

  Ky thought maybe she did, but she couldn’t be sure.

  Ask her.

  She needed to trust that they would be able to work it out, no matter what, and that letting herself want more wouldn’t necessarily lead to disaster. Do it now, before you chicken out.

  With trembling fingers, she reached for her phone again. Not giving herself time to change her mind, she tapped out a quick text message. Are you busy? I have a favor to ask.

  Then she waited with her heart hammering wildly.

  Chapter 13

  Regan’s father tsked and gave her half-empty plate a chiding look. “Eat! You barely touched your food!”

  “Dad, this is my second plate.”

  Her brother, Robbie, reached over to take her plate, but Regan slapped his hand away. “Mine!”

  He rubbed his fingers. “I thought you were done.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can have it. I’m taking leftovers home with me.”

  “For Kylie?” her sister, Mac, asked. “Where is she anyway? Busy with her new girlfriend?”

  The thought of Ky with someone else made the eggplant parmigiana sit like a brick in Regan’s stomach. It hadn’t been like that in the past, had it? She hadn’t been a big fan of most of Ky’s girlfriends, but that had nothing to do with jealousy, right? Granted, it had been a while…okay, more like years…since either of them had been in a relationship. “She doesn’t have a new girlfriend. Why would you think that?”

  Mac shrugged and tried to steal some of the cheese crust from Regan’s plate, earning her a slap on the hand too. “Because that’s the only time the two of you aren’t joined at the hip. I never got why you don’t just date each other.”

  Regan’s cheeks burned as if they were about to catch fire. “Because…because… You wouldn’t understand.” She was no longer sure she understood it herself.

  Their mother pushed back her chair and got up. “Regan, would you mind helping me with dessert?”

  Regan had never been so glad to help out in the kitchen. She jumped up. At the last second, she snatched her plate up from the table and took it to the kitchen with her before her siblings could steal all the cheese. She set it on the wooden center island, then opened her parents’ giant fridge to see what her father had made for dessert.

  “Top shelf,” her mother said.

  Not that Regan could have missed the dozen individual glass bowls. Her father had garnished each one with fresh strawberries. Regan took the first two from the fridge and stared at the chocolate dessert. Her throat tightened. “Is that…?”

  “Chocolate panna cotta. Kylie said it’s your new favorite.”

  Regan whirled around. “You promised you wouldn’t talk to her!”

  “I didn’t. Your father sent her a text.”

  “Like that’s any better! What did he tell her?”

  “Nothing. He only asked for the recipe. It’s not like he could have told her anything, even if he wanted, since we don’t have a clue about what’s going on.” Her mother rounded the center island, took the two bowls from her, and closed the fridge with a nudge of her hip. “Sit and tell me.”

  “But the others are waiting for the panna cotta.”

  “They can come in and get it.” Her mom guided her to the small, round table in the hexagonal breakfast nook. When Regan reluctantly dropped into one of the chairs, she put a bowl and a spoon in front of her.

  Regan clutched the spoon but made no attempt to eat. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “At the beginning, please.” Her mother sat across from her, not touching her panna cotta either. Her full focus was on Regan.

  “I kissed her,” Regan blurted out.

  Her mother smiled. “Ah.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” Her mom waved her spoon. “Go on, please. What did Kylie do? She kissed you back, right?”

  “Yes. At least for a moment or two.” Then Regan’s overloaded brain caught up with what her mom had just said. “Wait! How did you know I was talking about Ky? There are other women in Portland, you know?”

  Her mother gave her the same smile as before. “Let’s call it a mother’s intuition. So, what did you do next?”

  “Nothing.”

  Her mom stared at her. “Nothing?”

  “It’s not like I planned to kiss her. It was more like…an accident.”

  “An accident?” Her mom eyed her with a skeptical look. “Like you tripped and fell onto her mouth?”

  “Haha. Really funny, Mom.” Regan shoved a spoonful of panna cotta into her mouth to help fight down her frustration, but it didn’t work. “Our friends talked us into going on a date, and at first, I thought these feelings were only a temporary reaction to it. I didn’t want to risk our friendship on a fluke that won’t last.”

  Her mother snorted. “Yeah, only a little twenty-five-year fluke.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  That annoying smile reappeared on her mom’s face. “It’s been clear to everyone in this family—well, everyone but you—that it’s always been Kylie for you. You even scandalized your grandparents by declaring that you’d marry Kylie when you grew up.”

  Regan couldn’t remember that. “Uh, I did?”

  “Oh, yes. You kept insisting Kylie would be your husband one day, and nothing anyone said could convince you otherwise.”

  Regan rubbed her burning cheeks. “I was a child. Everyone thinks they are going to grow up and marry their best friend, right?”

  “Not me. I thought I would grow up to marry Robert Redford.” Her mom let out an exaggerated dreamy sigh.

  Regan laughed. “Is that where Robbie got h
is name?”

  “No. He’s named after my grandfather. By the time I had Robbie, I had long since gotten over my childhood crush. But I think you never did. You just didn’t realize it.”

  “No, Mom.” Regan shook her head so firmly she nearly became dizzy. “You’ve got it all wrong. Ky was always just…Ky to me. I never thought about her like that before.”

  “I’m not saying you dreamed of turning the tree house into a love shack and luring her up there to seduce her.”

  Regan’s spoon clattered onto the table. “Jesus, Mom!” She fanned herself.

  “I’m just saying Kylie has always been your person. The one you confided in. The one you told your dreams to. The one you—”

  “That’s called having a best friend…isn’t it?” Regan searched her mother’s face for the answers to the questions that had kept her up for the past week.

  “Yeah, but Kylie has always been more than that to you. She’s your yardstick—the one you compared all of your girlfriends and boyfriends to. And they always fell short.” When Regan opened her mouth to interrupt, her mother raised one hand to stop her. “At first, when you never brought anyone home, I thought you were holding out for the perfect man. Then I realized maybe it would be the perfect woman. And finally, it dawned on me that maybe the person who’s perfect for you has been right there, by your side, all this time.”

  Regan gripped the edge of the table as she wobbled on her seat. This very realization had started to dawn on her too, but hearing it phrased like that still took her breath away. “If you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Excuse me? Last time I tried, I got an earful about letting you and Kylie decide what your relationship is and what it isn’t.”

  Regan ducked her head. Yeah, she had said that, hadn’t she? That conversation had happened only three weeks ago, yet it felt as if her entire life had shifted since then.

  “Besides,” her mother added, “I had nearly given up hope of the two of you ever recognizing what’s right under your noses.”

  “I might never have if not for that little chemistry experiment our friends talked us into.”

  “Hey, what’s taking so long? You two aren’t in here, eating all the—” Her sister froze in the doorway and looked from Regan to their mother and back. “Uh, never mind.” She beat a hasty retreat but not before snatching two bowls of dessert from the fridge.