“More details, obviously. Give me that.” She pried her phone from my hand. “What is wrong with you?”

“I almost put him in the fucking hospital myself. Do you realize that? I don’t care how much he fucks up his life right now. When are you going to get that? I despise him.”

“Well, I don’t. And Nate doesn’t. When are you going to get that?”

“We are getting married, for God’s sake.” I slammed my palm into the wood-paneled wall. Hannah flinched. It was the first anger I gave that house, but not the last.

“That doesn’t mean you get to tell me how to feel about people. Your brother is sick. He’s suffering. You should empathize.”

Seth’s invisible intrusion into my night, which was already going so poorly, infuriated me. Why did Hannah continually throw herself between Seth and my rage? Couldn’t she see that she was at the heart of that rage? Seth touching her … Seth trying to take her from me …

“I am done … talking about him.” I made my voice low. It shivered with emotion. “Done for good. Stop bringing him up. I am not going to fucking forgive him.”

Tears shimmered in Hannah’s eyes—whether from frustration or sadness, I couldn’t tell.

“You are always so upset,” she said. “Always. You don’t know how to be happy.”

“That’s not fucking true.”

“It is.” The first tear rolled down her cheek, and then the next. And I hated Seth, and the possibility that she might be crying for him. “I found this listing. I actually thought you would like it. I sent it to Marion”—she snuffled loudly—“for a surprise for you. Y-you said to meet you in the middle, but there is no middle with you! You don’t like anything!”

She started to cry in earnest.

I grabbed her wrist, my eyes wide.

“What?”

“M-maybe you don’t want to live w—”

“You said you didn’t…” I stood swiftly and cradled Hannah. In spite of her anger, she clung to me. “… didn’t want to live in the sticks. I don’t understand.”

“Thirty minutes from Denver isn’t the sticks.”

“Hannah. Bird.” I kissed her damp cheeks. I wiped away her tears until only her lashes were dewy. “Would you seriously live here?”

“Yes.” She laughed—a little hysterically—and her eyes filled again. “I would. I’m tired of the city, tired of the condo. And I know it’s … ridiculous and huge, but … we could get people to take care of the—”

Seth faded from my mind like a ghost, paler and thinner … gone. My anger faded with him. I lifted Hannah off her feet and I turned and turned, laughing.

Chapter 27

HANNAH

“You can touch it,” Chrissy said, frowning at the subtle swell of her stomach. “If you want to, I mean. I just hope random women don’t try to touch me. Ew.”

I eyed my sister’s belly. At seventeen weeks, she definitely had a baby bump. The band of her yoga pants hung beneath it and her tank top stretched over it. I wondered if that was good for the baby. Poor little guy … or girl.

I looked away.

“I’m good, thanks. Maybe when it’s … kicking and stuff.” I laughed nervously. The idea of feeling something moving in my sister’s stomach appealed to me less than touching the bump. Was I lacking normal maternal instincts?

Whatever the case, I planned to support my sister all the way. She didn’t need to know that pregnancy, well, freaked me out.

“Hey, I can’t get over how nice this place is. Seriously, you live in a palace.” I gave Chrissy’s new digs a sweeping look. For the past three and a half weeks, I’d spent all my spare time in moving mode: angsting over the Corral Creek home inspection, boxing up stuff at the condo with Matt, and driving Chrissy and her piles of junk to and from our parents’ house and her swanky new downtown condominium.

“Right? I kind of hit the jackpot.” Chrissy traipsed through the living room, which was filled with stylish furniture, to the wraparound balcony. Denver sprawled below.

“I mean, it’s really … nice that Seth set you up like this.”

“Nice? I guess so. It’s the least he could do, if you think about it.”

I pursed my lips. I didn’t want to get into a fight with Chrissy. Still, I didn’t like her tone: the jackpot, the idea that Seth owed her anything. It takes two, Sis.

“Have you heard from him much?” I said.

“Sure, we talk all the time.”

“How does he seem?”

“Fine. Busy.” She folded her arms over her stomach and beamed at me. “Can you believe we’re dating brothers?”

“It’s … pretty crazy.” Again, I wanted to snap at her. I wasn’t dating Matt. We were engaged to be married. Our love was real and trial-tested, whereas Chrissy’s only hold on Seth, as far as I could tell, was the baby.

But maybe she sensed that, and maybe her attitude grew out of insecurity.

“I’m sure he’ll move in here when he’s not touring so much.” She hummed and fluttered the drapes. “He wants me to get an ultrasound to see about the gender, but I’m waiting for him.”

“Waiting—what do you mean?”

“I think it’s something we should do together. Hey, are you gonna give me that, or what?” She looked at the flat cardboard box in my hand, one of Matt’s old shirt boxes. I had tied a purple ribbon around it.