Unforgivable Read online

  “Go take a shower,” she told Benjamin, and gave Mallory a significant look. “You’re next.”

  The twins, age six, were pretty good about the bedtime ritual, even on the exciting days when Auntie came over. Tonight they’d already finished up their dinner and watched a movie. Alice was willing to let them stay up an hour later to read in their rooms, a treat they giggled over like it was a conspiracy. They didn’t know their mom was on board with it.

  When both kids had bathed and been tucked into their beds, and Raj not yet home, Alice went into her sister’s bedroom. Wendy was in bed, a damp cloth over her eyes preventing her from watching the TV, which was muttering in the corner. She shifted when Alice came in, but Alice shushed her.

  “Don’t get up. How’s the head?”

  Wendy waved a languid hand. “Hurts. Meds help.”

  Alice sat on the edge of her sister’s bed. “No kidding. How about you share some of that good stuff with your favorite sister?”

  The comment earned a laugh, weak but genuine. Getting hit by a truck had left Wendy prone to migraines, what the doctors often called cluster headaches. They hit her without warning, not set off by normal triggers, and left her basically unable to function normally until they faded. Alice had been left with scars, but her sister had suffered worse long-term effects.

  “The kids in bed?”

  “Yeah. Reading. Can I get you anything?” Alice yawned, thinking about heading home. Thinking about staying. The distance from here to work was the same as from home, and she’d brought an overnight bag as always, just in case she didn’t feel like making the drive.

  Wendy tugged the cloth up a little bit to peek out. “A new brain?”

  “Girl, you’ve needed one of those since you were born.”

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Wendy protested weakly but laughed anyway. Some color came back into her cheeks. That was good.

  “What time’s Raj supposed to get home?”

  Wendy sighed. “I don’t know. They have him on this huge project, and he wasn’t supposed to need to be at any of these meetings, but . . . you see how that worked out.”

  “No worries. I can stay, if you want. I don’t have anything going on at home.” Alice paused, thinking of Mick.

  They’d talked last night, as they’d done every night for the past two weeks. They’d returned to at least one old habit, their daily “good nights,” though these days they were often made via video chat or text instead of instant message. They’d spent the past weekend together, too, some of it in bed, but most of it actually doing things that were not clothing-optional.

  She wasn’t sure what she thought about all of it. Not yet. Too early.

  She had a letter from him in her bag. It had been waiting for her when she got home from seeing him, and she hadn’t read it yet. In the times of almost instant digital communication, the old-fashioned letters were special. A treat. The anticipation of it was like knowing she had a piece of gourmet chocolate waiting for her. She wanted to savor it.

  She hadn’t yet told Wendy she and Mick were making another go of things.

  “You don’t have to. You can if you want to.” Wendy yawned. “I’m going to sleep, soon. I hope.”

  Alice stood. “Want me to turn off the TV?”

  “No. Hey. Sit a minute.” Wendy patted the bed next to her. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Huh? Nothing.” Alice sat.

  Wendy smiled. “Don’t lie to me. I can hear it in your voice. You’re bursting to tell me something. What is it? Spill!”

  “God, it’s like you got Spidey senses or something going on in there,” Alice said. “Maybe your head hurts so often because you’re having, like, psychic waves.”

  Wendy laughed again, harder this time. “I wish.”

  Alice thought for a moment about what to say. Wendy had been with her through the breakup, but then her sister had been with her through all her breakups. Alice shouldn’t be embarrassed to tell her she’d been hooking up with Mick again.

  “Mick,” she said suddenly, and couldn’t bring herself to say anything else.

  Wendy waited, but when Alice didn’t say anything, she took the cloth off her eyes. “What about him?”

  “He was at Bernie and Cookie’s the last time I went.”

  Wendy’s brows rose. “Did you know he was going to be there?”

  “Yeah. They told me he’d been invited.”

  Wendy’s mouth twisted. “And you went anyway?”

  “It was their anniversary party. It’s been years. I figured it would be okay.”

  “And? Was it?”

  “We . . . um . . .” Alice coughed. “We’re . . . um . . .”

  “Oh, my God,” Wendy said, sitting up in bed fast enough to wince and fall back on the pillows with a groan. “You and Mick? Mick the Dick?”

  “Hey, take it easy. You don’t want to set it off again. You need another pill?” Alice opened the bedside drawer to look for the medicine bottle, but Wendy waved her away.

  “I’ll be fine. It’s fading, thank God. But you and Mick. I, wow. Can’t believe it. That guy broke you, Alice. I mean, really broke you.” Wendy paused. “Sorry, but it’s the truth.”

  “I know. Believe me, I remember.”

  Wendy’s eyes widened a little. “How did this even happen? I mean at the party, sure, but then . . . ?”

  “He showed up at my house.”

  “Oh.” Wendy paused. “He likes to do that, huh? That’s only a little creepy.”

  Alice burst into laughter. “Stop!”

  “I’m just saying.” Wendy grinned.

  “He said he wanted me more than he’s ever wanted any woman. Ever.”

  Wendy didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Wow. That’s something, huh?”

  “It’s dick feelings,” Alice said flatly. “Dick feelings don’t count.”

  “How do you feel about it?”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I went there for the weekend. He was there. The second I saw him, it was like I’d been in a dark room and someone came in and turned on all the lights.” Alice blinked rapidly, remembering. “Only it didn’t hurt my eyes. It just made me able to see everything that had been in shadows before.”

  “Oh, shit,” Wendy said softly.

  “Yeah. So. For now I’m just seeing what happens. I mean, people don’t change, do they?”

  “Sure they do. All the time.” Wendy patted Alice’s hand.

  “I don’t feel like I have.”

  Wendy made a face, gingerly, as though it hurt. “Has he? That might be the important question.”

  “He’s trying hard to act like he has.”

  “Well,” Wendy said. “There’s that.”

  Alice’s phone chirped from her pocket and she slid it out, anticipating a text from Mick. It was Bill. She swiped the screen to see the message, laughed a little, and typed out a quick reply. When she looked up, Wendy was staring.

  “Was that him?”

  “No, that was some other guy. Bill. I met him a few weeks ago. He keeps texting me,” Alice said.

  “Are you seeing him?”

  “I’ve seen him,” Alice said. “A couple of times. Not recently. Not since Mick. But I don’t have to stop talking to Bill just because Mick suddenly decided he made a huge mistake and wants me back,” Alice said.

  “You don’t have to explain that to me.” Wendy reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and sipped it. “Nothing wrong with keeping your options open.”

  “It’s not . . . I’m not . . .” Alice shut up. There was no point in lying to her sister, even if she’d been lying to herself. “I like Bill.”

  “That’s okay.”

  Alice shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, it’s okay to like him. He’s nice. He makes me laugh.”

  “But he’s no Mick.”

  “He also didn’t roll over my heart in an eighteen wheeler, then put it in reverse so he could back up and roll over it again,” Alice said d