Page 13 of To Regret a Raven

He nodded. “I know that. I’m an asshole, but I’m an asshole who is still shamelessly asking you not to cut me out entirely. I want to be friends when you’re ready.”

She sighed. “You meanif.”

“When.” The words were harsh, demanding, born of desperation and a terrible sense of foreboding that he’d alreadygone and destroyed any possibility of friendship by pursuing a relationship in the first place. But hehadto try. He could fix this.

“Sure, Fisher. When.” The words were weary, her voice detached. He didn’t buy it for a second. “I’m going inside now. Get home safe.”

“Drie, please. I’m sorry!” The door had already slammed shut by the time he’d finished his sentence. For a beat, he simply watched in horror as she hurried back up to her building, her frame hunched. The image tore at him viscerally, like she had dug her way into his soul and had ripped a fragment out with her when she jumped from the truck.

The ache was what drove him from his seat. It wasn’t right. Fisher didn’t understand it, but he knew he had just fucked up something important. Something vital. But by the time he’d reached the locked doors of her building, she was already stepping into the elevator across the lobby.

Her eyes met his as she faced the doors, and the bright glistening he saw nearly brought him to his knees. Long after the doors slipped shut, he remained on the stoop, wondering,why, if this isn’t love, does it have to hurt so fucking much?

6

FRENCH TOAST

Drie’s phone buzzed, lighting up on the kitchen island as five matching brunette heads turned to watch it vibrate on the granite.

“Is that himagain?” Nellie dropped her crochet hook with a snarl. Given that the only two facts her sisters had to go on were that a breakup had occurred and that she was upset enough to make the three-hour drive home, Drie felt a surge of affection for her violent little sibling.

“It’s barely seven in the morning. Unless one of you four just butt-dialed me…” She trailed off with a helpless shrug.

“What is it with this guy?” Sam huffed, her chocolate eyes narrowing in a remarkably uncharacteristic manner. Drie eyed her stoic older sister, marveling over how identical the indignant expression was to Nellie’s, and how it only served to strengthen the uncanny resemblance between the two.

Sam and Nellie fell second and fourth in the lineup, with a four-year age gap between them, but they were the only two in the group whotrulylooked like sisters. Because while Jeden, Drie, and Rosy got most of their looks from their respective fathers, Sam and Nellie were the spitting image of their mother.“Can I just answer and tell him to fuck off?” Sam continued, glancing back toward Drie with hope in her eyes.

Nellie began nodding in earnest, pushing her yarn onto the cushion beside her as she made to get up. Drie’s hand on her shoulder pulled her back onto the couch.

“No,” she answered, her voice firm. “Just let it be. I don’t know what his game is, but I’m not playing. If he wants to call every five minutes or type messages until his thumbs fall off, he can knock himself out.”

“But—”

“No.”

“No fun.” Nellie slumped back, crossing her arms with an indignant huff. Drie shook her head in exasperation. She twisted back around to see if anybody else was paying attention to Nellie’s teenage dramatics, but she was brought up short at the glances being exchanged behind her, loaded looks being passed around like a gathering of mother hens.

Drie was tempted to start clucking at the three of them when Jeden leaned forward in her seat, her gaze intent. Her hazel eyes were brought into sharp focus as she scanned Drie’s face slowly through her thick, squared, black-rimmed glasses.

To some, the moment may have felt intimidating, but she was well-acquainted with her sister’s careful perusal. Jeden’s vision was deteriorating faster than the doctors had ever anticipated, and although Drie was feeling particularly vulnerable that morning, she wouldn’t begrudge her sister the ability to see her face. It was such a simple thing that the rest of them took for granted.

“You love him,” Jeden said gently.

Drie finally looked away, toward the window overlooking the backyard where Rosy’s flower garden was planted. The sun shone brightly that morning on the bees petal-hopping andthe hummingbirds flitting between the surplus of blazing red feeders filled with sugar water.

“Have you talked it out? Could it be a misunderstanding?” she asked.

Drie turned her gaze from the window and met Jeden’s eyes. “He doesn’t loveme.”

Sam rubbed a hand over her mouth, one brow arching high upon her forehead. “Surely, he didn’t actually say that.”

Jeden frowned, squinting hard at Drie. “You’ve only been together a few months. You wouldn’t have ended things over that.”

“I didn’t.Hedid.” She sighed to a chorus of gasps. “I’m paraphrasing here, but he told me he doesn’t love me. He never will…” The words caught on the lump in her throat, so she coughed twice before continuing, her voice dropping to a whisper as she forced the words out, “And it makes him feel bad to know that I love him.”

“He fucking said fucking what?” Nellie shouted.

“He also said he still wants to be my friend,” Drie continued, ignoring Nellie jumping back to her feet, crochet hook clenched tightly in hand, looking for all the world like she intended to use it for murder. “And based on the fact that he’s been calling and texting nonstop, it seems he may have actually meant it.” She dropped her head into her hands, feeling exhausted.