Page 60 of Love and Lies

“You like him?” Lincoln repeated incredulously, closing his eyes in exasperation, as though she’d just confirmed his worst fears. “Is that code for I’m sleeping with him?”

“No, it is not,” Helena replied quietly, in full control of her facial expression. It was the truth, but I got the sense that she’d thought about it—and I couldn’t stop my own mind from wandering to what might have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted.

Lincoln wasn’t buying it. “Do you have any idea what it would mean for our family if this thing with you and him got out? How much damage it could do?”

“You think I care about our standing in a society that holds Valerie responsible for her and Adam’s deaths? I don’t give a shit what people think!”

“And what about what I think, or Mom and Dad? Do you give a shit about us?” Lincoln asked furiously. “Because it’ll be us who have to face the repercussions, just like with Val! I thought you’d learned from her mistakes.”

Helena shook her head. “What mistakes were those? Being herself? Being in a relationship with someone she loved? Or dying?”

It was moving, the way she saw Valerie—how she always went to bat for her sister in spite of everything people said about her. And she clearly believed something that hadn’t properly landed with me until tonight: Adam and Valerie had really loved each other.

Lincoln took a good look at his sister, and I saw disappointment in his eyes. “What’s wrong with you? You used to know what it meant to be a Weston.”

“Yes, and I also used to blindly do what I was told and believe people were telling the truth! But look around—Mom and Dad, you and Paige… it’s all fake.”

“Fake? Did he tell you that? Trying to get you to be like him? Did he tell you that family means nothing as long as you’re living your best life?”

I almost let out a derisive snort: he was as wrong as it was possible to be. I was full of ego when I’d left New York City, but things were different now—and my life was a long way off what I wanted it to be. I could see from Helena’s expression that she was about to say so, but then she simply pursed her lips and said nothing.

Her brother rubbed his forehead. “I can’t believe that whole Westwell shit is repeating itself,” he said. Under his breath, but audible all the same.

“Who says it’s repeating itself?” Helena asked. “Jess and I aren’t Valerie and Adam. What happened to them has nothing to do with us.”

“It has everything to do with you, Helena,” Lincoln spluttered. “What you do, or don’t do, is extremely important for us. And if Mom and Dad find out you’ve been seeing Jessiah… well, you know what’ll happen.”

Even I knew that. She’d told me when she came to my apartment to get Valerie’s sweater: she’d be sent straight back to England. Something suspiciously like fear stirred in me then, and I realized how much I didn’t want her to disappear from my life before she’d even really become a part of it.

“Are you going to tell them?” she asked.

“No. What would that achieve? They’d send you into exile again, and things with Trish Coldwell would get even more acrimonious. But I’m only going to keep quiet if you stay away from Jessiah from here on. You have to forget about him. You understand that, right?”

There was a short pause, then finally Helena took a breath. “Yes,” I heard her say, and my insides tightened painfully at that one little word. “I understand.”

Lincoln let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Now let’s get out of here before someone comes looking for us.”

He held the curtain to one side, and they went out into the hallway and back toward the function room.

Rooted to the spot, I tried to understand why it had been so hard to hear Helena say she was going to stay away from me, when I knew without a doubt it was the right thing to do. But it wasn’t our decision, and that made me crazy. That Helena and I didn’t get to choose, that we couldn’t just find out what this thing was between us and where it was going. That was why it hurt so much—because I’d probably never find out what that girl could have been to me.

I pulled myself together, and for a moment I thought about heading back to my room, ditching my suit, and just blowing off the rest of the night. Or even better, taking off altogether, grabbing my board, driving to the beach, and reclaiming some freedom. But I knew it wasn’t just Lincoln who had eyes on me, it was my mother, too. I’d agreed to come tonight, so I’d have to see this through.

I went back into the reception room, back to our table, where at that moment dessert was being served. Helena was already in her seat again, a napkin in her hands, making an effort to pretend everything was okay. And although she smiled and kept up the conversation with her neighbors, I could tell she was having a hard time keeping up the facade. And when our eyes met again, I knew it for sure. I wanted more than anything to get up, go over there and kiss her, leaving everyone else in the room gasping in shock. To make it clear, once and for all, that it didn’t matter one bit what our last names were. But of course I couldn’t do that.

I forced myself back to my senses. I didn’t want Helena to see what I was thinking and make it even harder for her. Instead, I retreated into myself, shutting down my feelings and pasting an aloof smile on my face before I turned away, picked up my spoon, and pretended to be fascinated by my dessert. A storm raged inside me, but on the outside I was totally calm. I played my role. That was what these people did, after all.

No, that was wrong.

It was what people like me did.

27 Helena

At some point after midnight I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to even think about sleeping. Lincoln’s words kept going around in my head.

But I’m only going to keep quiet if you stay away from Jessiah from here on. You have to forget about him. You understand that, right?

Even hours later, his words left a dull ache in my gut, because I knew what it meant. It meant I couldn’t decide for myself who I fell in love with, or who I was with. And above all, it meant that I could never be with Jess. Why did I even tell Lincoln? I was probably hoping my brother might understand. But he hadn’t. The opposite, in fact. He’d given me an ultimatum, and I’d accepted it, when in reality I wanted to yell no so loud through the entire hotel that it made every single dinner guest fall off their chair. I’d pretended to understand, but I didn’t get it at all. The worst part, though, was when I was sitting at our table again and Jess came back. I didn’t know if he’d heard our conversation, but he avoided making eye contact from that point on, then made his exit as soon as he could without seeming rude. I saw him speaking to his mother and some business associates after that, but when I noticed Lincoln watching me, I followed Jess’s lead and pretended we didn’t know each other. If I didn’t want to risk being sent back to England and losing my chance to clear Valerie’s name, I had to do it. But I didn’t have any idea how.