Page 11 of The Last Goodbye

Jovi.

Just seeing her name was enough to take the edge off whatever frustration I’d been stewing in a second ago at the guys’ talk of Briar. I answered without thinking twice.

“Hey, how are you, Jov?”

Her voice came through bright and familiar, immediately pulling me out of my head.

“I’m good. Just finished a meeting about all the activities for the commencement ceremony, including practice walking, apparently.”

I leaned back slightly in my chair, the corner of my mouth lifting before I even realized it.

“Practice walking? That sounds…serious.” I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. We’d always been close. We’d had a tough upbringing, and seeing her hit this milestone—it meant something to me, as much as it did her.

“It’s a mandatory practice.” She chuckled. “I’m excited for you guys to come here in a few weeks.”

“Me, too.” I leaned back in my desk chair, crossing my feet at the ankles.

She cleared her throat. “Mom called.”

I leaned forward, my entire body tensing at the mention of our mother.

“What did she want?”

“She asked if I was graduating this year.” I could hear the hesitation in her voice, because this was the one topic we would never agree on. My sister still had empathy for our mother, where I did not. The shit she’d exposed Jovi to—I’d never forgive her for it.

I didn’t give a shit that she’d failed me my entire life. I was used to taking care of myself. I’d been doing it since I was a fucking toddler. I’d grown up quick. I was only six years old when my sister came into the world, and I could swear I became a fucking parent that year.

I’d been looking out for this girl my entire life, and I wouldn’t change a thing—well, aside from her need to fix our mother.

A woman who had no desire to be fixed.

“Seems like she should know that you’re graduating, right?” I tried to tamp down the anger coursing through every inch of my body.

“B,” she said, using the nickname she’d called me her entire life.

“Jov,” I said, mimicking her tone.

“She quit drinking.” She sighed, and I could hear that slight bit of hope in her voice, and it infuriated me. The fact that our mother could do it again and again, and Jovi would believe her every damn time. My sister went on to say the most predictable words. “She wants to come to the graduation.”

I dragged a hand down my face as I exhaled slowly.

Of course she did.

I swallowed back the sarcastic laugh that tried to surface.

“Do you really think Mom is going to fly to New York?” I asked finally, keeping my voice steady, even though it wasn’t what I wanted to say.

There was a pause on the other end, and I regretted my words a fraction too late.

Because I could already hear the shift in joy. The hope tightening into something more fragile. That was the part that pissed me off.

Not that our mother kept breaking promises. It was the way Jovi kept letting herself believe things would be different this time, like the last ten thousand disappointments hadn’t happened at all.

I rubbed my jaw, forcing my tone to soften just slightly.

“Jov,” I said, quieter now. “She says a lot of things.”

Another pause, the silence heavy on the other end of the line.