Page 122 of Darling Venom
I didn’t know what I was waiting for.
For us to be close again? For her to accept my apology? For her to acknowledge my presence?
I’d take any of the three, to be honest.
Unfortunately, I got none.
The television in the background drowned the sound of Leah’s knitting needles clacking together. She frowned at the work in progress on her lap. The fishermen’s rib stitches were uneven at best and the design almost indecipherable.
“Ugh, I love it when Maxwell puts C.C.’s reunion on hold for Fran’s tonsillectomy.” She finished a loop with the yarn before moving on to her back-stitch seam. “So romantic.”
From the doorway, my eyes shifted to the screen, where, sure enough, seconds later, Maxwell put C.C.’s reunion on hold for Fran’s tonsillectomy.
And yeah, it was romantic.
And yeah, Leah watched way too much TV if she’d memorized a show from 1993 with about a hundred and fifty episodes.
You could find your own romance, Leah.
In fact, it may be down the hall.
I didn’t say it, though.
I never spoke my mind around Leah anymore. Not since The Night Of when she’d tossed me a penny for the last time.
I still hadn’t moved from the doorway when Leah decided to shock me.
“Where were you tonight?”
I pointed to myself. “Me?”
“No, the person beside you.”
Even though I knew there was no one there, I turned to my left to double-check. It was that unbelievable to me that my sister would express any level of interest in my life.
My heart began to gallop, gaining speed by the second.
I offered a smile and tried to play it cool. “I got off work late, walked around, and passed by a bar.”
“Did you drink?”
“No.”
“Hmm.”
She turned back to her knitting, ending the conversation.
The gallop came to a halt.
I leaned against the door for support.
Hmm?
That’s it?
That’s the thing about hope. A little of it goes a long way. Far enough to make you stupid. Far enough to make you try.
I kept the conversation going, not that thirty seconds qualified as conversation. “Have you eaten yet?”
