I key in the passcode to Grayson’s penthouse and freeze when the door opens before I finish going through his countless security measures.
Aria leans against the doorway, a worried look in her eyes. “It’s three in the morning,” she says. “How are you here?”
Grayson appears behind her and places a hand on her shoulder. “Come in, buddy,” he says, no questions asked. I follow him in and pause in the hallway. The last time I was here, I was with Amara. I push away every thought of her, barely able to bear the pain.
Aria tips her head toward the living room, and I follow her, my steps heavy, reluctant. I have to tell her, but I know that the second I do that, everything between Amara and me is truly over.
Grayson holds up a whiskey glass, and I take it gratefully, emptying it in one go. It doesn’t even remotely numb the pain, but that’s only because I haven’t had enough yet. I’d give anything to drown out the memories tonight. Not just of Amara, but of my parents. Of Aria refusing to speak for years, the countless times I had to sit beside her as night terrors haunted her. How do I tell my sister that I fell for the daughter of our parents’ murderer? How do I explain that I brought her into their home? Where do I even begin to ask for forgiveness?
Grayson sits down next to Aria, his face expressionless, and I shake my head. He used to always be by my side, but tonight I’m grateful Aria has him. She’ll need him to endure what I’m about to tell her.
“Aria,” I say, my voice wavering. “Amara is Peter Simmons’ daughter.”
She looks at me, and I can’t quite describe her expression. She looks resigned, wary. Aria nods, her movements slow. “I know, Noah.”
I stare at her, not quite comprehending her words. “You… know?”
She nods. “I knew who she was the second I first heard her name. Amara… it isn’t a very common name.”
I look at my sister wide-eyed, my mind whirling. “You knew, and you welcomed her with open arms?”
Aria nods, her expression guarded. “She is not her father.”
I rise to my feet, my anger overflowing. “What the fuck, Aria? What the fuck do you mean she’s not her father? I fucking know that, but she’s still that man’s daughter. How could you welcome her into your home? How could you not have told me? How could you let me…”
Aria crosses her arms, her eyes flashing with anger. “Let you what? Fall in love? Be happy for once?”
“Happy?” I repeat. “How could you watch me fall in love with her without a single warning? How could you, when you knew she and I were on borrowed time?”
Aria stands up, her expression one I’ve never seen on her before. She looks angry, but there’s also understanding and compassion in her eyes. She lacks the sadness I’ve come to expect to find in her eyes.
“I could, and I did, because she is not him. Amara doesn’t deserve to be punished for crimes she didn’t commit. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me she isn’t the best thing that ever happened to you? That she didn’t make you happy in a way you didn’t think you could ever be?”
I fall silent, unable to refute her words. “Aria… her family… God, I can’t even begin to describe what they’ve done. They covered up Mom and Dad’s murder. There isn’t a trace of news available anywhere. It happened a few years ago. All of a sudden, there were no articles about the burglary anymore. They tried to cover it up.”
Aria shakes her head. “No, Noah. They didn’t. I did.”
Grayson nods and places his hand on Aria’s shoulder in silent support. He knew. My best friend knew as much as my sister did, and neither of them told me.
“Why? Why the fuck would you do that?”
Aria sighs and looks away. “I didn’t want that to be the last piece of news about them. Mom and Dad have done so much, they’ve contributed to so many charities, and they were so well-loved. I wanted the good they did to be what people would find when they look up our parents. I was tired of the past haunting us, of everyone knowing what we’d gone through. When you and I changed our last names, I also removed every trace of that horrible day. I wanted a fresh start, and I wanted to preserve the memories of Mom and Dad that mattered most. The articles still exist, they just aren’t indexed by search engines.”
I still remember how ruthless the kids were at the first few schools Aria and I attended. A simple search for our names told people much more than we were willing to disclose, and I remember how hard it was, how painful it was to constantly be reminded of the way we lost our parents. It felt like it was impossible to escape the sorrow, the pitying looks. I can’t blame Aria for what she did, but I can’t help but feel betrayed.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t understand.”
She shakes her head. “Noah, we’d finally gotten onto our feet. I just didn’t want to explain why I felt the need to do what I did. I didn’t want to bring it up.”
I swallow hard, my mind instantly replaying me trying to get Aria to talk. She had it much harder than I did.
“Ari, still… the Astors, they approached me knowing who I was.”
She nods. “They did, but they didn’t do it to harm you, Noah. Do you remember the partial scholarship you received when you thought you’d have to drop out of school? I traced that back to Harold Astor. As you and I grew older, I started keeping tabs on Peter Simmons and his family. It took me years to realize it, because Harold was clever, and he only ever gifted us amounts that didn’t raise suspicion, but eventually I saw the pattern. That man… he’s been looking out for us for years. I admit, he was likely motivated by guilt, but he didn’t have to do any of it at all.”
“Look out for us,” I repeat, incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? The man fired me and made it impossible for me to find another job. His family tore ours apart, and now he’s ruining my career, Aria.”
She nods and looks away. “He’s desperate, that’s for sure. I was surprised when he offered you a job, because he’s always kept his distance. I guess he truly saw potential in you, and watching from the sidelines was no longer enough. The man has monitored us and our performance for years. I guess he wanted to help but never expected you to fall for Amara. I won’t pretend to know what he’s thinking, but I suspect he was trying to break you two apart before either of you realized how the past connects you.”
I glance at Gray, diverting my anger to him. “Are you hearing this? How the fuck is she so calm? Did you know all of this?”
He nods. “I knew, and I support Aria’s decisions. She did what she had to do to protect your happiness, and I think she’s right. I don’t think Harold Astor is harmful, despite him firing you. He’s desperate, just like Aria says, but he’s not a bad man. Ari has been keeping tabs on that family for years. If there was something to worry about, she’d have intervened.”
I stare at the two of them in disbelief. “How the fuck is all of this okay with you? They ruined our family and then fucking invaded our privacy, acting like we’re fucking charity cases.”
Aria crosses her arms and sighs. “We were, Noah. Half the time we could barely afford to put food on the table.”
“Because of them!” I yell, wishing I could get through to her.
Aria just shakes her head. “No. Because of Peter Simmons. Stop blaming an entire family for the actions of just one man.” She inhales deeply and looks away. “Noah, you know as well as I do that the weapon that killed our parents was Dad’s. I’ve gone through the case hundreds of times. He didn’t expect Mom and Dad to be home. There was a struggle, and Dad must’ve pulled his gun. Peter Simmons didn’t even steal anything expensive. All he took was food and some of my clothes. He was trying to provide for his family.”
She runs a hand through her hair and shakes her head. “I’m not trying to make any excuses, Noah… but you have to acknowledge that he paid for his crimes. He served his sentence.”
“Are you fucking with me right now?” I ask her, in disbelief. “He murdered our parents, Aria. I don’t give a fuck how it happened or why. Mom and Dad aren’t with us today because of him.”
“I get that you’re angry, Noah. I get it. But that same anger will hurt you more than it will anyone else. Let it consume you if you want, but I won’t stand here and support your self-destruction.”
She walks past me, slamming her bedroom door closed, her calm demeanor slipping for just a second. Gray winces at the sounds and looks at me through narrowed eyes, like I’m the one at fault here.
“She’s fucking crazy,” I tell him.
He pours me another glass and nods. “Yeah, she is. But she isn’t wrong. Aria kept tabs on him from the second he was released and it took her months to make peace with the situation. She might act like she’s fine now, but it took her months to get where she is now. It’ll take you some time, too. I do think Aria is right, though. Amara is not her father.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to do, man? I can’t love Amara. I can’t be with her. Not her.”
Gray nods and lifts his glass to his lips. “Would your mother have loved her? Forget about Amara’s father for just a second and tell me… would she have loved Amara?”
I empty my glass and reach for the bottle. “If only it were that simple, Gray. Mom will never even get to know Amara, because of her father. I won’t ever be able to look at her again without being reminded of who she is, of what her father took from us.”
Gray nods. “So you’ll rob yourself of a happy future, the way her father robbed your parents of theirs?”
I stare at him, wishing I had an answer for him.
