Don't Need You - Lilian Monroe Page 0,60

small, red skydiving plane more than ever. Doing this route over and back across the country without Robbie seems even more pointless than it did before.

My thoughts drift back to Serena. “I’ll keep your sister’s room for her,” I say, my throat tightening.

What I want to say is, I care about her. I want to be with her. I want to get off this plane and wait for her, wrap my arms around her and make sure she’s okay.

But I don’t say any of that. Why would I? Now is not the right time. Everything has shifted, and I’m not even sure if Serena is thinking about me at all. My conversation with Robbie earlier seems pointless, now. I wish I hadn’t said anything about my feelings for his sister.

When we finally disembark, Robbie’s departure delays our flight back to Seattle. A replacement pilot gets called in, a boring, older man with a big white mustache. He grunts at me to say hello, and when we board the plane again, I feel the death stares of the grumpy passengers.

I’m sick of this.

I don’t want to be a commercial pilot. I don’t care about the money. The only reason I enjoyed it was because Robbie became a friend to me—the only friend I trusted since my life imploded.

Now?

He’ll be gone for a while. Serena is hurting. I’ll be going back to a cold, quiet house.

My day drags on. I check my phone whenever I can, breathing a sigh of relief when I finally see Serena’s name. She tells me she’s on her way home and apologizes.

My chest aches. By the time my workday is over, I collapse into my room in the staff quarters in Seattle, folding my arms behind my head on the bed as I stare at the ceiling.

The phone rings, and my heart jumps when I see Serena’s name.

“Hey,” I say, breathless. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” Her voice is quiet. “In my childhood bedroom, which is slightly weird.”

I chuckle, relaxing into the pillows as the sound of her voice calms my racing heart. “How’s the family?”

“Surviving. My mother is struggling.”

I grunt in acknowledgement. Warmth flows through my chest, and I feel relieved that Serena wanted to call me. After a day worrying about her—and worrying about us—it’s nice to know she was thinking about me.

“I’m sorry I left,” she says softly.

“Stop. You had to.”

“Yeah.”

Silence hangs between us, my eyes tracing patterns in the popcorn ceiling above. I take a deep breath. “Do you know how long you’ll stay?”

Tension ripples through the phone, hitting me right in the middle of the chest. I almost don’t want to hear what Serena says, so I brace myself for her words.

“I’m not sure,” she answers after a pause. “My mom needs me right now. She’s spending a lot of time at the hospital. Nonna lost her speech and she looks weak. She can’t walk. The doctors don’t know if she’ll recover or how long it might take.”

A sharp inhale tells me Serena’s trying to hold back a sob. I close my eyes, wishing I could wrap my arms around her.

She steadies her breath, letting it out in a low, shaky sigh. “Kit,” she starts, and I know the bad news is coming.

I clear my throat. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to Woodvale. Not yet, at least. I have to be here for my family. My mother will have to take care of my grandmother. We might need to find a home for her, which means we’ll have to clear out Nonna’s house and sell it to pay for her care…” Serena’s words drift off, her pain ringing bright and clear in her voice.

I bite my lip until I taste blood. My heart hurts. It takes me a moment to swallow back the pain before answering, but I manage to get my voice mostly normal.

“I get it,” I say, hoarseness the only evidence I’m struggling.

“I like you, Kit,” Serena whispers. “I really do. It’s just…”

“You don’t have to explain.” I don’t want to hear the excuses. I don’t want her to let me down gently.

It was a fantasy to think I’d found a woman as beautiful, smart, funny, driven—you name it—as Serena. It was never going to work.

“I have feelings for you, Kit.”

My chest collapses. “But…?”

“But I need to be with my family right now.”

“I know.” It doesn’t make it any easier, though.

Another thing I know? This is the beginning of the end. We spent all of what,