Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Van

I've said it many times before—Parker is a genius.

But … having my sisters come surprise me?

This falls under the accidental evil genius category.

Parker couldn't have known why this is the absolutely worst possible timing. And the worst idea—to invite my sisters and to leave them in a room alone with Amelia. I'm honestly surprised they all walked out of the room.

My sisters are brutal. Callie and Alex, anyway. Actually, Greyson is the one I'd worry about the most, but it would take a LOT to get her mad enough to exact revenge. And then she'd find a way to ruin your life with a sweet smile on her face.

Knowing what I'm personally in for with my sisters is why I took my sweet time getting home. Now that they know what I didn't tell them—the tiny little detail about my marriage—they will have words for me. A lot of them.

Probably not unlike whatever words Coach had for Amelia. I hope she's okay.

It's why I'm standing on my own porch, hesitating with my forehead against the door of the little craftsman bungalow I started leasing a few months ago.

Because they're in there. Waiting.

I swear, I can hear them breathing.

"No sense just standing there, baby brother." Alex's voice through the Ring doorbell makes me jump.

I take a step back from the door, glaring toward the tiny camera. "I did actually hear you breathing, then. I thought I was imagining it."

"Nope." It's Callie this time, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "We've been watching you."

"And listening," Lex adds.

"That doesn't sound terrifying," I mutter. "Wait—and how are you talking to me through my system?"

"Oh, sweet brother," Callie says. "You underestimate my skills."

When she was younger, we sometimes called Callie the computer whisperer. She took apart her first computer when she was nine. Put it back together and in working order—with modifications—the next year. She developed an app at sixteen and hacked into our school's servers her senior year. Not to change her grades but just for—as she put it—funsies.

I guess taking over my own Ring doorbell system shouldn't be surprising.

"Looks like somebody's having a bad day," Alexandra says in a faux pitying tone.

"Or a bad couple of weeks," Callie says. "Maybe you should come in and talk about the marriage you forgot to tell us about?"

"We'll be nice," Lex says sweetly. Too sweetly.

"We're the nicest." Callie's tone suggests otherwise. She sounds like the Big Bad Wolf telling Red that his big eyes are better to see you with, my dear.

I snort. "You know this is not making me feel any better about coming in there."

The deadbolt pulls back. I take another step away from the door, the instinct to run strong . The doorknob turns and the door creaks open. Just a few inches. Enough to make this feel like my own personal horror movie.

It's stupid. But my heart is speeding along like a runaway train, and my eyes dart from the door to the windows along the front of the house.

I don't see anything. But … they're there .

"Don't be silly, Van," Lex says. "Just come inside. We're family ."

"Yeah. Which means you have fewer lines you won't cross. Because you know I'll forgive you."

"I'm not sure you're the one who should be talking about forgiveness," Callie says. "At least, not about being the one to give it."

"Maybe you should think about asking for it," Lex says.

It's then I realize they've been distracting me from what I should have already realized by now.

I swallow, glancing around the porch. "Where's Grey?"

"What do you mean?" Callie asks innocently.

"Greyson hasn't said anything," I say, keeping one eye on the cracked open door but also glancing around. "Where is she?"

"She was just right here," Lex says. "Darn. Where ever could she have gone?"

The sound registers just as I feel something hitting me in the back. Hard .

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Again and again, I'm struck in the back, my butt, and down the backs of my legs.

Instinctively, I cover my face and huddle against the house.

They're just paintballs , I tell myself. Because this would not be the first time. But it's still terrifying when you're not expecting to be shot with them. And direct hits with paintballs aren't exactly pleasant.

"Grey! Enough!" I bellow.

The shots stop. I drop my hands and turn toward the front yard. And jump when one more shot rings out. This one hits way too close to my crotch, leaving a purple splotch just inches to the right of my fly.

"Greyson," I growl. "I swear …"

Movement catches my eye, and Greyson belly crawls out from the bushes between my house and the next door neighbor's wearing a camo suit. Her face is covered in greasepaint, really almost invisible except for the white of her smile. She's even got on some kind of fancy goggles covering her eyes.

This is why Grey is the one people should be the most afraid of.

She stands, slinging the gun over her camo-clad shoulder.

Here's the thing: this is all ridiculous. I'm upset about Amelia and about Coach. My teammates all seem ready to kill me. I should not be in the mood for my sisters' teasing or their paintballing.

But this is so familiar. Not the specifics of being stalked and shot with paintballs by Grey. In the general sense, though, this is how we operate—all up in each other's business, being supportive and also unrelenting.

Maybe my life is still the same mess it was five minutes ago, but there's a sense of lightness now I didn't have before.

"Someone found the army supply store," I say, looking her up and down. "And my paintball gun."

"I actually brought the suit with me. You never know when you might need it." Greyson lifts the goggles, perching them on top of her head as she hops up the steps and gives me a side hug. "I didn't get to do this earlier," she says, like she didn't just shoot me up with a paintball gun. "Good to see you, big brother."

"I guess it's good to see you too." I hug her back, then ruffle her hair, distracting her as I disarm her.

"Hey!" she protests as I take the gun. "No fair."

"All's fair in love and family."

When I glance up, Callie and Lex are in my doorway. I can't tell if they're trying to present a united front or just blocking me from entering my own house.

"Who gave you a key?" I ask.

"Parker told us where you keep it," Grey says cheerfully. "I like her, by the way."

"Yeah, well. I don't think she likes me very much," I say, shaking my head.

"Come on," Grey says, resting her cheek on my chest and getting greasepaint all over my shirt. "Let's go inside and discuss your heartbreak and your quickie marriage?—"

"How was it even legal, by the way?" Lex wants to know, ever the lawyer. "Florida isn't Vegas. There are waiting periods and fees."

I've wondered this myself. "The officiant worked for the resort and had a certificate we signed. He said something about residents and non-residents and … I don't know. Amelia has the paperwork. Unless she threw it away. Which at this point is highly possible," I mutter.

"Come on," Callie says. "Stop standing on the porch."

"Do you promise to be nice? No more paintballs?"

"No promises," Callie says as she and Lex step back, making space for us to enter the house. "But we promise we'll still be family in the end."

"Family first," Grey says, and I drop a kiss on top of her head. She smells like greasepaint and dirt.

"Family first," I echo, then lean down and whisper to Grey, "But I will get you back for this."

"Counting on it," she says with a smile.

It's amazing how my sisters, in a few hours, can make my house feel like theirs and I'm the visitor. The three of them are lined up on my couch with me in an armchair. They look a little like a tribunal about to come down with a verdict. Except I guess Grey's paintballs satisfied their anger with me over keeping this secret.

Now, they're concerned.

"So, that's it? That's the whole sordid tale?" Callie asks.

Once we sat down and Grey washed her face, I told them everything. Start to finish, from meeting Amelia the very first night in the restaurant—which they knew about, just not the details—to waking up alone and then the kiss in the stairwell followed by Amelia reiterating that it's over.

"That's everything."

Lex sighs. "It would make a good movie. All the drama. The romance."

"All it needs is a happy ending," Grey says with a smile.

"I'm not so sure that's possible," I say, sinking deeper into the chair.

They exchange glances, having the kind of silent conversation I've grown used to watching over the years. We're all close, but the three of them have something a little extra.

I'm not sure if they group themselves by age on purpose, or if they naturally just happen to end up oldest to youngest most of the time. It's also in order of darkest to lightest hair.

A running joke is that Mom and Dad's genes ran out of pigment by the fourth kid. Callie's long hair is almost black, mine only a few shades lighter than hers. Alex's chin-length hair is chestnut brown, and Greyson has wild, golden brown curls.

Seeing them this way, I catalog all the subtle changes since I saw them at Christmas. Lex has dark circles no concealer could touch, and I hope things are okay with her husband.

Greyson looks about the same, though her skin is a little pink from scrubbing off the camo paint. She missed a few spots of dark green, making her complexion look slightly moldy.

Callie's lines all seem harsher somehow, from the firm set of her mouth to the blade-sharp edge of her winged eyeliner. I should check in on her more. I think it's easy for us all to forget that the oldest and toughest one of us isn't impervious to hurt.

It's hard not to worry about the three of them, even when I'm the one currently in crisis.

"I like your house," Grey says brightly. "By the way."

Lex nods. "This is a step up from the last apartment. Still looks like a bachelor pad."

"You got a fish," Callie says. It comes out like an accusation.

I'm run a hand through my hair, trying to figure out how we went from talking about my secret, possibly not-quite-legal marriage to my house and my beta fish.

"He's new," I say.

Theodore is bright green, and when I saw him in the pet store, he immediately reminded me of Alvin and the Chipmunks. As to why I felt the need to go to a pet store and buy a fish after lying to Amelia about having one, I don't know. It just seemed important at the time.

And maybe I was lonely.

Turns out, fish aren't great company, but he is a good listener. We've had some long, one-way conversations lately. The best thing about him? No judgment. Although, I deeply suspect he doesn't care what I tell him so long as I keep the fish food coming.

"I always saw you as more of a dog person than a fish person," Grey says.

"I'm not home enough for a dog. A fish is about the only thing I could handle aside from a pet rock or a Chia Pet."

"Could we please get back on track?" Lex says, leaning forward.

"I think he went off-track two weeks ago." Callie points an accusing finger at me. "You got married ."

"I did."

"You lied to us," Lex says.

"I didn't tell you."

"You lie of omissioned us," Grey says. "The same thing you did to Amelia, by the way."

I tug at the collar of my shirt, resisting the urge to rub a hand over my sternum. It won't ease the ache. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"We would have been there," Grey adds tearfully.

"We wanted to be there." Lex sniffs. "I mean, not at this exact wedding, since we didn't know it was happening. But generally speaking, we wanted to be there on your wedding day."

"Why didn't you ask us?" Callie clenches her jaw. Even so, I don't miss the slight wobble.

Fabulous. Now I've made my sisters cry. Even the one who guards her tears like a dragon keeps its gold.

I lean back, drag my hands through my hair, and then press the heels of my hands into my eyes until I see stars. "You know I would've wanted you there. It literally was the most impulsive decision I've ever made."

The thing is … I would make the same decision again.

Only if I could do so in a world where Amelia wouldn't regret it.

"An impulsive decision about something so big ," Callie says, like she's disappointed in me.

"Why?" Grey asks. More like pleads .

I close my eyes, remembering. Not just Amelia's bright eyes and wide smile as she told me she had an idea and started dragging me toward the reception on the beach.

I remember her face at the zoo when she told me I was more than just a casual, fun guy and the way she laughed when she kicked off a platform to zoom over ponds full of gators.

The way she told me I'm more than just a casual, fun guy. More than the surface everyone sees.

I recall her eyes fluttering closed as I kissed her. How her body folded so perfectly against mine.

Then I remember the note and how it felt when I realized what she wrote.

"It happened so fast."

"So fast you couldn't even call us," Callie says, and Lex shushes her. "I mean, we talked to you, what—the day before?"

"I don't mean just the wedding happened fast. I mean that with Mills—Amelia—I felt everything fast. I … fell fast."

"You fell," Lex says, sniffling again. "Like, in love?"

"No, dummy. Into a pit of snakes. Yes, in love ."

This is the first time I've admitted this out loud to someone other than Amelia. It feels just as true as when I said it to her, under the stars and twinkle lights, reciting the classic wedding vows before the officiant pronounced us man and wife. I said it again and again that night, and I remember how it felt saying those words to her when I'd never said them to a woman before.

My stomach sours.

"I never thought this day would come," Callie says, pressing a hand to her heart. She definitely has tears in her eyes, though she hasn't yet allowed one to fall.

Grey beams. "I could tell on the phone when we talked to you."

"Why wasn't I on this call?" Callie complains.

"You were busy," Lex says. Then to me: "You really do love her?"

I nod, trying to unclench my jaw. "It's not like it only happened in those four days. There was the night we met, when I wanted to ask her out on a real date—until I saw her dad. I kept thinking about her, though it was like a back of mind thing. Until Coach invited us to her wedding." Even now, my lip curls. "I've been a mess ever since. It's impacted my mood, my game, and my other game."

I say the last part mostly to get a reaction, and sure enough, a pillow flies by my head.

"No one calls it game anymore," Lex says. "It's gross."

"And demeaning," Callie adds.

"I was kidding." Mostly.

"It's rizz now," says Greyson. "Not game."

"Then it affected my rizz."

"Or lack thereof?" Grey suggests with a smile.

Grey is quickly becoming my least favorite sister. But it's hard to get too annoyed when I can still see camo paint inside the shell of her ear.

"So, you haven't been dating anyone else?" Lex asks.

"Not for a long while."

I actually don't remember the last date I went on or the last time I went out with the guys, hoping to meet someone. It's been like it was with the reporter today—I just haven't seen other women. Haven't wanted to. The guys had teased me about it a few times, but it's not like I could tell them I had a thing for Coach's daughter after meeting her once and talking for an hour.

Also, a lot of my closest friends on the team have been distracted finding their own women.

"I don't like her," Lex says with a frown. "She left you."

"With just a note. After marrying you." Callie shakes her head. "Wait—was it really her idea?"

"It was. But I was on board."

"What I don't understand is why ," Grey says, lip trembling. "Why she wanted to get married so soon after her engagement ended. But more—why you agreed to it. To a marriage , Robbie."

She doesn't need to say more. We have an understanding, the four of us.

Mom and Dad really did a number on us as far as marriages go. Torching their own and then going through rapid-fire speed marriages wreaked havoc on our formative years. We've all internalized in different, unhealthy ways.

Callie wouldn't date at all for years . I dated anyone and everyone, but wouldn't commit. Grey went through a thankfully short period where she embodied the daddy issues stereotype—latching onto a series of total losers, desperate for someone to love her. Lex poured herself into work. Had Mitch not really pursued her, she'd probably still be married to her job.

A few years back, the four of us sat down and hashed out our issues with marriage. Over a few bottles of wine, which seems to be the best way to ease into a conversation about the trauma your parents caused, we agreed to look out for each other. Point out any unhealthy behaviors and coping mechanisms. Offer support as needed.

And, above all, NOT repeat our parents' mistakes.

Which meant when and if we got married, we would do our level best to make it forever .

"Do you think she loves you?" Grey's question comes with uncharacteristic softness.

Doesn't soften how it lands.

"I don't know. She was still reeling from what her fiancé did, and probably wasn't in a place to know for sure."

Lex leans forward. "So, why'd you marry her? If you knew she wasn't in a good place mentally or emotionally, why? "

I've asked myself the same question. A lot.

The thing is … I don't like the answer.

"I think because I wanted it to be true," I admit. "I wanted Amelia to love me. And maybe I thought …" Now I'm the one holding back tears. I breathe through it until I can speak again. "Maybe I thought she'd change her mind if we waited."

There's a little sound from one of my sisters. A squeak, followed by a sniff. I can't look at them, so I stare at the rug.

"Should I have waited on the marriage part? Yeah, probably. But I also don't know that I regret it. I went to talk to the team lawyer about getting it annulled. But then, I couldn't go through with asking. I realized it's because … I don't want to."

"You want to stay married to her after she left you? " Callie asks.

"In her defense, that text was pretty damning," Lex says. "But I'm still mad at her."

Grey sniffs and offers me a watery smile. "Poor Amelia. And poor you. I would have paid all the cheese to come. A whole giant wheel of cheese." She stretches out her hands on either side of her head.

I can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, Grey. All of you—I'm sorry. No one needs to pay me in cheese for something like this. I should have told you. I would have wanted you there."

It's true. I wasn't thinking about my sisters while I was marrying Amelia—which is a good thing when you think about it—but now that I'm looking back, it's wrong they weren't there. As bridesmaids or my best women or just as my sisters .

I may not regret marrying Amelia—not completely, anyway—but I absolutely regret not having my sisters there.

"What do you need?" Lex asks. "How can we support you? I know Parker flew us in for the playoffs, not knowing any of this, but the timing is perfect."

"You needed us, but you wouldn't have called," Grey adds. "But now we're here!"

And then she crosses the room to throw her arms around me, giving me the hug I didn't know I needed. It's a little awkward since I'm slouched in a chair, but still perfect. I close my eyes, as much to hold back the tears as anything.

Soon, there are more arms going around me, the weight of another sister and then another.

"This doesn't mean I fully forgive you for not telling us," Callie whispers in my ear. "Or Amelia for leaving you."

"Same," Lex says. "But I'm getting there."

"Thanks."

Grey chimes in. "I'm not mad at anyone. I just want to help you fix this so we can have another sister and then you can have a bunch of babies and we can be the best aunts ever."

"A little too soon to talk about babies," Callie says.

"They're married," Grey points out. "I can talk about babies if I want."

"They probably need to work this out before they think about kids," says Alex.

We're still in the middle of a messy, four-person hug turning into a close-up bickering match about babies when there's a knock at the front door.

I freeze. No one ever comes by my house.

My first thought is that it's Amelia.

Which can't be right. She may be my wife, but she doesn't know where I live.

What's more likely—Alec is coming to talk to me about my decisions and how they're affecting the team. Or it'll be the whole group of guys, staging an intervention of some kind.

As long as it's not Coach, here to take another swing at me.

"Expecting someone?" Callie asks.

My sisters pull away, Grey patting me on the head like a dog.

"Nope." Standing, I rub my hands down my thighs before walking to the door, trailed by my sisters.

When I open the door, it's not the guys.

"Hey," Amelia says, giving an awkward wave.

She's standing on my front porch surrounded by multiple bags and a rolling suitcase so full it looks ready to explode.

"Hey?" I try to keep my voice steady, not betraying the wild way my heart is beating in my chest. I don't want to allow myself any kind of hope. Especially not when I'm still hurt. And angry.

But Amelia looks shy and more than a little unsure.

She clears her throat and drops her gaze to her feet. "Things aren't great with my dad right now, as I'm sure you can imagine and … I hoped maybe I could crash on your couch?"