Chapter 30

30

NINA

Cocooned in the supportive love of my roommates, I’m sprawled on our couch in my most worn comfort clothes, clutching a spoonful of Chunky Monkey as Ginnifer Goodwin laments her latest heartbreak on TV— He’s Just Not That Into You seemed like an appropriate movie to watch for the current situation.

Hunter and Rowena both cut their holidays short to be with me once I told them what had gone down with Tristan. Now Hunter lounges next to me, the carton of ice cream balanced on her lap while Rowena sits cross-legged on the floor, shoveling spoonfuls into her mouth from her own tub of New York Super Fudge Chunk.

“Men are pigs,” Hunter declares, waving her spoon for emphasis. “Every last one of them.”

“Amen,” Rowena mumbles, licking a drop of chocolate ice cream from the corner of her mouth. “I don’t know why we even bother.”

I sink further into the cushions and glower at the screen. “Because we’re idiots. Gluttons for punishment.”

My mind flashes back to Tristan’s cruel words, the way his eyes had turned as hard as the core of an iceberg while he sneered and called me a mistake. My chest constricts and I cram another spoonful into my mouth, welcoming the brain freeze.

Hunter rubs my shoulder. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. What Tristan did was unforgivable.”

Rowena nods sagely. “He doesn’t deserve you, Neens. You’re gorgeous, brilliant, and way too good for the likes of him.”

I snort humorlessly. “Try telling that to my shattered heart.” I gesture at the screen. “This is my future—sad and alone, rehashing my failed romances over pints of ice cream.”

“Oh, please,” Hunter scoffs. “You’ll bounce back in no time. Tristan Montgomery can go to hell and take a hike with all his minions.”

Just then, my phone buzzes with an incoming text. I grab it from the coffee table, my brow furrowing as I read the message from Mom.

“What is it?” Rowena asks, tilting her head.

“It’s my mom,” I drone out. “She says Dylan is headed home and that he shouldn’t be standing in my way anymore. Whatever that means.”

Hunter’s eyes widen. “You don’t think…”

“That he’s finally butting out of my love life?” I finish bitterly. “Fat chance.”

Rowena sets down her spoon. “But maybe she meant that he’s accepted that Tristan is into you. That he’ll back off and let you two figure things out.”

I bark out a harsh laugh. “It doesn’t matter. Even if Dylan has gotten over his childish hang-ups, it doesn’t change what Tristan did. How he humiliated me and broke my heart.” I blink back the sudden sting of tears. “No, it’s over. For good.”

My roommates exchange a meaningful glance but stay silent. On screen, Drew Barrymore is about to ugly cry at her desk after being duped by yet another serial jerk. I know exactly how she feels. I’m not even sure how I’m going to show up for work on Monday.

I eat more ice cream and sulk.

A while later, right as Jennifer Connelly is about to dump her cheating husband’s ass, the doorbell chimes, jolting me from my melancholic stupor. Ah, dinner’s here. We ordered three maxi pizzas with every topping to compensate for the Ben & Jerry sugar overload. I heave myself off the couch, expecting to find our usual delivery guy waiting on the doorstep. Instead, I’m greeted by a sight that steals the air from my lungs.

Tristan Montgomery stands before me, looking more disheveled than I’ve ever seen him. His normally impeccable hair is a tousled mess, his jawline peppered with stubble and a purplish bruise on the left side. But it’s his eyes that truly give me pause—bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. They bore into mine with an intensity that makes my throat dry up.

Shock quickly gives way to anger, and I slam the door in his face without a word. How dare he show up here, after everything he’s put me through? The nerve of this man!

The doorbell rings again, followed by a series of sharp knocks. “Nina, please,” Tristan calls out, his voice muffled through the wood. “Can we talk?”

“No,” I shout back. “Go away.”

“I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”

I stand rooted on the spot, my hands cold. Behind me, Hunter and Rowena watch the scene unfold with wide eyes, spoons frozen halfway to their mouths.

The pounding continues, growing louder and more insistent. “Nina, I mean it. I’ll stay out here all night if I have to.”

Just as I’m contemplating how much I’m going to enjoy hearing him grovel for hours—he can be stubborn, but I can be downright unreasonable—a neighbor’s voice filters through the wall. “Hey, keep it down out there! Some of us are trying to chill!”

Cursing under my breath, I yank open the door and fix Tristan with my most withering glare. “What do you want?” I hiss, crossing my arms over my chest.

His gaze flicks past me to my roommates, who are now standing at attention in the living room. “Can we talk in private?” he asks, the question quiet but urgent.

I scoff, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of them.”

Tristan’s jaw clenches as he takes in Hunter and Rowena’s hostile expressions. For a moment, I think he might turn tail and run. But then his shoulders square, and he meets my gaze head-on, determination etched into every line of his handsome face.

“Fine, I can deal with an angry woman or three.” He steps forward into the apartment.

My entire body tightens as he brushes past me, his familiar scent enveloping me like a cloud. I close the door behind him with a shaky hand, steeling myself for whatever bombshell he’s about to drop. No matter what he says, I’ll just have to fend off his pathetic excuses and stay strong.

“I’m sorry I left,” Tristan starts, his voice raw with emotion in a way that makes my task of resisting him at all costs already a thousand times more difficult.

But I gather my resolve, determined not to let him off the hook so easily. “Why? Why wait until now to tell me?”

And then it hits me. My mom’s text. Dylan coming home. The timing of Tristan’s sudden appearance. I narrow my eyes at him accusingly. “Oh, because my idiot brother has given you permission, so now what? You want to toy with me some more?”

Tristan’s face contorts in frustration. He rakes a hand through his disheveled hair, making it stand on end. “I never wanted to toy with you, Nina!” he shouts, exasperated. “I’m here because I’m stupidly, madly in love with you!”

The words hang in the air between us, so tangible I could almost reach out and grab them. My heart sputters to a stop, then kicks into overdrive. I’m vaguely aware of Hunter letting out a startled gasp behind me, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Tristan’s face.

He loves me. Tristan Montgomery, the man I’ve been fighting my feelings for since I was thirteen, just admitted he’s in love with me.

I want to believe him. Gosh, I want to throw myself into his arms and never let go. But the cynical part of me, the part that’s been hurt too many times by him before, holds me back.

“Until Dylan changes his mind again and tells you otherwise,” I retort, my voice trembling slightly.

Tristan takes a step forward, closing part of the distance between us—at least the physical one. His hand twitches at his side as if he was aching to reach out and touch me. “Leave Dylan out of this,” he says firmly. “I’m talking about us now.”

I let out a disbelieving scoff. “Hard to leave my brother out when you picked him over me.” The unspoken question burns in my throat. Why? Why did he choose Dylan? Why wasn’t I enough?

But I don’t dare voice them aloud. I’m terrified of the answers he might give. That his bond with Dylan will always come first, and I’ll forever be on the outside looking in.

Tristan’s piercing blue eyes drill into me, seeming to see straight through my defenses. To understand what I’m not asking, but need to hear all the same. He draws in a shaking breath. “Dylan is my family,” he begins, voice even more rugged.

“Yes, you said.” Bitterness laces my reply as I hug myself tightly.

But Tristan presses on, laying his soul bare before me. “No, you don’t understand. I’d never had a family before I met him. I told you that my relationship with my parents is shaky, but I never told you that I practically felt like an orphan growing up. I was a boisterous child. My father was never home. My mother didn’t care to deal with me or my shenanigans.”

He looks away, jaw clenching. “I was raised by nannies first, then shipped off to boarding school when I was seven, left there for countless holidays when my parents didn’t bother to pick me up. There are more Christmases that I spent alone than ones I spent with them.” He loudly gasps for air before continuing. “The reason I came to your house for Christmas this year is not that my flight was canceled, it’s that they told me not to bother to go home because they wouldn’t be there. In a fucking text. My mom couldn’t even be bothered to give me a call to say they were ditching me yet again.”

My heart clenches painfully in my chest. I had no idea… All those times Dylan brought him home for long weekends or Thanksgiving, I never understood. I could’ve never imagined this. Even when he said his parents didn’t love him, I hadn’t imagined it was this bad.

Tristan meets my gaze again, eyes glistening. “No one has ever wanted me or made me feel like I had a home until I met your brother. We’ve lived together since freshman year, and that’s when I stopped feeling so fucking alone.”

His voice breaks and he swallows hard. “Dylan’s always been there for me, you know? He never left me. If my parents bailed on me, he was always there to pick up the pieces. He has never let me spend a holiday alone, even knowing he’d face your wrath for bringing me home.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. All the resentment I harbored… if only I had known the truth.

“He’s been my father, my mother, and my brother since I’ve met him,” Tristan finishes hoarsely.

A strangled sob echoes from behind me. Startled, I spin around to find Hunter standing there, openly bawling.

“I’m sorry,” she hiccups, wiping at her tears. “That is just so moving.”

Rowena sidles up to her, giving me an apologetic smile as she takes Hunter’s arm. “Excuse us, we’re going to leave you alone for the rest of your conversation. Please, carry on.”

They disappear down the hall, Hunter’s sniffles fading. And then it’s just me and Tristan, the air heavy with everything that’s been revealed.

As I hold his gaze, time slows, pulling us into a bubble. I’m the first to pierce the silence. “I had no idea,” I whisper. “About any of it.” I’m struggling because what he just said explains why he acted like he did, but also makes things worse in a way.

I brace myself for what I have to pry out of him. “Okay, you love Dylan, but if he’s your family, where does that leave me?” I ask, my lungs not fully expanding. “Are you always going to pick him over me?”

Tristan takes another step forward, his expression earnest. “Just try to understand me. He’s the only person who’s been there for me and I lied to him, went behind his back, betrayed him.”

Anger flares inside me. “Is loving me a betrayal?”

He clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. “The betrayal was not telling him. Not being honest with the one person who’s always been loyal to me. So, I panicked, and I left when he asked. I was mean to you. I made you hate me.” The memory of him calling me a gremlin stings like a fresh slap. I swallow my tears back. “But it was a mistake,” he adds softly.

“You said I was the mistake.” My voice cracks, the words barely escaping my constricted throat.

Tristan’s reaction shocks me. He brings the heel of his hand to his temple and legit starts to cry. Tristan Montgomery, the most unshakable person I know, is crying. In my living room.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice coarse like sandpaper grating straight against my heart. “I don’t know how to show up for people. I’m a mess and that’s why your brother didn’t want me to date you, and I only proved him right.”

He backs away. “I understand if you want nothing to do with me. If you can’t love me. I’m sorry.”

As he turns to leave, I’m seized by panic. I can’t watch him walk away again. “Tristan,” I call out.

He pauses, glancing back at me with so much vulnerability in his eyes that it takes my breath away. I go to him, cupping his face in my hands. His stubble prickles my palms, longer than I’ve ever seen it on his usually impeccable face.

I search the piercing blue of his irises, seeing all the rejection, the insecurity, and the heartbreak written in them. And suddenly, I know exactly what I need to do.