Page 121 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

The question hit her with the unerring quality of an arrow getting to the heart of its target.

There was a difference. One she had never even pulled apart before.

Roses were lovely, but they did not hold you. They didn’t help clean or deal with paperwork. They didn’t tell you what to do next. They were not company.

She shook her head. “No. Nobody was close enough to her to do that. Not anymore. After she had me, I think she sort of receded from her life. I don’t know if she was embarrassed because of my father or... I don’t know. And I can’t ask her now. This is the worst part about losing somebody. You get older, and you gain perspective, and there are so many questions that you wish you would’ve asked. So many ways that you wish you could have known them. I feel devastated by the fact that I will never truly know her. It’s the grief that keeps on giving.”

“I can understand that. I will never understand what drove my sister to her addiction. Not really. Not the way that I want to. I will never be able to share my experiences of my father with her. She was the only other person to have him as a father. To understand. And I wish... I wish she was here now. Because I would be different with her. Because I know myself, and my father in a way that might allow me to know her.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I think it’s cruel. To be robbed of a relationship like that.”

“I took it for myself.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. It was my words. My actions. I just wish that there was another chance. A chance to atone and have it really mean something, rather than just being... A dark, futile thing, that feels like a necessity. It feels like the only way that I deserve to go on breathing.”

“Maybe she would want more for you than that. More for you than breathing. Because the really sad thing is... Your sister can’t know you better either. If she were here, you can’t simply think about how you would be different. But about how she would be different, too. So maybe the version of her that you knew... Who was perhaps very poorly, maybe she couldn’t have wanted more or better. But you don’t know the woman that she would’ve become. If she would’ve been more patient with herself. If she would have given all of it just a little bit more time.”

“I thought that I was here to rest. Not engage with all my old ghosts.”

“Well. I guess so. But you and I just have so many.”

He shifted, and along with his body’s movements, she felt something change in the air. “What are you wearing?”

He was done with ghosts, then.

Immediately, heat flooded her cheeks. “What do you mean? What am I wearing?”

“I’m curious. The last time I saw you, you were wearing that orange dress. The one I had taken off of you the night before.”

“Are you back to playing a role?”

“No, but does that surprise you that I would rather think about you, and the encounter that we shared, rather than the death of my sister?”

“Just tell me. Really. Are you doing this because it makes you comfortable, or are you asking because you... Because you want me?”

“I want you.”

She swallowed hard. Her heart was thundering. And she considered. Considered what this meant for her. Considered if this meant that she should indulge him or not. Because they were here alone. For all this time. He couldn’t see. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t...

“I’m wearing a white dress. And I will say that it is somewhat see-through. It comes up above my knees. And it has a scooped neckline. It is not modest. You can see the... The curves of my breasts.” The words came out in a hushed whisper.

“Good,” he said.

“You should eat your sandwich.”

“What are you wearing underneath it.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, and rather than question the wisdom of any of this, she indulged him. She indulged herself.

“A white lace bra. You can see through it. You can see my nipples. And... The panties match. You know... What that probably looks like.”

He growled. “I do.”

“And now you should eat.”

“What if I find it’s not food that I’m hungry for.”