“It’s not my story to tell,” I began. “But West has fallen out with the others. Like, properly fallen out with them. He-he was really upset and he wanted to get away and I didn’t know what to do,” I finished in a rush.
My mum’s expression morphed into one of concern. “Oh no. I’ll call Arlo?” She phrased it like a question, and I shook my head.
“No. Um. Arlo’s involved in it, kind of, so I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Right. In that case, let’s get some breakfast ready. I take it Weston had been drinking last night?” She knew about the party. Lucky for me, she was pretty chill about everything. Both my parents were, in general.
“Yes. I didn’t drink, though. Also, nothing happened with…” I trailed off, my cheeks heating, making my mum laugh.
“Oh, Lena. I know. You were both fully clothed on top of the bed.” Strolling off down the hallway, she tossed over her shoulder, “He’d make a wonderful son-in-law, by the way.”
“Mum, please.” I groaned.
“Just saying.” She smiled innocently as I caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs that led to the upper floor, and I rolled my eyes, choosing not to respond. I needed to end this conversation. Now.
“Give me ten mins? I want to have a shower and change.” Without waiting for an answer, I began backing away from her, heading in the direction of my bedroom. She smirked at me, before making her way up the stairs.
“What do you think your boyfriend would like for breakfast?” she asked from the open fridge as I rejoined her in the kitchen after my shower. We normally had staff who prepared food, but at the weekends my parents liked to do their own thing.
“Mum!”
“Okay, okay. I won’t say another word.” She mimed zipping her lips shut, causing me to roll my eyes yet again.
“Let’s do a fry-up,” I decided. “Do we have all the stuff?”
“Avocado on toast? With poached eggs?” she countered.
“If you want to make that, why are you asking me?”
“I’m only teasing you. I know Weston would rather have a fried breakfast.” Pulling a carton of eggs out of the fridge, she smiled at me. “I’ll do the eggs, you do the mushrooms.”
We worked in silence, preparing the food. My dad wandered in when it was almost ready. “Mmm, something smells good.” He placed a kiss on the top of my mum’s head, before heading over to me and doing the same. “Four plates?”
“Yes. West’s here.”
He raised a brow at me. “Without Cassius?”
I nodded. “Yeah. They’ve had a falling-out, so please be nice.”
Tutting, he began setting out the pile of plates around the table. “Me? I’m always nice.”
“Hmmm. Just…be tactful, okay?”
“I am the epitome of discretion, I’ll have you know.” He waltzed off to the coffee machine and turned it on.
“Okay, but please don’t mention Cass to him. Or Zayde. Or Caiden. Oh, Winter, too.”
He laughed, clearly not taking me seriously enough. “Anyone else?”
“His dad. Actually, it might be better if you just don’t talk at all.”
“Sure. Would you like—” His sarcastic words came to an abrupt halt as Weston came in, barefoot and rubbing his eyes. All tousled hair and sleepy, in his faded jeans and grey T-shirt, he looked gorgeous. Then, I took in the sadness in his eyes, and my mouth turned down.
My mum, intuitive as ever, took the initiative. “Morning, West. Take a seat at the table. Breakfast is ready.”
He slid into a seat, and I took the one across from him. We were mostly silent as we all ate, my dad trying to lighten the mood by drawing Weston into a conversation about cars. Weston replied in monosyllables, and I spent the entire time pushing my food around my plate, my appetite gone as the guilt gnawed at my insides.
I thought I’d been doing the right thing. But I hadn’t. I’d hurt the boy I loved irreparably.
And if he found out the part I’d played, he might never forgive me.
ELEVEN
My entire world had gone dark.
Cade, Cass, and my dad were blowing up my phone, but I ignored their calls and messages. My initial anger had turned to numbness, but every now and then, the stabbing pain would rage through me. Losing my mum when I was only thirteen had left a huge hole in my life, and the thought that my family and closest friends had been keeping a secret from me had really fucking hurt.
The day passed in a blur, Lena a constant presence yet giving me my own space. After she’d dragged me into the media room, that was. I zoned out, watching mindless action movies while she curled up in a chair off to the side of the room, working on her laptop. I couldn’t even remember what I ate; everything was bland and tasteless.
That night, sleep finally pulled me under sometime around 4:00 a.m., and I woke late in the morning, with the sun high in the sky.
I knew where I wanted to go.
Palming my keys in my hand, I pushed down on the latch of the wrought iron gate that led into the small hilltop cemetery. I made my way up the familiar winding path and picked my way across to the black marble headstone that marked my mum’s resting place.
Joanne Cavendish. Beloved wife and mother.
Suicide. Could I have seen the warning signs? Was there anything else I could have done?
Sinking to the ground, I leaned my head against the cool marble. “I’m sorry, Mum. Sorry I failed you. I wish I’d known. I wish…I wish things could have been different. I wish I could’ve helped you.”
By the time I’d finished speaking, my throat was raw and my eyes were stinging, swollen from the tears I’d finally given in to.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a text to the one person that I knew would be there for me, the person who understood my situation and hadn’t let me down.
Me: I need you to make me forget.
When the reply came, the relief was instant.
Come to me.
The Drummond home was silent as I entered the foyer, using the key Lena had given me. I headed into the huge open lounge area, and there she was. Silhouetted against a wall of glass, the sun setting over the sea behind her, she looked…
She’d dressed down in loose black cotton trousers and a black vest top, and her ever-permanent black eye makeup was absent. As I approached her, she held up a bag, the sound of bottles clinking inside. She eyed me cautiously for a moment, before dropping her gaze, licking her lips.
Nervous. Lena was nervous?
“Want to get drunk and high?”
All I could do was nod. Although she wasn’t looking at me, she turned on her heel and headed for the doors that led out to one of the outside areas. All white stone, looking out over the sea, there was a firepit and a covered area with huge outdoor cube-shaped sofas, big enough to lie on.
She paused in the doorway. “Wait. I got your stuff. It’s in the guest room.”
“Thanks.” I’d asked her if she could persuade Cassius to bring me some of my clothes while I was at the cemetery. “I’ll grab a shower and change, then meet you out here?”