She nods. “And every day at dinner time, I’d bring homemade chicken noodle soup up to your bedroom.”

I still remember that soup. It was so good. I began to look forward to it every day. Even on the days I had no appetite, that soup warmed me up and made me smile. “I remember that. I loved it.”

My mother pulls back to find my eyes, a knowing smile stretching across her pretty face. She leans in to kiss my hairline, then whispers, “That soup was from Dean.”

My chest tightens, the air escaping me with a sharp gasp. “What?”

“He would come over every day after school to study with Mandy, and he’d bring you soup. He never made a big deal about it—he acted like it was nothing.” She squeezes my arm, noticing my watery, wide-eyed stare. “He’s always cared about you, Cora.”

My mind is spinning and reeling, careening back in time to our early days of teasing and loathing. The only things that stand out during my high school years with Dean are elaborate pranks, like when Dean stole the tarantula from the science lab and hid it in my gym shoe.

That was on my first day.

That was after sharing a sweet look with him across the room in Mr. Adilman’s class, thinking maybe he would become my friend.

Nope. Cue the hairy spider in my shoe that traumatized me so hard, I spent half the day in the nurse’s office recovering.

There were no heroic gestures or kind words.

There was no soup.

I slick my tongue along my dry lips, feeling confused. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

My mother glances up, leaning back onto the pillow with a sigh. “I’m not sure.” She turns her head to look at me and I’m still staring. Processing. “But I started noticing things after that. Little things. Just the way he’d look at you sometimes—his eyes held such… I don’t know. Admiration. Endearment. I don’t think he even realized it. Neither of you did.”

“You think… you think we’ve always had feelings for each other?”

No. That can’t be true. I hated him, and he hated me.

“Subconsciously, I think there has always been a special connection between you two,” she says with a thoughtful expression. “I never questioned his loyalty to Mandy—I know they cared about each other very much. But as the years went on, I noticed the differences between them. They grew into different people who were not as well-suited as they were in the beginning. Of course, I never expected anything like this, but… I can’t say I’m entirely surprised by the outcome.”

I blink, my stomach in ropes. “You don’t hate him?”

My mother tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I don’t hate him, honey. Dean has always been like a son to me, and your father and I both know none of this was intentional. This wasn’t a nefarious plot to hurt your sister. It’s been a horrible situation for everyone, and we knew there would be tough roads ahead with even tougher choices. Your sister and I have had plenty of long talks, and it’s going to take time, but I’m confident you will all find your way.” She kisses my forehead. “We hurt for Mandy. We hurt for you. We hurt for Dean.”