I made the call, agreeing with Patrick I’d take two days off, and when he asked me about Lily I said, “I don’t know what to say about her.” Dropping my voice to a whisper I added, “But I don’t think it’s going to work out between her and Ash. It’s such a shame.”

Next, I went to the laundry room and fished Lily’s favorite sweater out of the hamper, where I’d hidden it earlier that morning. “Ash,” I said, walking into the kitchen. “This is Lily’s. I’m going to drop it off.”

“I’ll go,” he said.

“You could do without seeing each other right now. I’ll hand it in at the front desk.”

He didn’t argue, which I took as another victory. The damage was done. Hiding the cash, jewelry and pills hadn’t just put a dent in their relationship, I’d taken a sledgehammer to it. A couple could never recover from this kind of destruction. I walked over, and put my arms around him, hugging him hard. I’d hated giving him the Benadryl in his beer that night, even though he hadn’t drunk it, and slipping him the benzos this last week had been torture, but it had been the only way.

“I’m sorry. I know you were hoping things would work out for you both,” I said.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “Looks like it’s you and me against the world again.”

As I went to kiss him on the cheek, he turned his head at the same time, and when my lips brushed against his neither of us moved. Everything seemed to stand still.

I’d waited for another moment like this for so long. Years and years of pretending and patience, buried yearning, love and desire—all of it building and building from the first time I’d set eyes on Ash. I’d had to endure watching him with other girls. Tried to hide my shame of wanting a boy who was my stepbrother. I’d put up with the taunts and gibes and chants when word had got out at school. Believed it wasn’t right, it wasn’t normal, I was sick in the head.