Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(127)

Luke was completely checked out after we got the news. I had hoped to talk to him because he’s the only person who can understand how I’m feeling right now, but his bedroom door was closed all night. However, I heard him on the phone for hours, talking about it to his new girlfriend, Sarah, who I haven’t met yet.

Then there’s my mom, who hasn’t seemed like herself since I came home for the summer. I thought it was strange until last night when I realized that my dad had probably been showing signs of being sick for weeks leading up to his diagnosis. She must have been so worried about him.

All I wanted to do was go to my parents for comfort, but how could I? My mom just found out that the love of her life is sick. And from the research I found, his treatment journey is going to take its toll on her too. She didn’t need me crying to her about it.

Then there’s my dad, who is probably the most scared of all. This is happening to him, after all.

The only other person I wanted to go to was Rio, but I couldn’t tell him. As soon as I say the words out loud, it’ll mean they’re real, but I’m not ready for them to be real yet.

So instead, I cried myself to sleep and have never felt more wrung out as I do this morning.

Which is why I thought that a coffee shop would be a good place for me to bring my laptop to apartment hunt. I was hopeful that the caffeine would help me focus, but I’ve been here for over an hour, my coffee is untouched and cold, and my internet search has nothing to do with Chicago and everything to do with a cancer research hospital I found in Minnesota.

I don’t understand how everyone around me in this coffee shop is having a normal fucking day while I’m sitting here more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life.

I need to tell Rio.

If I decide I’m not ready to go with him yet, he’ll understand. I know he will. I just don’t want to blindside him two weeks from now when we’re supposed to be loading up our cars and driving to Chicago together.

The mere thought of this conversation has my eyes burning with tears, but I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been crying a lot. It starts up again at the drop of a hat. So, before I end up breaking down in the middle of this coffee shop, I close my laptop and start the short walk home where I can do so in the privacy of my own room.

Or rather, his room.

Rio is at a training session but should be done soon. When I get back to our street, instead of going to my house, I go to his. I’ll wait for him in his room and tell him about my dad before I lose the nerve to do so.

His parents are both at work, so I find their hidden spare key under one of the planters and let myself inside.

Technically, I live in the house next door, but Rio’s feels equally like home. I’ve spent so much time here with him. I’ve enjoyed countless hours here in the kitchen with his mom. Our families have endlessly bounced between this house and mine for years now, so letting myself into their home isn’t strange in the slightest. Rio does the same with our place.

Leaving my laptop by the entryway, I head straight upstairs. His parents’ room is at the top of the landing, so when I pass their closed door, I take a right, down the hall to Rio’s bedroom.

His door is closed too, but when I reach to open it, another door opens instead.

Over my shoulder, I watch his parents’ bedroom slowly creak open, but the woman who exits isn’t Mrs. DeLuca.

“Mom?”

Adjusting her blouse, her eyes snap up to mine.

I’ve always been told I am the spitting image of her, and right now it feels like I’m looking in a mirror due to the complete and utter shock on her face that I know is reflected on my own.

She’s in her work clothes, though her heels are dangling in her hand. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is a touch tangled, and she’s frozen in place outside of her best friend’s bedroom.

“Hallie.” My name is hardly a ghost of a whisper past her lips. “What are you doing here?”

My eyes go wide. “What are you doing here?”

Because what the hell is going on?

My attention flicks to the open bedroom door, but she steps in front of it to block my view.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“What does it look like?” My heart is pounding. I can hear my pulse ringing in my ears. “What are you doing here?”

“Mia . . . needed . . .” She throws her thumb over her shoulder towards the room. “Mia needed me to grab her something.”

My gaze drops to her arms. She’s carrying nothing but her shoes.

“Mom?” My voice cracks, laced with a panic plea. “Please tell me what you’re doing here.”

“Steph,” Mr. DeLuca’s voice calls out from inside the room. “Did you want—”

His sentence cuts short when he steps behind my mom and spots me down the hall, standing in front of his son’s bedroom.

And just like that, everything I was hoping I’d falsely assumed is confirmed.

His shirt is untucked and partway unbuttoned. His belt is still unfastened.

“Hallie,” he breathes out, eyes impossibly wide.

I can’t speak. I can’t move. This can’t be fucking happening.

“Go back inside.” My mom puts a hand on his chest, urging him back. “I’ll handle this.”

“Steph.” His tone is desperate. His eye contact is pointed.