HEALING THE SCARS

CHAPTER 49

PENELOPE

The next day starts off surprisingly peaceful. Jason and Andrew are ready for school on time, and there's a calmness in Andrew that I haven't seen in a while. After dropping them off, I return home, and as I sit at my desk, the screen of my laptop reflects the worry lines on my forehead. I spend the morning researching private schools, hoping to find a place that might be a better fit for them, a place where Andrew can find some peace.

Later, after picking them up from school, I prepare for my dinner date. I can't help but feel a sense of anxiety gnawing at me. Before leaving, I pause outside Andrew's room, hesitating before knocking gently on the door. I need to check on him, but I'm not sure what to expect after last night.

"Can I come in?" I ask softly as I push the door open. Andrew is sitting on his bed, his hands working meticulously to piece together the shattered fragments of his laptop.

"You know that's beyond repair, right?" I try to keep my voice light, hiding the concern in my chest. "I'll get you a new one."

"Don't bother," he replies, his tone clipped. "Dylan already bought me a new one today. It was delivered an hour ago."

His words hit me like a cold splash of water. "What? How did that happen?"

"He called me last night, and we talked. Apparently, you told him I was lashing out. I wasn't. But I mentioned my broken laptop and table, and he ordered replacements. They're here now," he explains with a shrug, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

A knot forms in my chest, tightening with each passing second. "You have to return them, Andrew. You will not accept anything from Dylan again. Do you hear me?"

Andrew looks at me, his eyes narrowing, a flicker of defiance in his gaze. "Dylan gets me, Penelope. He's the only one who does."

A wave of frustration washes over me, but beneath it is a pang of hurt. "I'm your sister, Andrew. I get you more than anyone else ever could. Dylan doesn't just waltz back into your life and suddenly understand everything about you."

Andrew's eyes darken, and his voice drops to a whisper, heavy with accusation. "Dylan is a great guy. He doesn't deserve you. I know you're cheating on him, going on dates with whoever brought you home yesterday. And now, you're all dressed up again. Doesn't that make you a slut? It's disgusting."

His words cut deep, sharper than I could have imagined. Before I can stop myself, my hand lashes out, the slap ringing through the room. The moment it happens, regret floods my senses, and my heart twists in pain.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that, Andrew," I say, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and guilt. "I'm not cheating on anyone. Dylan and I are not together, okay? I'm allowed to live my life."

Andrew stares at me, shock and hurt flickering in his eyes before he turns away, retreating into himself. I leave his room, my heart heavy with the weight of our fractured relationship.

When Eric picks me up at around 4 p.m., I'm still shaken from my encounter with Andrew. Eric is kind, taking me to a nice restaurant in Manhattan. The food is delicious, the atmosphere perfect, but I can't shake the unease gnawing at my mind. We talk about everything and nothing, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Andrew, to Dylan, to the unresolved mess of emotions swirling inside me.

After dinner, Eric drives me back home, and this time I have him drop me off at the gate. We stand outside his car, the cool night air brushing against my skin, bringing a sense of reality to the surreal evening.

"I could walk you to your door," he offers, his voice gentle and full of concern.

I shake my head, offering him a small, grateful smile. "Maybe next time. There's just... a lot going on right now."