In his memory, she had always been dependent on him. A tiny cut from cooking would have her eyes red and watery, clinging to him.
On the way down, the nurse had told him her wound had been stitched again: more than twenty stitches.
He’d expected her to cry the second she saw him. Instead, she wouldn’t even bother speaking.
For once, he lowered his head.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I thought you were faking it. If I’d known it was real, I wouldn’t have left.”
Bullshit.
He’d said the same thing countless times before.
And every single time, when forced to choose between her and Kinsey, Kenzie was the one left behind.
On their wedding day, when the crystal chandelier came crashing down, the person he shielded wasn’t his bride. It was Kinsey.
Once, when both “sisters” had severe allergic reactions and there was only one dose of medication left, he gave it to Kinsey without hesitation.
This time, Kenzie had been bleeding out on the concrete, and because it was Kinsey’s birthday, she’d been abandoned all over again.
From start to finish, Colton had never chosen her.
Whatever. A man who’d already made his choice wasn’t worth clinging to.