Sparkling Hope (The Eastburgh Devils Series Book 1)
Sparkling Hope: Chapter 24

I didn’t know how much longer we sat in this exact position on his sofa, but this hug was all I wanted.

As we sat there, my thoughts grew stronger if what we were doing here was right, and I became more unsure with every heartbeat I heard from Weston.

But aside from my family and Aria, I felt so understood by him. He listened to me, and he truly understood me. After all, he was also missing a parent.

His mother.

My mother once told me that Camilla told her that Weston’s mother, Alice, left town and the family from one day to the next. I would be lying if I wasn’t interested in knowing what was true and what wasn’t about that statement.

I didn’t know what possessed me to tell him all this, and after Aria, he was the first person I told why I was scared of deep water.

Why, among all the people in my life, Weston?

I wished I could ask my head, and more importantly, my heart, why I suddenly trusted Weston so much.

The more I thought about being in his room, on the sofa, in his arms, the more the situation felt weird.

‘Thanks for listening.’ I broke away from the embrace and wiped away the remaining wetness of tears under my eyes.

I stood up and walked towards the door of the room to get some distance between the two of us.

‘Good night, Luna.’

Trying to sleep now quickly failed as I kept reviewing the last hour I had spent with Weston.

Dad was initially taken into a small law firm, and after the big boss of the firm retired after years to make a wonderful life for himself in St. Tropez with his husband, the name Harrington and Co. became Montgomery and Co.

We were all sure that this career change as a lawyer would now be the final stop for Dad’s drinking.

Initially, that had been the case.

My Dad took me to swim practice, which I followed through with until my senior year.

He started attending my competitions, and on weekends we would go to the swim hall so he could give me tips.

He was never a swimmer. In his high school years, he played ice hockey. Dad was always ambitious but packed that ambition with so much love that it made fun.

My Dad was great.

My personal superhero.

Then he had this relapse, which I would think was his biggest alcohol relapse. Meanwhile, I wondered if he had any other relapses because Ethan and I last heard from him a year ago.

Dad never sought contact, either.

Even though I didn’t like to admit it, I’ve tried to reach Dad several times on an unknown phone number.

Not once did he answer.

I was hoping that he would answer the call at some point.

My father was one of those people who liked to answer anonymous calls and talk with some accent or fool around.

The only thing I heard was: ‘Sorry, this number is not in service.’

I don’t know if I would say something if he had answered the call, but I wanted to make sure he was okay.

My mother never planned to move with me to Eastburgh, New Jersey, but what kept her in Pennsylvania after I was also accepted to the same college as my brother?

Ethan graduated high school a year before me and was immediately accepted to Eastburgh Sports University. Mom and I often lied to Ethan, saying everything was fine with Dad or downplaying any situations because we were sure he would book a ticket and come to Pennsylvania on the next flight.

Mom told me after I was released from the hospital that Ethan and Dad had almost gotten into a fight in his hospital room.

But I don’t know how my Dad would have won against Ethan because he lay in bed with a broken leg, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, and alcohol poisoning.

Since then, Ethan had vowed never to contact him again, and I believed him.

I tried to think about all of that as little as possible, and when I did think about it, I usually covered it up with good memories.

While it was weird not hearing from Dad but sometimes I thought it was better that he didn’t take my calls and we had no contact with him.

The night was mixed.

After staring into the ceiling for what felt like an eternity and finally falling asleep, I woke up again and probably three times in total.

Twice I just stayed in bed and forced my body to fall back asleep, and the third time I got up and got a glass of water from the kitchen, where I ran into Weston on my way up the stairs.

That night felt like a battle against falling asleep, and that battle was finally over when the sun started shining through the curtains into my room.

Today, everything could be better.

I stayed in bed for a while, watching the milky, floor-length curtains move with the wind blowing through the open window.

Downstairs on the first floor, I heard noises, and since I lived here, I knew Weston didn’t leave his room until ten in the morning on a weekend day, so it could only be Camila, Mr. Sinclair, and Mom.

‘Good morning, Luni,’ my Mom greeted me as I descended the kitchen stairs. We hugged, and she kissed me on the forehead.

At that moment, Weston strutted down the stairs, topless and wearing only sweatpants, scratching his shoulder.

‘Oh, look at you. Up so early already. Are you okay, Weston?’ Camilla wanted to jokingly hold her hands against Weston’s forehead and pretend to take a fever.

‘Give it a rest,’ Weston grumbled in a sleepy voice and joined me behind the kitchen counter.

I stood on tiptoe in front of the shelf with the cups, and just as I was about to grab a cup, Weston stood next to me and grabbed the cup I was about to take.

‘Asshole,’ I hissed softly but loud enough for him to hear.

‘How was New York?’ he asked Camilla and Mom.

‘Exciting, Ruby met a man,’ Camilla reported, taking her huge sunglasses off the bridge of her nose and tucking them into her blonde bob. I turned on my heels with widened eyes at my Mom and looked at her in bewilderment.

‘That’s too much information for me in the morning,’ Weston spoke up, about to grab his cup of cocoa, but I took it from him before he could even reach for it.

Mom hadn’t even talked about being ready to meet someone again since we lived here, but eventually, it would have come to that anyway, and I was happy for her. It was quiet, and we were all waiting for my Mom to come out with information about the man she seemed to have met.

She was just as secretive and stubborn as Ethan.

‘Where’s Dad?’

‘Rick went straight on to Washington. He won’t be back for another week,’ Camilla replied.

‘Mhm.’

By now, it was nothing new to me that Mr. Sinclair was in a different city more often than he was at home, and I believed Weston didn’t know or mind any other way. Camilla and Weston started talking about something, and my Mom took the chance to retreat to her room.

She would not easily escape my curiosity, so I followed her into the room. I closed the door behind her room and sat down on her made bed. ‘Tell me everything, that doesn’t give me the creeps.’

‘What do you want me to tell you? There’s nothing.’

‘Stop being so closed off like Ethan.’

Mom opened her suitcase, which she lay on the bed beside me.

‘Well, his name is Richard, and he works as a hotel manager,’ she grinned, finally coming up with the information I wanted.

She told me they met while golfing, and he invited her for cocktails in the evening.

I mean, he looked lovely in the photo she showed me. That’s all I can say about a man who looked like he was weighing butter to see if it really was two hundred and fifty grams.

‘You don’t have a problem with that?’

‘Mom, as I said, take the chance and fly with her,’ I assured her that I had no problem with her flying with Camilla to Chicago to see a client.

She should take advantage of the opportunity, and she could work from her laptop anywhere, which was quite an advantage as a writer.

Besides, I thought Weston and I might get along a little better after this weekend, and if not, I’d go back to avoiding him.

‘You sure? Are you going to be okay? You look like you have something on your mind.’

I shook my head. ‘No, I’m fine.’

How was I supposed to explain that half of my brain was thinking about the conversation with Weston last night, and the other half was thinking about the kiss?

My head was full of this boy.

Which I’d like to put out of my mind because Weston was so burned into my head that I could charge him rent.