When We're Thirty Casey Dembowski (the chimp paradox .TXT) 📖

saying anything to Hannah about us.” His voice stuck on every part of that sentence. He hadn’t thanked Madison for anything—not even passing the creamer at brunch—since everything happened. It had been a small act of defiance that made him feel the teensiest bit better, petty as it might have been.

“Of course. Though I don’t know how long you can get away with keeping that secret.” She paused, studying him. “You are planning on telling her, right?”

He had planned on telling her on the drive up, once they’d arrived, or any time in the last two weeks. But when was the appropriate time to tell his wife her sister-in-law was also her bajingo sister, a homewrecker, and the person who had utterly destroyed his life? He couldn’t bear the look that would cross her face the moment the truth came out—not from Hannah. She was the only important person in his life who didn’t pity him like that, who still believed only great things for him.

“Hannah likes you,” he said. “She’s excited to have another woman to help her, and I quote, ‘navigate the intricacies of the Thorne boys.’”

“That’s not—”

“Come on, Madison. What if the situation was reversed?” He met her eyes, which were locked on him. It had been so long since he’d really looked at her, but they were the same eyes— still adorably wide and mesmerizing green.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d hate me.”

He looked away, his stomach roiling. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him—agreeing with Madison, keeping secrets. All that lying was what had gotten him here. Hannah deserved the truth. “I’m going to tell her.”

Without him realizing it, Madison had crossed the room. She stood inches from him. “I won’t say anything, William. Not unless she says something first.”

“Why?” He wouldn’t have questioned anyone else, but meddling was one of Madison’s specialties, and the sanctity of commitments was not high on her priority list. She had barely shown any remorse for her actions both to and with Will. Her hand had slipped from one Thorne to the next, and that was that. Except in the middle of the night when she had clearly missed the younger model.

“Whatever you may think, I do care about you.” Will braced for Madison’s touch, but her  hand didn’t move from the arm of the chair. “And if Hannah makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

He almost believed her. But Madison was ever the actress. The glint in her eye hinted at ulterior motives. He could guess at them, but he couldn’t go down that road anymore. It only led to more despair and lies and messiness. He would warn Hannah about Madison. It had only been a day. It wasn’t like the two women were exchanging friendship bracelets.

“Do you think...” she said, hedging. Madison never hedged. “Do you think your mother would’ve hated me?”

Had they been in any other room, it would’ve been as far out in left field as you could get. But she knew why his wanderings always brought him there. Madison knew everything.

“I don’t know,” he said after several seconds of silence. The question had crossed his mind, but he’d never come up with a sound answer. Hating Madison betrayed Jon—loving her hurt Will. It was a lose-lose situation. He was glad Mom wasn’t here to decide between her sons.

“Do you hate me?”

Will crossed the room to the picture window and stared into the darkness. “Let’s not do this, Madison.”

“So, you do hate me,” she said, and he swore there was melancholy in her voice, a quiver to the statement that didn’t fit.

“No good would come from my answering that question,” he said, trying to be diplomatic. What answer could she have possibly expected? Of course he hated her. He hated her in the way he could only despise someone he had loved—deeply, completely, and sometimes not at all. “You’re about to be my sister-in-law, so whether I hate you or not is irrelevant.”

“It’s not irrelevant to me.”

He turned to face her, relieved to find her standing by the doorway. Madison might be a meddler, but she also knew when to fold. “I hated you a little less today.”

WILL DIDN’T KNOW HE could have an emotional hangover, but after only a day and a half in the Hamptons, his head felt like it was in a vise grip, and he was literally itchy. He’d woken up to an empty bed and a note that Hannah had gone to find sustenance. She wasn’t in the kitchen, though according to Renata, she’d been there earlier. Will sat down by himself in the dining room with a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, and two full English muffins slathered with orange marmalade. He shot Hannah a quick text before diving in. He didn’t often get to claim this table as his own. It was rejuvenating. Bit by bit, he was taking back what Jon and Madison had stolen.

As the first sips of coffee hit his system, his head started to clear. He tried to cast off the memory that had been haunting him since his late-night conversation with Madison. Memorial Day Weekend, during the first big party of the summer, he’d found Madison and Jon locked in an embrace deep within Renata’s kitchen, the sounds of the party muffled by all the stainless steel. Jon’s pants hung low on him, and Madison’s dress was scrunched up over her hips. Will had dropped the bottle of wine he’d retrieved, shattering—

“Morning, little brother,” Jon said, sitting down across from Will.

Will blinked twice, snapping out of it. He should’ve known better. There was no being alone at the Thorne mansion, and even when he was alone, the weight of expectation was a constant companion. And Jon had built-in Will radar. If Will wasn’t hiding out in his room—as far away from his family as he could get—Jon found him. Will knew what his brother was trying to do. He also knew it would never work. There was no going back if he