“That she’s able to find happiness?” I questioned softly.

He exhaled harshly, his head falling back to gaze up at the moon glowing over the glass roof. “While my heart aches each and every day for Ellie and her situation, sometimes there are days where it aches more for Lucy.”

I stared curiously at him. “Why is that?”

“One day when Lucy is older, she’ll be cognitive enough to realize that there is something different about her. While I know that Bray and Lily will never do anything to cause it, Lucy will compare herself to Jude and to Melody. Most likely, she’ll feel anger and sadness that she isn’t the same as them.” Rhys glanced over at me. “Ellie never has to do that. She never has to compare herself to me or feel what it’s like to not live up to our parents’ expectations. She’s thankfully oblivious to all of that.”

I slowly processed the truth in his words. My chest tightened at the feeling of sweet Lucy ever having to feel bad about herself. Eyeing my painted toenails in the water, I tried to tune out the voice in my head—the one that was nagging me to question Rhys. But then I realized that I had to ask or else I would never be able to look at him the same way. “Rhys?”

“Hmm?” he replied, staring out at the water.

“You’ve never brought Ellie around the guys much, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

Gnawing on my lip, I finally dared to ask the question that was haunting me. “Is it because you’re ashamed of her?”

Rhys jerked his gaze from the water to meet mine. His dark eyes bulged. “How dare you ask me that?”

“It’s an honest question. I’ve only heard you speak of her a few times before tonight. You never mention your family when you’re with the guys.”

Scowling, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You should know by now that I’m a very private person.”

“Private or emotionally shut off?”

Flinching prematurely, I prepared myself for him to yell at me, but he surprised me by murmuring, “A little of both.”

“You don’t have to be that way with me. I want you to be able to trust me, Rhys.”

“I do trust you. If I didn’t, I would have never let you meet Ellie.” Rhys exhaled an anguished breath. “The truth is I could never be ashamed or embarrassed by Ellie. The reason I don’t speak of her or bring her around is I’m more afraid of my reactions to the way others treat her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t respect anyone who finds fault with Ellie. Since I was a kid, I’ve been defending her. When I was in the fifth grade, I got expelled from a private school because I hit a kid with a golf club after he was telling people my sister was a freaky retard.”

“Oh Rhys,” I murmured.

He angrily shook his head. “I’ve ended many friendships, and even a few relationships, with people who expressed disdain and somewhat repulsion being in her presence.”

“That’s terrible.”

“She deserves respect just like anybody else, so why should I give my time to those who have no respect for my blood?” Rhys bellowed.

“No, I mean, it’s terrible that anyone would have disdain or repulsion for Ellie,” I said, softly.

Rhys’s expression softened. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.”

“Stop beating yourself up.” When he still appeared unconvinced, I said, “It shows a great depth of character that you care so much about your sister. She’s so very lucky that she has you in her life.”

“I guess I’m really a bastard for not talking about her, huh?” he questioned. From the look in his eyes, I could tell it was something that really worried him.

“No, I can totally understand your reasons. But at the same time, you’re protecting yourself more than you are her. Your motives are better than your parents’, but at the same time, you’re still hiding her away.”

“The more people who know about her, the more ridicule she is going to have,” Rhys protested.

“Yes, but at the same time, think of all the good you could do for autistic people if you were to come out and talk about Ellie—if you lent your name to fundraisers and charities. Your celebrity might even change the way some people treat autistic people.”

Rhys weighed my words for a few moments. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.” Tears sparkled in his eyes. “Makes me feel like a stupid, selfish prick.”

I shook my head. “Sometimes you’re just too close to a situation to truly see things the way they should be.”

“How could I screw her over like that?”

“Don’t you dare say that! You could never, ever do anything to hurt Ellie.” Reaching over, I cupped his cheek with my hand. “I’m not going to let you sit here and beat yourself up, okay?”

With a weary smile, he replied, “Okay.”

“You’ve got one of the biggest hearts I know, Rhys. There isn’t a malicious bone in your body. You would walk barefoot through a field of glass to make sure Ellie was happy.”

“I suppose.”

When he stared mournfully out at the water, I clapped my hands together. “You, sir, are in desperate need of a drink.” Holding my dress in place with one hand, I rose to my feet. “Come on. Let’s be cliché and drink away our troubles.”

Rhys stared up at me for a moment before a grin spread across his face. “You’re so f**king right. If there was ever a night to get plastered, it’s tonight.”

While I boosted myself onto one of the stools, Rhys walked around the side of the bar. “What sounds good?” I asked.

“I think the better question is, what is going to get us shitfaced the fastest?”

I giggled. “And if you get shitfaced, how will I get home?”

Rhys shrugged. “Guess you’ll just have to stay here.”

His reply caused me to gasp. “H-Here?” I stammered.

“Besides the f**king monstrosity main house, I’m pretty sure there’s room in the carriage house for you.”

“Oh,” I murmured, trying not to hide my disappointment.

As Rhys plopped a bottle of tequila down on the bar, he winked. “Of course, my bed is pretty big, and I wouldn’t mind sharing it.”