Connor was the one who spoke.
He didn’t recognize Gwyneth, but just now, the way she greeted him—so warm, so delighted, so familiar—sent an unexpected wave of comfort through him.
Marcus treated him well, of course, but no matter how much affection there was between men, it always seemed to be separated by an invisible door you could never quite open. It never reached that cold, dark corner deep inside him.
“I don’t remember you,” Connor admitted, “but Uncle calls you my sister, so that makes you my sister.”
He pulled a pale green pendant from around his neck and, a bit awkwardly, pressed it into Gwyneth’s hand.
“A little gift for meeting you. Don’t turn your nose up at it.”
Gwyneth startled, refusing to take it. “Max, your parents left this for you. You’ve always worn it. I can’t accept it.”
Connor frowned, glancing at Marcus when he heard her words. Marcus’s gaze was unreadable, and only then did Gwyneth realize she might have said the wrong thing.
“Gwyn’s right. Your parents left this for you. I should have told you—that’s on me,” Marcus said quietly.
Connor snatched the pendant back from Gwyneth and made to toss it out the window. Quick as lightning, she caught his hand. “Max—!”
“You’re right. You can’t take it. But the thing is, I don’t want it either.”
A pang of sadness struck Gwyneth. Mr. Green just wanted Max not to grieve his parents’ deaths, but wasn’t it even crueler to let him think they’d abandoned him?
Marcus shot Connor a cold look. “You haven’t changed a bit after all these years. Don’t think Gwyn won’t laugh at you.”
“Max—” Gwyneth tried again, but Connor cut her off.
“Alright, we’ve met. You guys catch up. I’m leaving.”
From that moment, Connor abandoned the necklace and never wore it again.
Gwyneth handed the pendant back to Marcus. “Mr. Green.”
Marcus tucked the chain away. “I know what you want to say, but it’s too late for explanations. There’s no point trying to dredge up memories he’s lost.”
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