“Yeah, baby, but temporarily, while I try to sell my apartment.”
Faustina inhaled sharply and reached for Rain’s hand.
“So, what are you saying, Tristan?” Rain leaned in closer, scowling. “That your plan is to live here for a few months, sell your place, and then leave?”
Confused, Tristan didn’t know what he’d meant. What he wanted. It was true, he had talked about moving in with Rain, but he couldn’t do it like this. Couldn’t accept charity. He’d created his own mess, so why would Faustina have to pay for it?
“You know, Tristan,” Faustina said, quietly and without a trace of anger, “I’m not doing this for you. I like you and all, but I’m doing this for my kid brother. Because he deserves a break. For the last fourteen years, Rain has been caring for his son, never putting his own needs above those of Philip’s, to the point of staying in a broken marriage.” She took Rain’s hand and squeezed it. “And I think Philip and Rain are happy here. I want them to stay.”