Sweet Little Lies

Chapter One Hundred and Twelve

"You were wrong, you know."

Harry's deep voice pulled Ivy from her thoughts. She propped her arm on his knee and settled deeply into his chest as the hot water rippled around their naked bodies. "Wrong when?"

"You said Cara never trusted you." He said, threading there fingers together against her soft stomach. "That's not true. She came to you when she needed you, trusted you with her mistakes."

"It was still too late." Ivy responded quietly.

Harry took a moment, thinking his words through carefully before continuing. "You aren't perfect, Ivy. You made mistakes when it came to Cara, but she did too. A relationship is built or broken by two. It's never one person's fault."

"I found her journals." Ivy told him.

"Yeah?"

She nodded, feeling his chin settles on the top of her head when she stilled. "At the old Manor. I went into her room and found them just sitting out on her bookshelf for anyone to read. She must have felt so certain that our father thought so little of her that he would never entertain the idea that she would figure him out."

"He underestimated her."

"I underestimated her." Ivy corrected him. "She was watching him. Ever since we were kids." A pause. "Our mother died from a car crash. That's what we were told. It's what I chose to believe, but Cara-" Ivy closed her eyes as the emotions were brought forth again. "Cara knew something was going on before she died. She thought he was going to kill her, and she was trying to gain the courage to come talk to us about it, but never did. Then, it was too late, but she didn't stop watching him. Harry, there was so much on him in those journals. She was even listening in on conversations and documenting them."

"She was?"

"Yes, she wanted to end him." Ivy let a single tear drop. "Maybe more than any of us."

"Then, you avenged her." Harry told her, turning her chin so she was looking at him. "He's dead. You know about your mother now."

"But it's all too late." Ivy said stubbornly, "I've realized it all too late. Cara's dead. She doesn't get to see him die or be free from him. She doesn't get her happy ending. We don't get to-"

"Ivy." Harry cut her off, although she wasn't sure she could continue anyway. "You can't keep blaming yourself for this. She didn't die because of you. She didn't fall in love with Petrov because of you. You aren't responsible for your father's actions. And you weren't the only one failing your relationship. This wasn't your fault, and I don't think your sister would blame you either."

"I just-" Ivy rested her head back and blinked away the tears. "I'm still so angry with her, but she's fucking dead. I should be grieving her, right? Forgiving her? But I'm so fucking pissed all the time. I don't have the right-"

"Okay, stop." Harry shifted so he could look at her more clearly. "Who's to say that anger isn't part of the grieving process? You're allowed to feel however you want, Ivy. Your sister did some stupid shit, she made mistakes that you warned her against. It's fair for you be angry. But... What you're describing , it sounds more like regret."

She blinked up at him, squeezing his hand under the warm water.

"You regret not actually getting to know her. You thought you had more time, but it was cut short because of actions took by others. When Cara made the mistake of trusting Petrov, you warned her against it. When she realized you were right and tried to leave him, you were there to help her. She trusted you."

"Because Finn didn't answer the call first." Ivy said.

"So?" Harry challenged, "You were second on her list to call. That's not a knock on you. You two weren't close, but she knew you would drop everything to try and protect her."