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“It’s not your fault,” we all say, sounding like a chorus of people at an AA group. Orson has finally calmed down enough to get back into the hot tub, and Voss hands Orson his personal bottle of whiskey.
“Take a drink, bear, you need it.”
“I’m good, but thanks,” Orson says, handing it back. I watch the exchange with so much jealousy pouring off me it’s insane, and the stupid fox knows it. He meets me eyes, smirks, before taking a sip.
Fucker.
He won’t be feeling the same way when I replace it with cheap whisky after drinking the good shit.
“Someone else say something,” Atticus commands. “I’m sick of being the only one feeling like shit.”
“The Alpha has spoken,” Orson says, still sounding pissed off at Atticus.
“I feel like I failed her.” I say, all eyes darting to me.
“Why do you feel that way?” Micah asks, and I hear the tremor in his voice, and it pisses me off.
“Am I not allowed to have feelings?” I ask before sighing. Once again, I immediately go back to the sarcastic defence mechanism to push everyone else away. “I just think that everyone else has their place in her life, and they’ve managed to be there for her in this aftermath… and I just haven’t.”
“That’s not the case,” Fin says, leaning forward in his spot. I shrug.
It might not be the case, but that doesn’t change how I feel.
“We talked,” Atticus says. “Nora and I, and she feels so guilty. Especially in regards to you, Orson.”
I roll my eyes at being dismissed a little bit, but listen in to what’s being said.
“What do you mean?” Orson asks. “Why me?”
“Because of your sister,” Micah says, and based on the way he said it, Nora has clearly mentioned something about this to him, too.
I hope to god the bear gets a turn before me—I don’t want to have to sit and hear about his fucking feelings.
“Fuck me.” Orson closes his eyes as his pink skin seems to pale. “She’s been holding onto that,” he says, and both Atticus and Micah nod.
“Seems that way,” Voss says dryly.
“Fuck me,” Orson says, his breathing as ragged as his hair. “They’re two completely different situations.”
“We know that,” Fin says, “But Nora doesn’t get it because she’s mentally ill. She’s struggling under the weight of her own mental illness, her own dark thoughts, that she can’t separate herself from your sister. In her mind, she’s another woman who has failed you.”
“My sister didn’t fucking fail me!” Orson snaps, slamming his hand down in the water, splashing me. I glare at the movement, but don’t interrupt.
“She didn’t fail me,” Orson says, his hands trembling as he speaks. I can’t decipher whether they’re shaking in his upset, or if he’s angry.
“No,” Griffin replies. “I know that, but in Nora’s head, I’m pretty sure that’s how she’s building it up.”
“How do you know?” Micah asks.
“Because, again, I have a father who deals with this for a living, and I listen to what he says.” I hate how smug the griffin sounds here.
It’s not my fault I was born from two fucking assholes who only care about Micah. It’s not my fault I survived a fucking abortion.
“I know that depression isn’t an easy thing to deal with, and there’s no quick fix. All we need to do is continue showing her that we love her and that we’re here for her and that we will support her through this,” Fin continues. “Being here this weekend is going to be good for her. I think once we’ve all had the chance to talk to her separately, then we do the admission into the pride.”
Atticus nods, and even I kind of like the idea.
“We’ll have to throw her some kind of party,” I say, and they all look at me funny. “What?” I demand.
