“IsaidI was going to make them,” I grit through a tightened jaw as I slam the freezer shut.
Shane halts. “Wait, are you actually pissed? I did you a favor and now you want to throw a fit about it? Who cares who made the food, either way Mom and Dad are good to go.”
I cross my arms, the heat of embarrassment mangling with frustration. “It’s not about who made the food. It’s about the fact that it’s always me. I’m the dependable one—the one they can count on. And now I can’t even do that right.”
A thick, heavy feeling sinks in my stomach. I said I would handle something, and I failed. And I hate failing. The arrest has been like a domino effect—one wrong move and everything is falling over.
Shane raises an eyebrow while resting against the counter. “So you’re mad because you’re not playing martyr this week? Jesus, Elle, maybe it’s okay to let someone else handle things for once.”
I narrow my eyes at him, my jaw clamping down further. “You don’t get it.”
When you’re part of a big family, something has to be yourthing. Gavin is the oldest—the good child and the calm, rational one of the bunch. Ethan’s running the family business. Shane is a goof-off and a manwhore, but the boy can cook. Layla’s probably the smartest of all of us. Ariana is the sweet, caring one.
And me? I’m the one everyone relies on. Need a party thrown together last minute? A babysitter in a pinch? An ex’s social media stalked? I’m your girl.
Because if I’m not the one holding everything together, then who am I?
“No, I think I do,” Shane says flatly. “You’ve tied your whole identity to being the one who does everything. It’s like you think the rest of us are useless. You bitch about not getting help, and then complain when someone does. God forbid anyone else takes the reins.”
His insinuation lands like a blow, twisting my stomach. I know he’s right. He knows he’s right. But admitting that feels like surrender, so I don’t. Instead, I let out a clipped sigh and grab a glass from the cupboard, pouring myself some water to distract from Shane’s assessment.
“Well, congratulations.” My voice is harsh. “Enjoy doing all the things. Don’t come to me and start complaining when you start to drown.”
He groans, running a hand through his hair, ruining the careful styling he’d whined about earlier. “You’re so goddamn territorial. I’m not trying to take over. I’m just trying to help. And maybe—just maybe—you need to let people do that every once in a while. Why is it always a fight? I’m just as capable as anyone else, but you treat me like a fucking kid. I can do things too, you know?”
I stare at him, his words stinging painfully. And from Shane of all people, which makes it worse. I didn’t realize he even cared about stuff like this. The kitchen is quiet now, the tension heavy.
Before I can come up with a retort, Ariana and Layla walk in.
“What’s all this bickering?” Ariana asks. The look of concern on her face has gnawing guilt starting to claw at my spine. Ariana hates it when any of us fight, always trying to be the mediator.
Shane and I exchange a look, and for a moment, the irritation between us dissipates. He gestures toward the dining room. “Come on, let’s eat. You can be mad at me after dessert.”
I roll my eyes but follow him out of the kitchen. I don’t want to fight, but I don’t know what to do with all the bottled up pressure I’ve been feeling lately. I’m out of sorts. Everything feels out of control.
“We’re fine, Ari,” I tell her as I brush past her to get to the dining room.
“Set an extra place,” my mom calls from the living room. “I invited a guest.”
Before I can question who this so-called guest is, there’s a knock at the front door. Only a guest would knock, the rest of us barge in.
“Elle, be a doll, and get that for me please,” my mom says.
She’s acting odd, her voice carrying a conspiratorial lilt.
“Okayyy,” I drag while I pad to the front door. The last time she acted this suspicious she invited a “nice girl” over to get to know Gavin. It didn’t go well.
My head is down as I turn the knob, eyes catching on the bits of grease Shane splattered on me when he was gesturing to all of his dishes earlier.Freaking Shane! I just bought these shoes.
When I finally do look up, the air whooshes out of me the moment I realize who’s on the other side of the door. Our eyes collide. Dominic’s pensive, penetrating brown ones hold mine captive.
You’re kidding me. Is there no escaping this man?
“Hey, Ellie girl.”
My stomach flips. I wish he would stop calling me that.
He smiles sheepishly, like he’s aware that I’m less than pleased by his presence.
