“Yeah.” Heaving a sigh, he turned his head, propping his hands on his hips. “She’s dying.”
“You said.” I shook my head. “How can a ghost die? Explain that to me.”
“I can’t make sense of any of it.” He dropped his hands, flexing his fingers at his sides. “If she needed money, I’d understand it, but we both know she walked away with more than she could spend in a lifetime.”
“I can’t imagine she thought she’d get any sympathy from us.”
“Right.” He looked at me again, and there was something I didn’t like behind his expression. “She looked really bad.”
I pointed at him. “What’s that? You’re not…don’t tell me you’re falling for it. Sheleftus, Roman. We owe her nothing.”
“I’m not falling for anything. If I decide to speak to her, that won’t affect you.”
My head snapped back an inch like he’d physically pushed me. “Decide to speak to her?” I echoed. “What the hell does that even mean? You’re considering it?”
“I’m considering letting her say whatever it is she dragged herself back here to say. That’s it.”
“Why?” The word came out harshly. Sharper than I meant, but not by much. “Why give her even a single second of your time? You’re not her therapist. You’re not her priest. You’re not”—I gestured vaguely—“whatever the male version of a fairy godmother is.”
That got the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Godfather,” he supplied.
“You’d be terrible at that job. Imagine yourself in a tutu and wings. It doesn’t work.” The humor leeched out of me all over again. “What happens when you crack the door open for her? I’ll tell you, she’ll wedge her way in, and then what? She wants Nate. Then Adrian. Then she starts sniffing around Mazz and Kat. Not to mention Shira, Ruby, and Jonah.”
“I’m not cracking the door. I’m shutting it. If I let her have her say, I’m hoping she’ll leave the rest of you alone.”
Now I understood. That was my brother, always sacrificing himself for us. Even when it hurt. He’d rather bleed from a thousand paper cuts than let any of us be cut once.
“You don’t always have to be the one who steps in front of the bullet for everybody,” I said quietly. “I know you think it’s your job, but it isn’t.”
His gaze flicked up, steady and stubborn as ever. “It is if I choose it to be.”
I scoffed. “You’re not a knight. You don’t have to be noble.”
“I’d be doing it for myself too.” His voice was softer now. “I need to hear it. Whatever it is. Then I can finally stop wondering.”
I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling hard through my fingers. “You’re impossible, you know that? Absolutely impossible. You should’ve been born a lamb with all that sacrificing.”
A tiny, tired huff of laughter escaped him. “You done?”
“Not even close.” I stepped forward, clapping his shoulder. “But you’re your own person. If you want to speak to her, do it. I’m not happy about it, but I won’t try to stop you. Even though you’re being really dumb.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, squeezing my arm.
Stepping out into the cool night air, I sucked in a long breath and forced my feet down the familiar path to my own front door, but every step felt heavier.
By the time I reached my porch, all I could think about was Mazzy. Her arms. It’d been two days, but I missed her so badly, I ached for her. I pushed through the door, ready to crawl straight into her, let her chase the ghosts right back out of my head.
“Mazz?” I called, dropping my bags at my feet. “I’m home, baby.”
A creak upstairs broke the quiet, and my feet moved on their own, taking me home to her. By the time I made it to the base of the stairs, she was at the top, a vision in one of my T-shirts, her hair spilling in waves over her shoulders.
“Ben,” she whispered.
I took two steps at a time, scooping her up as soon as she was within reach, and kept going, carrying her into our bedroom, my face buried in her hair.
She smelled good—like me. She’d stayed here while I was gone, used my shampoo. I liked that, but at the same time, Iwished she had her things here. Her shampoo in my shower, her clothes in my closet. I wanted her here.
Always.
