“Not even remotely close, so scratch that thought.” He was so calm about it, and I just want River to know it was me who started all of this.
Elijah was the perfect gentleman.
“You clearly did something for her to jump into bed with you. Out of all the fucking people you could have fucked to get over mum, why did it have to be her?”
“Don’t refer to your sister as just a meaningless fling because she is so much more than that, and if you give me the chance to explain…”
My hand closes around his elbow, pulling him back just enough so I can step in front of him. A silentI've got this.
When I look back at River, the sight of him guts me.
There are tears in his eyes.
My chest cracks.
“It's not like that,” I say, softer now, trying to make himsee. “He was there for me through everything. He... he saved me, River.”
He saved me in so many ways.
“Oh, please,” Rose cuts in. “He was just trying to get into your pants, Willow. Don't be so naive.”
A feeling inside me breaks, like an elastic band that has been stretched too far.
“Shut up,” I spat, my voice shaking with anger as I turned on her. “You had no right. Nofuckingright.”
She doesn't even care; she just smiles, showing all her teeth.
“Do you hate me that much?” I push. “That you'd go out of your way to hurt your own son just to spite me? Or Elijah?”
Stupid question. We all know she hates me; there's no surprise that she's pulled this stunt.
River moves before I can react. He shoves past me, and in the same breath, his fist connects with Elijah's jaw.
“Elijah,” I shout as his head snaps to the side from the force.
My heart stutters, panic flooding through me.
River isn't a violent person. He rarely raises his voice when he's angry, so seeing him hurt his dad is completely out of character for him.
“River—”
He turns away, fury etched on his face as he casts one last, heated glance at Elijah. His fist clenches, trembling from their confrontation. The silence that follows is heavy, thick with unspoken words.
Without another word, he strides to the door, each step imbued with rage. When he slams the front door, it reverberates through the house like a thunderclap, a jarring reminder of the rift between us. Left in the aftermath, I stand there, grappling with a storm of emotions—fear, sorrow, and an unsettling uncertainty about what comes next.
Everything inside me tightens painfully.
I know he’s angry and hurt because I didn’t tell him—my brother and best friend.
The one person I've always told everything to.
No matter how busy our lives got, that has never changed.
Until now.
I hate myself for lying to him, but not for what I have been keeping from him.
“Are you okay?” I choke out, my lip trembling as I already see a red bruise forming.
