Page 39 of This Reckless Home

I sink down onto the bench, heavier now than I’ve ever felt. My elbows go to my knees, my head in my hands as I just try to fucking breathe.

But like everything else in my shitty life, I fail at that too.

“FALLING TOO” BY VEDA GAIL

BLOSSOM

Jus’s enthusiasm is infectious and both George and I are beaming as we pack up after he runs off to show Sally his card. It’s so sweet that they’re getting along so well.

“Thank you, George,” I say as I walk him to the door.

“No, thank you, Miss. Devonshire.” I’ve long since given up on insisting he call me Blossom. “Allowing me to help these kids, it always brightens my day. And beats the rat race of corporate finance that’s for sure.”

He gives me a wave, going to his car and I shut the door, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. He’s right. It’s a privilege to help these kids who the system can’t or won’t. It’s not always the fault of the CPS, they have to do too much with too little.

But still, knowing that we’re making a real difference is something that’s precious.

I stroll through the house, wondering where Anatole is. Nox and Steele are still at work, but Anatole is usually back by now, checking in with Justin.

My stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of seeing him, like it does each time. Nothing else has happened since James on Monday. Since he, along with the others, confessed their jealousy. I wasn’t able to talk to them like I promised Nox, life and my own insecurities got in the way.

But it’s like Anatole has taken a step back again, and although it hurts a little, I also can’t help wondering if it’s because of something I’ve done.

Squaring my shoulders, I decide I’ll just go and see if he’s in the pool house, maybe try and chat to him.

Or kiss him. I wonder if he kisses more like Steele and his primal possession? Or Nox and his dominating precision?

Hold your horses. You don’t even know if he wants to kiss you. Though he did almost kiss me⁠—

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear rasping breaths coming from the new raspberry patch, like someone can’t breathe. I hurry around an old bush to come up short when I find Anatole on the bench, posture slumped, shoulders shaking as his fingers grip his hair tightly.

I’ve never seen him like this. He’s usually so in control.

I slow my steps, approaching like I would a wounded animal.

“Anatole?” I ask softly when I’m in front of him. He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t acknowledge me. Just sits there with his head in his hands like the weight of the world is crushing him. “Are you okay, darling?”

A rough, broken laugh. “No.”

“Talk to me. Please.”

His head rises, slowly like he’s underwater, and my heart hurts when I see his red eyes, his cheeks damp. Even so, he tries to pull himself together, but he’s shaking too badly.

“I couldn’t give him that.” His voice is rough, breaking, and god it’s like he’s cutting my insides with a knife.

“Who, love?” I take another step, my hands twitching because I desperately want to pull him to me.

“Jus.”

The single word is so full of pain, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks and I can’t stand it.

“I tried so hard. Worked every shit job, saved every penny. And it was never enough. I couldn’t give him the security he needed.” His jaw works. “ I applied the day I turned eighteen. They had a file on me — my own fucking care file — and they used it. Said I was too young, too unstable, insufficient income, insufficient housing. My own history turned into a weapon against me, Bloom. Kinship care was supposed to mean something. But apparently I couldn’t give him a future. Couldn’t give him—” He breaks off, jaw clenching.

Before I’m thinking, I slide into his lap, wrapping my arms around him as I pull him so close my body shakes with each of his trembles.

“You kept him alive, love,” I tell him fiercely, his strong arms closing around me and gripping tight, like he’s holding on for dear life. “You kept him safe. You loved him, Anatole. When no one else did. You fought for him every single day.”

He shakes his head against me, a sob falling between us, and tears fill my own eyes at his agony. “It’s not enough. Never fucking enough.”