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He just wasn’t ready for a real relationship. No matter how much he wished it was different, I knew those issues would haunt us. The fact that he didn’t value himself would always be working against us. He defaulted to self-destructive behavior because he didn’t believe he was worth the trouble. And I couldn’t live like that.
To watch him spiral again because his entire self worth was wrapped in us?
No. I couldn’t be part of that.
How were we supposed to get through the tough times if he didn’t believe in us? Our love was too new. It was feeding off lust and the excitement of learning someone inside and out. But he was forever focusing on me, not himself. It didn’t matter how much I gave, I couldn’t be the one to sustain him.
“There’s a lot going on in those eyes, sis.”
I sighed and tipped my head against his shoulder. Hayes had always been the more introspective of my brothers. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too.”
“Even if you’re going to steal my bed.”
“I’m not going to steal your bed.”
“Like Mom will let you sleep on the couch.”
“One kid or the other, what difference does it make? Besides, I’m smaller. The couch will be fine for tonight.”
“Just you watch, I’ll be on the couch.”
“Well, if you scram, I’ll snuggle back down and fall asleep again. Then you’ll be golden.”
“Nah.”
“Seriously, H. I’m good out here. Or is there another reason you don’t want to sleep back there?”
“What? No.”
“Seems Mom adopted a certain someone from the store.”
“Willa? Um, no. Nothing there between us.”
I nudged him again. “You sure?”
“Very.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
He stood up and tossed a throw blanket at my head. “Night, Z.”
“Night.”
My sleep was fitful after that. I’d had just enough to not let me slide back under easily. I dug my phone out and scrolled through social media. I smiled at the sweet little picture of booties Margo and Simon had added to their Instagram pages. My eyes got a little misty from all the replies from their band members.
The members of Oblivion—and various spouses—were a tight-knit group. Even with their own individual families taking over, there was a bond that I’d personally never seen outside of my own family. I’d been here at the orchard when they’d come for Christmas dinners at my aunt’s house. I’d seen them all interact over the years. And Lila and Nick were a staple at the other side of the orchard. It was a large enough property that our two families lived in harmony. Just close enough to be there when we needed each other, and far enough apart that we didn’t feel like everyone was in our business constantly.
The Mannings and Ronsons had bookended the orchard for a few generations. Fred and Laverne tended to take care of the shops and lodging, and they’d even started doing weddings in the last few years. My dad and brothers took the lead on the orchards and staff who took care of them.
Family was all I knew. Even being out in Venice, I knew I had that home life to lean on if I needed it. Well, minus the orchid farm my mom had created out of my bedroom. What the hell was that all about?
I settled deeper into the smushed pillows I’d made into the perfect cocoon and scrolled some more. A few artist friends I followed showed off their gallery photos. Part of me wished I’d stayed in the program. Even if it didn’t fit me anymore, I still longed for all that creativity around me.
A blurry picture with a play button came up in my feed.
