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“No good son of a bitch.”
My muttering is matched with the clattering of glass and objects as I send them flying to the floor from the oversized dresser. It does little to help diminish the way I feel, but for a few minutes, the sound of destruction makes a marginal dent.
Of course, I had to know Beckett would never take my side of it well, but to watch him walk away basically told me he didn’t want to hear anymore.
Lucky fucker to get to walk away. Not all of us get that luxury.
“I bought you this for your sixteenth birthday.”
Spinning around, I find Sebastian standing in the wreckage, holding a butterfly ornament that’s now missing a wing. He’s yet to look at me. Instead, his eyes roam the carnage, looking for the broken bit. Bending down, he picks it up, pushing the broken bits together.
“Bit of super glue might fix it.”
“I wish life was that easy.”
My murmured response gets his attention, and he frowns. His arms fall to his sides, the pieces separated all over again. He looks defeated in the fallout, and I realise it’s not just about the broken artifacts of my past life, it’s about the entire situation we’ve all lived.
“Was this your intention, or were you just never going to admit that something happened back then?”
“Back then when? When I was sixteen?”
With an exhausted sigh, he sets the broken ornament on the dresser and steps away from the mess I’ve made.
“Can you stop avoiding actual reality for just two seconds? You can stop running now, Talia. You have no reason to act like nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
It’s almost an impulse to push it aside, not deal with it, and just keep moving forward, but what good did that do me? What good did it do anyone?
“Stop,” he breathes, almost exasperated. “Beckett told me what happened. You could’ve told me.”
“Could I? Would you have listened?”
Dubious to the fact, I cock a brow. I don’t know anything anymore. Headstrong motions helped me come home. They also kept me going after being dragged back. Now, though, everything I knew no longer has purpose.
“Yes.” He takes two more steps towards me. “For what it’s worth, I’d have tried. For you, I would have.”
“Yeah, and how would that conversation have gone, Seb?Oh, hey, best friend of mine. Sorry I ghosted you for the better part of seven years, but now I’m home, did you know our best friend’s dad is a rapist?”
He flinches, and it’s good to know the very idea of it is enough to move them both for a fraction of a second to make them question what happened.
“Yeah, that would go down like a lead balloon.”
“If it got my attention, then I’d have listened.” He sighs heavily, as if trying to figure out where to lead this moment, but he seems lost. That is until he clears his throat. “You need to know that what Beckett went through wasn’t easier.”
I scoff, but he shakes his head.
Of course Beckett had it hard.
“I mean it, Talia. I’m not saying this to diminish anything you’ve been through, but you have to see that what happened, happened to you both. Alistair played a good game.”
“How do you know my side’s truthful? Beckett questioned it.”
He looks sorrowful for a moment before he softens. “Because I know you, and I know Alistair. Obviously, I never saw this playing out, but the idea of him playing you and Beck against one another isn’t the most shocking thing to hear.”
I divert my gaze. “It was only that one time.”
I felt I needed to say that—admit that while it did happen, it wasn’t a regular thing.
