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DELILAH

“How is everything with the new place?” Celia is all warmth and sunshine over dinner, the first meal where I don’t feel like a completely unwelcome outsider. This time, we’re not staying here. Just visiting. I’m sure that has something to do with it.

Once we found our apartment, Celia insisted we come over for dinner once a week—at least. “You’re so close. It would be a shame not to see more of you.” I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. Maybe Nic wants to keep an eye on his brother, and setting eyes on him at least once a week is part of that. To make sure he stays on the straight and narrow.

“It’s great.” And it is, though, for some reason, I feel like I have to play it up even more while I’m in front of them. “The last of the furniture finally came in, so we’re not eating all of our meals on the sofa anymore.” Though I didn’t mind when we were. It was an excuse to sit down together, watch a movie, and sort of relax. Relaxing is something Lucas isn’t very good at.

“I can’t wait to see it.”

“You’ll have to come by soon.” I smile at Lucas, who nods since his mouth is full.

“I would like to see it, too.” As usual, I get the feeling Nic’s words have a double meaning. He wants to see the apartment to check in and make sure Lucas is doing okay. I get that he wants to do what’s best for his brother, but there are times when he sets my teeth on edge. There’s a line between being a caring brother and acting like a giant know-it-all. I’m sure Nic has done things in his life that he’s not exactly proud of now, no matter how he acts now that he’s married and civilized.

“You’re more than welcome. I’d offer to make a nice dinner, but we might be better off having something delivered.”

Lucas snickers. “She’s trying.”

“Excuse me if I never had many opportunities to learn to cook when the stove only had one working burner, and you could only use the oven at your own risk.”

“That reminds me of the first time this one tried to cook for me.” Nic offers his wife a genuine grin, and she rewards him by swatting at him with her napkin.

“This one? Who were you talking about, a cat or your wife?”

“It was pretty grim.” He laughs.

“I was never exactly given the opportunity to cook for myself,” Celia explains after rolling her eyes at her husband.

“Anyway,” Nic continues, turning toward me, “you could afford to have somebody come in and handle that for you.”

I know he means well, and of course, he is right. I have more than enough money for an entire staff if I want one. But that isn’t the kind of life I want to live. I would always feel like a faker, a poser, somebody trying to fit in where they simply don’t.

“I don’t know. I kind of like the idea of being domestic.”

Celia nods enthusiastically. “That’s the thing about having choices. You can decide for yourself. You have that freedom now. I’m so glad for you.” From the corner of my eye, I notice Lucas giving her a grateful look.

This is nice, almost like being part of a family. That’s sort of what we are, even if Lucas and I aren’t married. I don’t know if that will ever happen, even if I know he’s the only man I want to be with. And now that he’s stopped trying to push me away, I know he only wants to be with me. I have every intention of this lasting forever.

I just wish I knew how to help him. I want so much to ask Nic what he thinks I can do, but I know it would kill Lucas if his brother knew how he’s struggling. And he is, no matter how much he tries to pretend otherwise for my sake.

Like when I wake up sometimes and find him pacing the living room in the middle of the night. Or the way he spends so much time working out, like a man on a mission. When I innocently asked after the first few days in the apartment why he spends so much time practically beating himself to a pulp with his workouts, he shrugged. “I have to do something.” At the time, I thought he meant he was bored, but after thinking about it for a while, I understood he meant he needed a way to vent all those dark things inside him that didn’t involve drinking, fighting, or hurting anybody.

I’m proud of him for trying so hard to improve, but it hurts to see how he beats himself up. A part of me thinks he’s punishing himself, still, over the situation with Aspen. It’s driving him crazy, not being able to check in on her all the time. He’s not a man who likes sitting back and letting other people handle things while he has no input. He needs to be part of things.

I know how much he wanted to make things work. He just didn’t know how. He probably still doesn’t.

So it’s like living two different lives, sharing an apartment with him. On the one hand, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. It feels natural, us being together. There’s nobody around to threaten me, and we don’t have to sneak around. We’re free to be together, as simple as that. And it’s amazing.

On the other hand, there’s still a wall between us. He tries. I know he does, but there’s no getting over it. We can’t be really happy as long as he isn’t. There’s still a part of him missing, though he’s trying so hard to pretend otherwise for my sake.

It makes me wonder if I’ll ever be enough for him. That’s all I want to be. I want to take everything else away—all his pain and guilt. It isn’t easy, but I keep reminding myself it’s not my fault. He has to deal with some things on his own, just like I have things I need to deal with on my own.

Like the nightmares that still sometimes visit, I can go a week or two without one, then, all of a sudden, I’ll spend a whole night afraid to close my eyes because every time I do, I see Nathaniel in front of me.

But at least when I wake up from a nightmare, Lucas is there to hold me and comfort me. I can’t do that for him. He won’t let me. Aside from our usual rough and sometimes kinky sex, I can’t offer him solace.

He reaches into his back pocket when his phone rings. A glance at the screen makes his face go slack for a moment. “Xander.” I can’t stifle a soft gasp. Nobody from Corium has reached out to Lucas since the day we left, Xander included. A sneaking sense of dread creeps up my spine and makes me shiver.

Rather than excuse himself, he answers while sitting at the table. “Xander. What can I do for you?” I glance at Celia. She’s grimacing, her gaze darting back and forth between Lucas and a curious Nic.

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