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“So?”
“So she still worships you.” Carter’s standing easily now. He’s sure that nothing’s going to happen. “You can’t go back and un-bond with her. You can’t go back and stay in bed whenever she cried at night. You want to tell yourself it was just about Dad, fine, but it wasn’t. She’s different, and you know it.”
Leo says nothing. His chest hitches, but he doesn’t react to it.
“You saved her so many times, and you never even told her. You didn’t let her see the bruises. You let her think it was a game the two of you were playing until you absolutely couldn’t anymore. I would bet all the money in my pocket that her earliest memories are of you, not Mom and Dad.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“You do this, and it’s worse than if Dad did. You didn’t let her see this side of you. You knew it would hurt her.”
Leo looks at Carter, a depthless anger in his eyes. “He took her. And now she’s not painting.”
“I know. But she loves him. Look at her. She put her body in front of his. She’d rather die than have you kill him.”
Leo studies my face again, and I can see him struggling. He doesn’t want me to love Emerson. He doesn’t trust that I do. That it’s of my own free will, as much as love can be. I’m going to cry if this goes on much longer. It’s too much raw emotion to contain in my body. I need to paint, otherwise I’ll spend the rest of my life with a broken heart.
In his way, Leo thought he was giving me freedom. That’s the hardest thing about trying to be independent. About living my own life. Not that he’s unhappy with me, but that he feels like he’s lost something. That he’s failed. But he didn’t. He gave me everything he could, always.
“Don’t do this now.” Carter sounds so reasonable. So calm. “You shielded her from this for so long. You know you can’t come back from killing him. You know it won’t be the same.”
“I don’t expect it to be the same. I just want her to be safe.”
“I am,” I insist. I can feel Emerson’s heart pounding. He still thinks he’s going to die. “I wanted to be with him, and I went. I’d do it again.”
“You would?” Leo says.
“Yes, but not because I’m afraid. It’s because I’m safe here. You have to trust me.”
There’s a long silence, and I think I see tears in Leo’s eyes. He’s not used to trusting people. He’s not used to trusting safety. He wasn’t safe for most of his life. And now that he is, it’s precious. Now that he has Haley, he understands what it means. And with the baby coming, it probably seems like it’s slipping away.
“You have to hear him too, Daphne,” Carter says.
Carter looks at Leo until Leo sighs. He looks up at the ceiling of Emerson’s gallery and rubs one hand over his eyes.
“I know I’ve been… overzealous. We can—Jesus. We can fucking talk about it, Daphne. But I need to know you’re okay. I care about you too much not to know.”
“Would you just please.” My voice breaks. “Go back to being my brother? I really miss you.”
Leo’s face falls. His shoulders sag. I think he might come hug me, but then he turns his head, blinking like he’s ridding himself of tears.
That’s when he sees the painting.
The entire world zeroes down on his face, and my stomach drops.
He’s seeing it for the first time. They were fighting, and he didn’t notice. Leo’s eyes snap from painting to painting, blank shock on his face.
“What the fuck,” he murmurs under his breath.
The whole gallery is my work. Ocean after ocean. Emerson has collected every piece I had for sale and even a couple that weren’t. Most of them are here, in this room. Emerson didn’t tell me that he bought the piece at the auction, but he didn’t have to. I’ve seen it in here lots of times, mostly from my viewpoint in the frame.
I’ve never asked him about it. There was nothing to ask. And I didn’t think Leo would come here.
Clearly, I didn’t think about a lot of things. This is like watching a wave barrel down on me from the far reaches of the ocean and being unable to stop it. I want to scream at Leo not to look, but it’s too late.
Leo turns to face Blood on the Water.
My heart explodes. Shattered glass everywhere.
