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“It’s been kind of a weird day.” I laughed mirthlessly. “It’s been a weird week. I don’t know where I go from here, or what’s going to happen.”
“No one does.”
“True, but the unknown is more frightening when you have as many enemies as I do.” My mug grew out of focus. “Every time I step outside, I see pretty, poised masks. Which one hides a monster?”
“Dark. That would keep me up too.”
“What is keeping you up?”
He looked around. “I don’t sleep well in any other bed but mine.”
“Must be tough. You spend a lot of time in beds that aren’t yours.”
We looked at each other, and laughed.
“I respect that you didn’t let that opening slide,” he said, grinning. “I set it up and you spiked it.”
“Too hard to resist, but I was kidding. I had insomnia for an entire month when I first moved to France. I couldn’t get comfortable in a bed that wasn’t mine either. I know what it’s like to be homesick,” I said, tracing my rim.
“I wish it was homesickness. Makes me sound all soft and cinnamon-rolly. No,” he said, rising up. “I haven’t been able to get a good night’s sleep outside of my house since I was eleven years old. The summer I went to camp.”
My last remnants of humor disappeared. “What happened?”
“Mom sent me to an exclusive, fancy camp with a bunch of kids from school. She thought I’d have a great time with all my friends but...” He paused to sip, using the chance to break my gaze. “I didn’t know how much my friends wanted to take a Wilson down a notch. From day one, they hit me with prank after prank.
“Harmless stuff at first. Putting makeup on me while I was sleeping. Shaving cream in the suitcase,” he said. “I gave as good as I got, pretending like we were all just goofing around even while the pranks got bigger and harsher. It kept going until one night they carried me mattress and all out onto the lake. I couldn’t swim.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth. “Did they know...?”
He raised his head, and nodded. “I woke up drowning, Luna. Water filling my lungs, choking me out before I could scream. It was only by chance one of the counselors was out for an early jog and saw me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here to make you the best damn hot chocolate there is.”
I didn’t give in to his attempt to lighten the mood. “Victor, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how terrified you were. An eleven-year-old should never experience that terrible moment when they believe they’re going to die.”
“Yeah, well.” He cleared his throat. “It was one bad day in an otherwise charmed life. I should be over it by now.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, cupping his cheek. “Not with me.”
“Yes, I do.” The words scraped out of him. “Every time I look at you... the pain in your eyes...” He let out a slow breath. “I don’t have the right to complain to you.”
“Opening up to me about how you feel isn’t complaining, Victor. I’d never be such a horrible ass to make someone feel their trauma is smaller than mine. Because it’s not small to you. That little boy’s fear matters. The stress you still feel matters. Which makes it even more incredible to me that you moved in here. I haven’t said it yet, but I really appreciate that you’re trying. Right now, this ring is my lifeline.” My pinkie stroked his. “I don’t want it to be your noose.”
“Is it weird to say it’s not?” He straightened, smiling into my eyes. “I’m eighteen. I should be pissed at being tied down. Freaked at becoming a father before I’m twenty-one.”
“You’ve got to stop talking about our children so casually.”
He laughed. “But that’s it. None of that scares me. I’ve always known a strategic marriage was in my future. Just like I’ve always known my father underestimated me. I’ve been waiting to prove him wrong my whole life. Now’s my chance.”
“You’ve always known you wouldn’t get to pick your wife?” I was still stroking his ring. “That didn’t bother you. You didn’t want love. Love like your parents have.”
“Love breaks people, Sinclair. It broke my mom when she lost Adonis’s father. It broke my brother when his fiancée left him. It breaks my parents because they’re the two most incompatible people you’d ever meet, but love each other so much they can’t be without the other—even if they’d be happier.”
“I didn’t know that about your parents. Seeing them together, I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Victor grinned without humor. “Don’t get me wrong. I mean it when I say they’re crazy for each other. They still flirt and giggle and make out, and it’s completely disgusting.”
I giggled.
“But Mom is the ‘day at the beach’ type, while Dad is the ‘day in the boardroom’ type. She’s champagne and he’s scotch. She’s big parties with guests she’s only met once. He’s a couple of beers on the porch with his buddies. They love each other, but my whole life I didn’t feel they understood each other.”
