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“They might be brutal men,” Aria states, breaking into my thoughts. “But they fight and love with the same intensity.”
There’s a half-smile on Aria’s face when she turns back to the saucepan. It makes me think of her with Carter. The two of them as a couple. She’s kind and generous, and he’s a Cross brother, but…they clearly work. The two of them have overcome whatever fears either of them had. It probably happened over time.
I’ve heard stories though. I know she grew up in this life and she has a brutal side to her as well. I wonder if she was always like this or if Carter made her this way.
I wonder what I’ll grow to be and how much like her I may become. My heart pangs, even Declan used to be different. This world turned him brutal.
There’s a massive difference between how I felt about Declan as a child and when I walked in here weeks ago. How I feel about him now is just as different. Back then, I mostly felt bad for Declan and his brothers. Losing their mom and their father being the way he has…
It’s one of the reasons I was so drawn to him. He was like a broken bird. He only needed someone to love him. I could feel it even as a little girl.
So to love him now…of course I do. Of course I love him. It’s not him that holds me back, it’s this fucked-up brutal world and all that comes with loving a man like him.
My signature on a sheet of paper doesn’t seem like as much protection as bodyguards and guns, but it is. It keeps me safe in a way that Declan might not always be able to with brute force and an intimidating presence.
If I can understand that, so can my mom. Somehow, we can make this work. We have to, because life isn’t worth living without the people I love.
My face heats up at the thought. It’s as if I blinked and I see it all so differently. I was so scared before that I couldn’t see how much they meant to me, or how much I meant to them. Everything seemed hopeless. Now I know that it’s not, and here I am, tempted to give in to those feelings.
“They care for you, Braelynn.” Aria doesn’t turn to face me as she stirs the meat sauce in the pan, but her voice is gentle. “I was there when the lawyer called, and he told us—” She shakes her head. With a few taps of the spatula on the edge of the pan, she puts it down and finally looks at me. “I care for you, too. So if you ever feel low again, will you tell me? I’m here for you. We’re all here for you.”
“Ever feel low?” I whisper the way she said it and feel my throat get tight. We both know what she’s talking about. The window incident.
“I don’t judge you,” she says firmly. “All of us have our issues.”
“I think…” I run my hand over my hair. Behind me, the water is starting to bubble. I can hear them popping at the surface. “I think I mostly just don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s fine.” She reassures me with a quick smile. “We don’t have to talk about it. We can do whatever you need.”
Aria’s kind. She’s almost too kind, which makes me feel more conflicted. I don’t know if I can trust her. I don’t know if I can trust anyone. Guilt twists my stomach for even having the thought in the first place.
What the hell is wrong with me? With the water boiling, I shove it all down and grab the box of spaghetti.
The guilt doesn’t go away as I put the noodles into the boiling water and set a timer. Aria works on the sauce, stirring in spices, and we stand side-by-side in front of the stove.
Neither of us says much, and Aria seems fine with not talking. That makes me feel even guiltier. I don’t have any business not trusting her, I guess. She hasn’t done anything to make me think she’d try to hurt me on purpose.
Hell, I’m the one who messaged her.
I’m hungry and emotional. That’s all this is. I can’t be expected to think straight when today has gone the way it has and I’m starving.
Aria takes down plates before I can even ask where they are. She prepares the plates while all I do is watch. “Come on. Sit down and let’s figure it out.”
For a second, I think she’s talking about the whole situation, and that doesn’t seem like something we can solve over a plate of pasta. “Figure out what?”
She turns to look me in the eye as she answers, “When would be a good time to meet your mom and to introduce her to your new husband.”
DECLAN
That fucker didn’t let me out of there till 3:00 a.m. I sat in a room doing fuck all with nothing but my damn thoughts and an old-ass heater clicking on and off every twenty fucking minutes.
There are four bottles of whiskey on the bar cart and I choose the one closest. I don’t give a fuck which one I drink so long as it’ll stop my racing thoughts. I just want to sleep and have a moment of rest.
“You all right?” Carter’s voice startles me from behind.
“Nothing I haven’t been through before,” I answer him. He’s dressed in black silk pajama bottoms and looks like he rolled out of bed. “What are you doing up?”
“Waiting for you to get home. Did you check on Braelynn?” he asks me…which is out of the norm.
