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His cheeks turn red from the force of keeping himself in check. Out of the corner of my eye, I clock the way his fists clench so hard, he’s likely drawing blood and internally, I fucking preen.
Glad to see it’s his blood being spilled this time.
“You’re really staying?” Eve whispers, stepping from behind his back for the first time.
We’re only inches apart now, nothing but stagnant air and a world's worth of feelings between us. Slowly, my gaze moves from Isaac’s to hers, and I’m shocked at what I see.
It’s not the tears streaming down her pretty pink cheeks or the tiny tremble in her lower lip that surprise me. Not the way her shoulders shake or her pounding pulse below her ear.
It’s the small, golden-tan, freckled hand extended between us that takes me by surprise, as does the hopeful expression in her shimmering eyes.
But more than that, it’s me that shocks me the most.
Instead of being happy to finally be in her presence, or thankful that she wants me here, I’m fucking elated to have the opportunity to destroy every ounce of hope festering inside her.
Smiling softly, I lean in, letting my finger ghost across her cheek without making contact and whisper, “Aren’t you excited to have me back, little sister?”
“Aren’t you going to go after him?” I cry, throwing my hand at the door Roman just disappeared behind, his cigarette smoke still lingering like a bad dream. My body is frozen in shock, and I’m half wondering if that really just happened. If Roman is really back.
When silence greets my words, I whirl on the man hovering in the darkness, my heart lodged in my throat. “Isaac!”
“I can’t do this right now,” he says under his breath, his hand fluttering through the air absently.
He looks around, his eyes more frantic than I’ve ever seen them. His fingers rake through his hair repeatedly as he spins in place, blindly searching. Swallowing thickly, I yank the curtains open, bathing the dim room in the soft Georgia light that’s such a contradiction to the ugly darkness blanketing my every nerve.
Isaac blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the change. His dark eyes meet mine and I choke at the coldness reflected back at me. It’s as if he’s gone, and his body is nothing but a shell of the man I know and love.
“Isaac,” I say again. This time, there’s no hiding the pleading in my voice.
He shakes his head once, saying nothing, his lips pressed tightly together. He ignores the bags he’d abandoned on the floor, just like he’s ignoring me, and snatches up his keys.
My mouth opens and closes as he shoves his way past me, his cologne momentarily filling me before Roman’s thick scent invades my senses again.
The door opens, the quiet screech of the screen loud in the otherwise oppressive silence. I’m unable to do anything but watch his shadowy form leave, slamming the door shut behind him.
So many emotions roar through me. A weird sense of excitement because Roman’s home, but also dread because of what that means for me. For us.
Roman’s back.
I run my hand through my hair, tugging on the tangles my fingers come in contact with. I can’t begin to understand Roman’s thoughts. If he saw us at the festival, why didn’t he just say hi? Why come all this way? To embarrass me? Embarrass Isaac?
I shouldn’t feel like this. I should hate that he’s home—and don’t get me wrong, I do. I do hate that he’s back after so much time away. Though he didn’t die the way Mama did, I mourned him just the same. Grieved his loss at a time when I could barely keep my head above water.
Still, that undeniable school girl crush I’ve always had on him has reared its ugly head and I can’t push away the feelings that are there, lingering just under the surface, begging to be let free.
I hate it.
And I hate him for making me feel this way. For bringing these feelings back up. For making me feel anything at all.
Tires crunching on gravel pull me from my thoughts, and I yank the door open, watching Isaac’s truck speed down the long drive, dust clouds billowing up on either side. My mouth drops open in shock.
I can’t believe he’s running away. That he’s leaving me here, alone, with Roman.
But a part of me understands why. Why Isaac has this intense desire to flee as far away from Roman and the memories that’ll inevitably come with his sudden return, make sense to me.
Maybe because I feel the same. Maybe because more than anything I’m terrified of what exactly Roman’s return will dredge up for me.
For Isaac.
