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“Why didn’t you tell me?” Max mutters angrily, gaining both of our attention. Harrison is still holding my hand, and when Max talks, he squeezes it tighter. We both hear the hurt in his voice and now we have to deal with the consequences.
“Max, I never wanted to keep this from you, but I also know how protective you are of me—”
“For good reason, Zo. You’re my little sister. I always need to keep an eye on you. I never want to see you hurt.”
“You don’t need to keep an eye on me, Max. I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself. I know you love me, but I need you to respect me too, and a part of that is letting me love who I want to love,” I explain, straightening my spine.
I know we don’t technically love each other, but it’s definitely something that my family need to hear to know I’m serious. I glance over to Owen, his brows are furrowed as he stares at Harrison and my connected hands, but he hasn’t said anything yet, and I daren’t look at my father.
Max looks torn between wanting to punch Harrison and giving in because I know I’ve struck a chord with him. “You’re right. I’m sorry if I’ve been an overbearing arsehole.” He shakes his head and holds his arms out for me. Without hesitation, I let go of Harrison’s hand and run into my big brother's arms.
Relief washes over me as I think about all the ways this could’ve gone badly. “Ifyou’ve been an overbearing arsehole? That’s your apology? I don’t know if you know the meaning of the word.” I tease.
“Fine, I’m sorry.”
I squeeze him harder. “Maybe I didn’t give you enough credit either,” I whisper into his shoulder.
“Why?”
“I thought you’d punch your best friend.”
Max chuckles but doesn’t let me go. “The night is still young.”
When we break apart, Max moves to Harrison and hugs him, probably whispering death threats into his ear. The thought makes me laugh. Owen comes around them both and assesses me. “I knew there were heart eyes when you were pretending not to know Harrison on the plane.”
I smile. “I never kiss and tell, big brother,” I reply as I hug him too. Owen’s hugs are so different to Max’s. Max hugs you like it’s the first and last time he’ll ever see you when Owen is so stiff and unwelcoming. He’s hugging me because society says it’s what he should do in this situation and not because he wants to. “Thank you for not punching my husband.”
“I’ve punched him enough times to know that I always come off worse, so my self preservation kicked in. You’re welcome.” He pulls back and I stare into his eyes, exactly the same as mine, and grin.
“You and Harrison fought?”
“All the time when we were kids. I won once, and that was the last time I ever threw a punch his way.”
That makes me laugh, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s okay again.
“If you are done, I’d like to speak to Zoey… alone.” My father's unforgiving voice filters into the happy bubble I’m temporarily in, well and truly popping it.
No one moves an inch, which makes me feel marginally better. They don’t want to leave me with him—not that he’d hurt me—he leaves all that to his words, just like my mother.
“With respect, John. Whatever you need to say to Zoey, you can say with me present.” Harrison comes to my side again and takes my hand, giving me an anchor to hold me for a moment. And it hits me; I’ve never had that before. It’s always been me against them. Just me constantly fighting my corner, but now I have Harrison with me, and it feels… really fucking good.
“As you wish. Boys, darling, please give us the room for a second,” he says with enough dominance in his tone that they all leave. Max casts a weary glance over his shoulder as he exits.
Anticipation fills my lungs as I try to breathe, even though it feels like there isn’t a whole lot of oxygen in this room that’s breathable. Just toxic air radiating from my father.
“I’d like to say I’m surprised Zoey, but I’m actually disappointed.”
Oh good. The whole I’m disappointed card. I’m familiar with this speech. I’ve heard it enough growing up that I’m practically immune to its effect on me now. “Are we going to pretend that’s new for us?”
His nostrils flare and he opens his mouth to say something, but clamps it closed with a forceful snap. The silence between us sits heavily in the room because if I know anything, it’s how my parents act right before they’re about to explode. My father’s murderous eyes glare into the drink in his hand.
“I’m going to assume you think I’m not stupid and give you one chance to come clean. Both of you,” he spits without looking up.
I tentatively glance over to Harrison, who shifts uncomfortably for a second, then his jaw twitches and he drops my hand, stepping forwards. “John, I’m not sure what you expect us to tell you. What Zoey and I have is real. It might be something we built in secret, but that doesn’t mean it’s less than if we were honest from the start.”
“I thought you were smarter than this impulsive behaviour, Harrison. It’s beneath you.”
Harrison scoffs but stiffens. “Not that my personal life should be any of your business, but Zoey and I are not impulsive. We are two people who want to spend our lives together.”
