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It’s not that I’m happy something happened to Luca and Ava, but it dragged Ezra away for a few hours, giving Emily and me time without him.
When she arrived at the house, I couldn’t help myself. I pulled her into a hug, nuzzled her neck with my face, fucking breathed her in, the scent of her shampoo and light perfume easing the barrage of memories and emotions assaulting me.
I can think when she’s around. But then, I guess that’s what happens when your heart returns and you feel it beating.
When yourhomereturns and you’re no longer lost.
After leading her into the back room with the bullshit lie I was interested in watching a movie, I sat her down on the couch and took a seat in front of her.
I poured out all the words I had for her … again.
Only for her to reject me … again.
Only for Ezra to come home and start a fight … again.
They’d run off to Ezra’s room like I didn’t exist. As if I wasn’t part of the fucked-up threesome. But then I heard my name being mentioned in their argument. Something about telling me the truth. Only that truth didn’t come out. Not even when I went in there to stop the fighting and Ezra attacked me for the attempt. Emily demanded I leave, but I didn’t go far. I wanted to hear the truth they had between them that neither had bothered admitting to me.
It never came.
I’m standing in the hall when Emily finally runs out of his room.
Quiet as a mouse, I’d listened to most of the conversation, not scared off too far by Ezra attempting to beat my ass when I’d first walked in there.
I’d only retreated this far because Emily asked me to leave, and I refuse to hurt her like he does. I refuse to treat her like she doesn’t deserve respect.
Not like Ezra.
Not like he always has.
Anger flashes through me as soon as Emily turns the corner to find me standing there waiting for her. She knows what they said to each other and that I overheard.
Pausing for just a split second, hesitation runs through her expression, her red hair flying forward over her shoulders when her guilty eyes meet mine.
I’m sorry… she doesn’t say.
She doesn’t even need to say that much. I love her enough to give her that peace while all my asshole brother can do is torment her.
He’s tearing down our home without giving the first fuck what it does to us when she’s gone.
I won’t do the same.
I’m better than that.
I’m better for her.
But she’ll never see it.
Nodding once, I acknowledge the apology she couldn’t speak and move out of her way, the scent of her perfume left behind to haunt me as she runs past.
When she’s gone, I listen to Ezra punch the walls of his room, a monster attempting to break apart his cage.
For any other reason, I would walk in there and fight him down.
Calm him down.
Remind him that we’re not in this alone.
Never have been.
