He shakes his head, which is smooshed in my chest when I try to pull away to look at him. Can he even breathe? I have never dealt with someone who has panic attacks. How do I know if he needs help?
So, I sit there, straddling his legs. With one hand, I slowly and steadily run it up and down his back, attempting to ground him, comfort him, do something to stop his tremors, while his cries sound raw and distraught.
“I’m so sorry, Lily,” he chokes out, tears soaking through my shirt.
He doesn’t flinch when I pull him impossibly closer, not wanting any space between us, no matter how small.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” I say into his luscious hair.
For the first time in forever, I see the ugly truth—that the boy who always kissed my paper cuts away, put Band-Aids on my wounds, and tripped when I did so I wouldn’t feel silly alone is a sad man now.
He’s damaged.
Exploited.
FORTY-NINE
ELIJAH
Wake up, take a shower, brush my teeth, eat something, work, eat, go to bed.
I do that over and over again without feeling a single thing. Because I don’t deserve to feel. What do I have to be sorry about when I ruined the life of the most important person in my entire existence?
Nothing.
I deserve this.
Deserve the agony building in my chest, suffocating me with each movement, breath, and thought. If she lives in torture, I should live in even more.
“You don’t look so good, man. I think you should take a break.” Leonidas’s calculating eyes watch my every move.
My siblings, friends, and Lily are all treating me like I’m fine china. As if I didn’t just completely shatter someone’s career.
Lily is taking the job loss better than I am—how embarrassing is that? She’s constantly checking up on me, making sure I’m eating and getting enough sleep. Afraid I’m going to fall apart, she’s always behind me, following my footsteps.
“I’m perfectly fine,” I mutter rudely. “I always edit and post our videos.”
“But don’t you think you could use some sleep? We have a packed schedule.”
Annoyed, I huff and close the phone. “I’m aware we have the craziest show ahead, the most anticipated one, which happens to be our last show. But work still needs to get done.”
Our private plane is quiet. The only ones not asleep our Leonidas and me. Lily, only moments ago, had her head resting on my shoulder until I opened my mouth and started talking back to Leonidas. Now her forehead is resting on the airplane window. Yet she somehow still manages to look gorgeous.
Extending his arm across the aisle, he snatches the phone from my lap and shakes it. “I’ll finish it off so you can get some rest.”
Slouching back in a leather chair that’s meant to be comfortable but is making half my butt numb, I force my eyes shut.
Lily walks ahead up to Mom’s house on the beach, bustling with nerves and excitement. Her steps falter in the sand, almost making me crash into her back from her sudden halt.
Squinting up and attempting to look through the sun’s blinding beams, Mom is standing in the open doorway, looking down at Lily like she’s seeing a ghost from her past.
“What on earth? Am I dreaming?”
Sea salt in the air, a warm breeze on my face, the Greek flag waving through the wind, and my mother’s comforting voice—I’m so happy to be home.
Lily, in her white summer dress, who looks more like a goddess, takes a small step forward, and a smile graces her face when she spots Mom. “Long time no see, Mrs. Drakos.”
Mom trembles at her words, rushing down the tiled steps with tears streaming down her face. Lily falls into her arms.
