The smile grows a little deeper, the corners of my lips tipping up. “The jokes were always more fun when you were next to me, you know.”
Her answering smile is sad. “Everything was more fun when you were next to me, Rafe.”
She turns away before I can respond. It takes me seconds to recover from the emotional hammer in my chest, seconds before I can call out to her, trying to get my thoughts in order when she rips them apart with every interaction we have. “Stasi.”
She turns. “Yes?”
“We have someone coming for dinner,” I say softly, holding her eyes. “A business associate. There are some things that we need to discuss with him. But… I would stay in your room tonight. I don’t want him to see you.”
Her eyes shutter, and I wonder if she understands my meaning as she turns away, her tone subdued. “All right.”
Maybe she thinks I’m ashamed of her. But I miss the chance to tell her otherwise, as the bathroom door closes.
Besides. How could I possibly explain the feelings in my chest to her, when I don’t understand them myself?
32 – Stasi
Ellen shoos me out of the kitchen before I’ve even finished eating. “Go on, now. Off to bed.”
I glance at the clock. “But I haven’t cleaned up yet.”
But she shakes her head. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean up this evening. Rafe was very clear. Stay there until the morning.”
I bet he was.
But the jab doesn’t feel as good as it would have even this morning. Not after sitting with him, listening to him. After sharing my side with him.
And now… now they all know the truth.Ourtruth, at least. My throat tightens as I head into my room, gently pushing the door closed before taking a seat on the edge of my bed.
They all know. And yet I feel like I don’t know anything, anymore.
The Tate brothers have me tied up in knots, all over again. Just like they did when I was fifteen. And this time, things are… even more difficult. If that’s possible.
I’m theirprisoner. Their responsibility.
And they seem intent on breaking me open, one by one. Chipping little parts of me away, piece by piece, taking them and putting them under a microscope.
They are making me feelseen.
They’re the only ones who ever did.
I thought the men I knew were gone. But the longer I spend here, the more I see them. Flashes, hints, hidden beneath the hurt and anger butthere, even if they have changed.
And I can’t judge them for changing, for not being those boys anymore.
It happens to us all. Everybody changes. We are all the sum of our experiences. Layer after layer that builds up over time. Only fate decides which experiences will begood.
And so often, the experiences that shape us the most are not good at all.
I lay there for hours, blinking at the ceiling.
Trying not to think about them. And failing.
Finally, I sit up. My bladder is shouting at me, and I glance towards the door.
Rafe wouldn’t have meant for me not to go to the bathroom. As long as I don’t wander into the dining room, it’ll be fine.
I still feel like I’m doing something wrong as I ease the door open and poke my head out. The hall is clear, and I slip out and down into the bathroom without an issue.
