But these letters…If they really had been left by Flix, what did they mean? Had Ani been wrong about him all of this time? Had he tried to get in touch? If so, why hadn’t he said anything yesterday?
“I thought,” Gannon broke the silence first, “with enough time, you’d get over him, but that isn’t going to happen either, is it? You’re never going to be able to break free from the hold he has over you, no matter how many times he proves he isn’t worthy of your love.”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t insult me, Aneski,” Gan said. “This is hard enough already without you doing that.”
“Shouldn’t I be the angry one here?” He shook the letters. “You stole these and kept them from me for almost three years! Who does that?!”
“I just didn’t want—”
“What if he never intended to leave me at all?” Aneski snapped. “What if these,” he shook them again, this time more vigorously, “prove that? What if all you’ve really done is kept the two of us apart all these years for your own selfish gains?”
Gannon snorted, but it was obvious the words had hit home, and he was feeling as shitty as Ani currently did. “You’re delusional if you truly think Flix would write you love letters and not follow through if he didn’t get a response.”
Aneski dropped his arm to his side, the letters heavy in his hand. That was undeniably true. If these were a confession, Flix wouldn’t have stayed away. He would have broken down the door of Ani’s apartment, demanding a response.
“What if it’s answers then?” he asked.
“Didn’t you say you trust that he didn’t do it?” Gannon pointed out and regrettably nodded. “Well, I don’t think he did either.”
“You said—”
“I could be wrong,” he said. “Maybe we’re all deluded by the Devil, but I remember seeing him and Russ together, too. I was also there. They seemed legitimately close. If you ask anyone who knows him, the first thing people say about Flix is he’s loyal.”
“So,” none of this was adding up for Ani, “if you don’t think these are love letters and you don’t think they’re a confession why hide them?”
“Because they could still be an explanation,” Gannon replied, “and you were already a wreck. You didn’t need him coming in here trying to mess with your mind. You needed to grieve and move on.”
Aneski laughed bitterly and motioned to where they were standing. “You call this moving on?!”
“This was revenge against Haroon! And we knew for a fact that bastard deserved it. Russ and you may not have been the best brothers, but he cared for you. He would have wanted you to have his legacy, not Haroon, some two-faced prick who couldn’t even bother to show up for his funeral.”
Haroon hadn’t. His brother’s supposed best friend hadn’t even given his condolences until two weeks later when he’d accidentally run into Ani at the grocery store.
That’d been the moment it had all clicked together for him. The moment Aneski had taken a good look in the mirrorand realized he was wasting his energy crying over Russ and Flix while doing nothing about it.
He’d shown up at the clubhouse the next day and asked to join. Without Russ there to stop him, it’d been easy.
“You had no right to make that call for me,” Ani said, dropping back onto the couch. He placed the letters on the coffee table. “Get out.”
“Aneski—”
He held up a hand. “I can’t even look at you right now. Just go before I do or say something I can’t take back.” He was furious and hurt right now, but Gannon had been his friend for over a decade and Ani didn’t want to throw that all away without all the facts.
He’d read the letters first, and then, depending on what they said, he’d figure out how he and Gannon could move forward. Or if that were even a possibility.
Seeming to realize that, Gannon headed for the front door without another word, the sound of his hoverbike roaring to life a moment later before it sped away.
Ani had no clue how long he sat there, staring at the bundle of letters before he finally gathered enough courage to untie the shoelace. The paper of the first one felt rough against his fingers as he lifted it and reached for the sealed flap on the back. With one last deep inhale, he tore it open and pulled out the single sheet of paper within.
And felt the universe alter around him yet again.
Chapter 11:
Flix spotted him across the diner as soon as they entered, patting Berga on the back before he left their group and headed over. It was pretty early in the morning, and he could tell from the bags beneath the younger guy’s eyes that he must not have gotten much sleep.
“What’s up, Tiny Terror?” He dropped onto the other seat, the faded and cracked red leather squeaking beneath his weight. The corner booth was small, made for four people at most if they didn’t mind cramping in together. There was a single half-finished pink milkshake on the table, and he slid it over and took a drag from the neon yellow straw.
