His eyes—wild, confused, still wet with panic find mine for a brief, scary second.
And when I reach for him, just a hand, just a slight touch, he flinches hard, and a panicked noise tears from him, like I burnedhim, jerking away from me so violently that my own hand recoils on instinct.
My stomach drops, and Something inside me twists.
Then, as if his mind finally catches up, he realizes it was me he recoiled from—
His expression crumples.
A look of sheer regret, of guilt so raw it makes my chest ache, flickers across his face.
And then he breaks.
A sob leaves him, it’s guttural and sharp, like it was ripped straight out of him.
“Lucas—” I start again, softer this time, almost a whisper.
But he doesn’t look at me.
He turns into Tyler instead, curls into him like he’s trying to disappear, bury himself somewhere safer than this moment as the sobs shake through him.
Real sobs.
Deep and soul-twisting ones. The kind that comes from something too heavy to name.
Tyler pulls him in like muscle memory. Like he’s done this before.
He cradles and rocks him slowly, whispering something I can’t hear over the sound of him breaking.
Something comforting. Something that sounds like home.
I’ve seen blood. Screams. Death. I’ve made people cry in pain and watched without flinching.
But this—
This is the first time I’ve felt helpless and useless.
This is the first time I’ve seen Lucas shattered like this, and I didn’t even know he could shatter this way.
“Alex,” Tyler says softly, voice barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears. “Please, can you give us a little time alone?”
My gaze moves to him, and I see him watching me with a sympathetic and apologetic look on his face. His arms are still wrapped around Lucas. My Lucas. Who is still shaking quietly, violently, his face buried so deep in Tyler’s chest, it’s like he’s trying not to see me.
My hands clench into fists. I feel it, the bitter taste of it rising in my throat.
Guilt. Rage. Something feral.
But I nod—a sharp, jerky movement. I don’t trust myself to speak. I can’t. I might crumble if I do.
I turn and walk out. The second the door clicks shut behind me, the weight of it all caves in.
What the fuck happened?
I storm into my room, and the air feels too thick. My skin itches, my clothes feel like they’re strangling me. I rip off my shirt, shove down my slacks like they’re made of Thorns.
He was fine this morning, wrapping up Tyler’s gift with a smile on his face. He had kissed me deeply and said, “See you tonight,” with that shy smile of his.
My jaw tightens until it aches. My knuckles slam into the side of my dresser with a crack that echoes through the room.
