When I knocked on the door to his home, it took a few moments before Cass answered.
"Quentin? Gods, what are you doing here?" Cass asked, surprised.
"Who is it, sweetheart?" Sophie appeared behind him, and her eyes widened. "Quentin!"
"Come in, duck.”
They moved into the house, and I walked in with my rucksack that I'd stuffed with some clothes and my laptop before I left. A few essentials. I had no clue if I was staying for two days or two weeks.
"Why didn't you say you were coming over?" Cass pulled me into a hug, and I clung to him. "Quen?"
"I'll make some coffee," Sophie muttered.
Cass rubbed my back, and I started to cry.
When I joined the Scott family, I was ten years old, and Cass was fifteen. During the entire process, he was a ball of energy that couldn’t stop talking. The moment I was adopted, I was overwhelmed, and the first night, I had burst into tears on the bed. It was Cass who found me and took me to the kitchen for a glass of water. Cass, who kept looking out for me from that point onwards. Cass, who became my brother without sharing a single drop of blood.
"Come on, duck. Tell me what's wrong?"
I choked out a laugh at the sound of the old nickname. I used to be obsessed with the ducks at the park when I joined the family. It was one of the first trips we took as the official Scott family four.
"I don't know what I'm doing with my life," I said, pulling back.
Cass laughed. "Are you kidding me? You've always known what you're doing. Come and sit down."
He guided me over to the couch. It was getting late, but he didn't seem to mind.
"I think I've messed up," I said.
Cass looked concerned. I’d never been into partying. Never touched a drug. Too much of a loner to fall into the bad crowd. Even when I went to uni and our lives were ripped apart by the train accident, Ethan had kept my head straight.
"What's happened, duck?"
I spent the rest of the night telling Cass and Sophie everything. The whole truth of it. I told them who Gray was. How we weren't dating when they came to visit. About Matthew and about how it'd all crashed down around me in the last few hours.
I needed help, and I trusted my brother.
I was itching to head back down and see Quentin. We hadn't parted on the best of terms, but Sloan’s question and the events leading up to Holden’s tantrum had me thinking.
Quentin chose me. She spent time with me, even if I couldn't guarantee her a relationship. She called me selfish, but there was a reason behind it that I didn’t want to admit. But she chose me and that meant I owed her an explanation about what laid between us. I owed her the truth.
"You're going to tell her," Erik said, appearing right next to me.
Everyone had arrived back at the institute and Archer lingered, smirking at us both, before disappearing with the rest. What I’d have given to knock the look off his face. What was the bastard so smug about? Every nerve in my body told me he was planning something, but it slipped low on my priority list.
"Yes," I said curtly, answering Erik. "I want to tell her we're bound."
Erik's smile was so wide I worried he'd hurt himself.
"Gray!" he exclaimed before I hushed him. "Does that mean you've thought about telling her the rest?"
"Let's take it one step at a time."
Just because I couldn't have a relationship with her didn't mean I didn't want one. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it could be feasible. She could claim her divinity and join us. It would make things easier. We’d have an eternity with each other. The thought was dizzying.
"Do you love her, Gray?" Erik's question was blunt, and he was grinning at me. He looked like a child, and I felt the blush creep up my neck.
Love and affection were two emotions I’d been starved of. Lust and desire; I was well acquainted with. That was how it started between me and Quen. A simple, undeniable chemistry. But the metamorphosis of our relationship had left me confused. Most of the time, I didn’t know what my heart was doing or why. For the first time in my life, I was completely uncertain of what my future held.
