“I’m kidding,” he said, wiping his beard. “Relax.”
Ben snorted, shaking his head. “You’re an asshole.”
“Always have been,” Mikhail replied cheerfully.
Even though we laughed, at the bad humor. I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that I’d glimpsed something I wasn’t meant to.
Ben cleared his throat. “Hey,” he said, turning toward me. “I, uh… I’m sorry about Matt and Jenny.”
The words sobered me.
“They were good people.”
I nodded. “Yeah. They were.”
Mikhail stood and pulled me into another hug. “I’m sorry too,” he said, quieter now. Then he pulled back and smirked. “Though I always liked Matt more than you.”
The night moved on after that. Another round, then another, though Mikhail stopped after the first one. Conversation drifted to old teachers, dumb mistakes, half-remembered stories. I felt the edges of the world soften.
When I stood, the floor tilted just enough to make the decision for me.
“You’re not driving,” Mikhail said immediately.
“I’m fine,” I started.
“You’re not,” he cut in. “And you’re not arguing.”
He took my keys.
“I’ll drive.”
Outside, the air was cool and damp. The town felt asleep, streetlights glowing soft and yellow. I leaned against the truck while he unlocked it, watching him move with a confidence that hadn’t been there when we were kids.
The ride was quiet.
When we pulled into my parents’ driveway, Mikhail cut the engine and sat for a moment.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He clapped my shoulder once and got out. I watched him walk down the driveway, his figure tall and dark against the quiet night.
As he disappeared into the shadows, a thought came to me. He’d never really answered my question.
I stood there a long moment before going inside, the echo of laughter fading, responsibility waiting on the other side of the door.
And I knew, whatever I’d tried to escape that evening would still be there in the morning.
Chapter 18
Ethan
Morning came with a killer headache.
I hadn’t slept much. I’d come home late the night before, long after the house had gone quiet. Everyone had been asleep by then. Lily in her room, curled around her stuffed rabbit. My parents already in bed. I’d moved through the house carefully, trying not to wake anyone, too tired to do more than check that Lily was okay and pull a blanket up over her shoulders.
Now I stood in the doorway of the sunlit kitchen, rubbing my eyes, trying to shake off the heaviness in my body.
