Page 214 of Stolen Bruises


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“Yeah,” I said quietly. “Four heirs.”

He raised his glass one last time. “To the Silverwood Heirs, then.”

I smirked, tapping mine to his. “The golden boys and the assholes.”

Life sucked.

It just did.

People leave, promises break, and sometimes you ruin the one thing that made you feel human again.

But sitting here, trading insults and sarcasm with Alex?

It made it suck a little less.

Maybe that’s what brothers were for: the people who know you’re losing your mind but act like everything’s normal, anyway.

He finally looked up and caught me staring. “What?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. Just thinking about how you’re still ugly after all these years.”

He grinned. “Yeah, and yet I still pull more than you do. Mister Twenty But Still a Virgin.”

I laughed, standing up as he threw a few bills on the table. “Let’s get out of here before your ego breaks the glass.”

He laughed, bumping his shoulder against mine as we walked out.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Aurora

Five weeks.

Five whole weeks.

And somehow, it still hurt the same.

Every morning I woke up, my eyes stinging before I even opened them, swollen, heavy, tired.

I used to think heartbreak was a metaphor; you know? Something people exaggerated to make love sound poetic. But no. It’s real. It’s physical. It sits in your chest like a weight pressing down every time you try to breathe normally.

It had been thirty-five days since Joshua told me he didn’t want to see my face again. Thirty-five mornings I’d opened my eyes and, stupidly, waited.

Waited for a knock on the door.

For my phone to light up.

For anything.

But silence is loyal. It never forgets to show up. And I hated how I still looked for him in crowds. I hated that my feet still led me to the field every now and then. That I still listened for that low voice calling my name, even though I knew it was never coming again.

Aly’s voice cut my train of thought as she propped herself up on the bed. “Okay, serious business. Food.”

I glanced up at her.

She smirked. “Don’t even think about arguing. I know your favourite already.”

“You do?”