Julius stayed quiet. I hated that I kept causing this rift between them. All they had were each other before I came along, and now, I was causing this major divide.
Neither said anything else.
I guess neither had to.
Kraven backed away and abruptly left, never looking at me again. His footsteps clung heavily the farther they ricocheted down the hall and up the stairs.
I’d forever be the spark that ignited the fire of their heated flame. This wasn’t how I expected this night to go. It was like I couldn’t do anything right when it came to their relationship. Except they weren’t just friends, they were family.
Brothers.
Blood was supposed to be thicker than water, and I was proving to be the weight that tipped the scales of how far you’d go for loyalty and friendship. Julius was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I had no one else to fall back on. From the looks of it, neither did Kraven. I was taking away the only consistency they had—each other.
I had no choice but to stay there, continuing to break their bond, and that was the hardest pill to swallow. If I left, Julius would try to find me, and he’d blame Kraven for it, further escalating their issues. Leaving wouldn’t help, but staying wouldn’t either. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place too.
Julius and Kraven.
I was always the one trapped in the middle, torn between the good guy and the bad boy.
After Kraven slammed his bedroom door, jarring the walls, Julius and I locked stares.
In one simple affirmation, he stated, “You didn’t know, Isla.”
I still didn’t.
Though feeling it made it much worse.
With that, Julius went to the garbage can, pulled out the recipe book, and retrieved the pot of spaghetti. He uncovered the pot and set it on the counter, then threw the recipe book back in the trash. I watched as he served himself a plate, serving me one as well.
He handed it to me, his gaze pleading to accept. Of course I did. I’d do anything for him. I owed him that. He led the way to the dining table, and we sat beside one another.
Julius ate the first bite, confessing, “It tastes just like my mom’s.”
His voice was low, but his tone was haunting.
Instinctively, I reached for his plate, but he intercepted. Instead of letting me take away his pain, he shared it with me, one bite at a time.
I wasn’t much for affection, and being starved of it my whole life didn’t help, but at that moment, being there with him felt right. Without thinking, I stayed seated, looking in front of me, and laid my head on his shoulder.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t flinch.
Instead, he laid his head on mine too.
We stayed like that until, once again, the silence between us was comfort, not emptiness. Time stood still, holding us in place. Except the following morning, when I woke up on the couch, I didn’t expect to see the cookbook on the coffee table, left there by one of the brothers.
I asked myself…was it Julius or was it Kraven who left it there for me?
I couldn’t tell you why I thought it might have been Kraven, but it was a question I’d never be able to ask out loud.
At least not until I knew the truth without having to ask it at all.
CHAPTER
NINE
KRAVEN
