“He’s okay, right?”
Micro sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Gone.”
Gone? What the fuck?
“What the fuck do you mean by ‘gone’?!”
“Thought you were supposed to be smart, love,” one of the others said, appearing at Micro’s side to glare at me too. Everyone seemed borderline hostile with me, and I’d hadenough of it. I shoved past them, running to Rocket’s room. There was no way he’d just…
As soon as I threw the door open, I could see it. Nixie’s corner was still cordoned off, but her bed and dishes were gone, and when I checked his drawers, I could see many of his clothes were gone too. The worst part though, the part that sent a chill down my spine, because it was so clear, so fucking outstandingly wrong… his cut, laying on the bed, placed with care and respect, but discarded.Abandoned. Like me.
I dropped down on the bed beside the cut and cradled my injured hand in the other, my mind racing over everything that’d happened. Everything that led to this moment. Everything I did wrong. This was my fault. I caused this.
“What happened, love?”
Micro was leaning against the wall, watching me as I lost all hope in this desolate room that was once full of warm, fun loving energy. And love. I’d felt the love, even if I hadn’t let myself believe it until he came out with it.
I sighed, watching him close the door and move over to sit on the other side of the cut, one hand resting on it with reverence.
“I don’t know where to start,” I finally admitted, because was it just today? Was there more going on than just me fucking with his feelings? Why didn’t I just tell him how I was feeling? Why didn’t I just admit that I was feeling the love too, but too afraid to admit it. To afraid to believe in it.
“You gotta give me something, V, because we lost a brother today. A man we loved like family. He was… he was broken when he left. He was lacking anything resembling hope. Was it you? Did you do that to him?”
It sounded like an accusation, and it was exactly what I deserved. I was the one who broke him, wasn't I?
“I really hope not, but… he walked in on my ex husband trying to win me back. I think he assumed I was agreeing with him.” I huffed at myself, because I knew exactly why he thought that.
“I was being sarcastic, but I don’t think he realised it. I don’t know why that bastard turned up today, but he ruined everything.”
“Did he?” Micro asked quietly, still glaring daggers into me.
“No,” I admitted, “that’s on me. We’re both running from past heartbreak. I was worried we were moving too fast. I mean, hell, we’re trying to-”
I cut off my words, but one look at Micro told me he wasn’t going to accept that.
“Trying to?”
I stared at my braced wrist. “For a baby. We were trying for a baby.”
Micro groaned, dragging a hand over his hair, the other one still firmly resting on that cut, as if he thought keeping that connection would keep Rocket with us somehow.
“He ever tell you about his past?”
I nodded, then frowned. “I think so. A little at least.”
Micro scratched his jaw, staring at Nixie’s empty little corner.
“The woman he was with, the woman who broke his heart? She also faked a pregnancy to try and trap him.”
Oh. My. God. How could he not tell me that? Suddenly so many things were falling into place. Things were making sense that previously seemed innocuous. His willingness to try… was it born of wanting and losing that very thing?
“Why didn’t he tell me that?”
Micro shrugged, smoothing a hand idly over the embroidered phoenix on the back of Rocket’s cut. I’d never really taken the time to examine their logo before, but now, with it facing me, with it showing me what I was losing, it felt like it was too late to realise how beautiful it was.
“He came here for a new start. An escape from everything that happened with her. Jesus…” he practically facepalmed, “and then he was faced with me and Sophie, showing off our new fucking family this morning.”
