“We gathered that.” Misha nods, “But what about it?”
“August hates it, but he feels obligated. His wife is going to leave him over it, and I’ve been trying to give him a way out, but he won’t take it. Abigail and I made a whole plan of bringing them to the States, but he doesn’t want to break with our parents because he thinks they will make their lives hell. This… this engagement to Daniel, it’s the only way I can see to help August escape this fate. If I marry Daniel, he could take over the firm, and August could go back to his old life.”
“The hell you will,” Grey exclaims as he knocks on the wood. “Princess, come on, open the door.”
Misha’s arms tighten around me. “We’re not going to let you sacrifice yourself for him,” he says firmly, his breath warm against my hair.
I lean into Misha, feeling torn between my love for my brother and my own dreams. “But what if August doesn’t want to come to the States?” I say, my voice cracking. “And when he doesn’t want to cut ties with our parents, the engagement is the only way out for him.”
“Your way may not even be guaranteed to work out how you want it to,” Misha says softly, his words hitting me hard.
I could lose everything for nothing.
Closing my eyes, I feel the sting of tears threatening to fall.
“Amelia, come on. I’m done talking to a door. I need to see that you’re okay. Let us in, baby.” Grey’s words are a mixture of concern and gentle command.
Reluctantly, I stand up on wobbly legs, and Misha follows suit. Fumbling with the lock, I finally manage to open the door. Grey and Oliver step in, and before I can even catch my breath, Grey’s strong hands are on my thighs, effortlessly lifting and pulling me close.
“Thank you, Princess.” He settles onto the fancy little couch in the corner of the big bathroom, cradling me against his chest as if I weigh nothing. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs into my hair, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me, chasing away some of the anxiety that’s been gnawing at my insides.
I catch Oliver’s gaze as he locks the door behind him.Thank you,I mouth silently, grateful for him stepping in earlier.
He responds with a sad smile that speaks volumes, and I’m once again reminded of how lucky I am to have them.
I have them.
Grey’s voice pulls me back from my thoughts, his tone gentle but carrying an undercurrent of firmness that I’ve come to associate with his protective nature. “It sounds like you need to take your own advice,” he says, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on my back.
Confusion furrows my brow as I ask, “What do you mean?” I can feel the vibration of his chuckle against my cheek as I nestle closer.
“This current decision isn’t yours to make,” Grey tells me what I told him a few weeks ago at the park. “Your brother’s able to make his own choices.”
I feel a surge of frustration bubbling up inside me. “But he doesn’t know what’s good for him.”
Grey chuckles again. “Oh well, now we know where you got it from.”
“You’re not playing fair.” I glare at him, but his words, which were originally mine, hit home, piercing through my defenses.
He starts to pet my hair soothingly, his fingers working out the tangles, and relax involuntarily.
“It’shislife,” Grey continues. “He should be able to decide how he wants to live it, even if we don’t agree with his choices.”
“But he doesn’t want to live it like that,” I protest weakly, feeling my resolve crumbling. “He feels pressured too.”
Grey’s voice remains patient as he replies, “Even then. You gave him options. He’s the one who has to take the last step. You can’t live his life for him, no matter how much you want to protect him.”
Oliver’s voice cuts through the silence that follows. “Promise me that you’re not going to marry that dickhead out of obligation,” he demands, his green eyes so intense it makes my heart stutter.
“Yeah, that would suck balls. I mean, we would totally be there to crash the wedding at thespeak now or forever hold your peacepart,” Misha quips, seemingly trying to make me smile. “But it would be such a waste of all those tiny sandwiches and big, fancy hats.”
“Idiot,” Grey mutters, but it does nothing to hide the smirk in his tone.
Grey is right.
Not only about the Misha being an idiot part, but I can’t live August’s life for him, no matter how much I want to shield him from pain. I’ve done my best to give him an alternative, but the final step has to be his. The decision to break free fromour father’s control, that’s a choice only August can make. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but one I know I need to accept.
Mulling it over, I feel a shift within myself. The burden I’ve been carrying, the responsibility I’ve shouldered for August’s happiness, begins to lift. It’s not my cross to bear. And in its place, a new feeling unfolds—hope.
