But I don’t know if I’ve messed that up by pushing them away since we got back.
God, why do I always sabotage myself?
Oliver’s brow furrows when he sees me blinking rapidly, trying to hold back tears.
Stanleys don’t cry.
“My Fave,” he whispers before pulling me into a tight hug. The scent of clean laundry and strawberry Chapstick envelops me, so familiar and comforting that emotions bubble up inside, threatening to overflow as I grip the fabric of his shirt. I bury my face in his chest, trying to hide from the world.
Fuck being a Stanley.
And just like that, the tears start to fall.
“Come on, let’s get you inside.” Oliver lets go of me to grab my hand and pull me inside.
Grey and Misha, who were sitting on the couch, stand immediately when they see me, concern etched on their faces as they come to stand beside us.
“What happened?” Grey asks, his eyes scanning me for any sign of injury.
They’re going to think I’m completely mental.
I pull away from Oliver, looking down at my feet, suddenly feeling foolish. Taking off my glasses to brush my tears away with the sleeve of my hoodie, I deflect. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Jet lag,” Misha says, reaching out to stroke my upper arm. “We still have some leftover spaghetti if you’re hungry.”
Oliver shakes his head, a hint of exasperation in his expression as he questions, “Does she look like she’s hungry?”
Misha shrugs. “Food helps when I’m sad.”
Grey moves forward, pulling me out from between them and guiding me to the couch. He sits me down next to him and grabs my face between both hands, stroking my cheek with his thumbs. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “Talk to us, Princess. What’s really going on?”
“I-I don’t… know,” I stammer, feeling small under his scrutiny. “There was a sound, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. It’s silly, really.”
Grey’s eyes narrow. “You’re still scared of being alone in your apartment, which is understandable. But why were you pushing us away? You don’t have to be alone ever again if you don’t want to. You can be here with us. Move in if you want. Take the spare room. Take any of our rooms.”
“I don’t know if I can trust this. You.Us.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Ah, fuck.
Grey lets go of me, looking bewildered, his brow furrowing deeply. “What are you even talking about?”
My heart races as I try to articulate the jumble of thoughts in my head. “The cameras… and I know you said… but…”
Why is this so difficult?
Mr. Donovan’s voice echoes in my mind.
“They’ve earned your forgiveness. Now they need to earn your trust. Don’t pull away.”
Oliver’s face falls when he comes to sit on my other side. “You’re worried that we’re still watching you?”
“I-I don’t know.”
Misha looks hurt. “I thought we were past this?”
Well, if I hadn’t fucked up before,I just did.
A pang of guilt pierces my chest as I look down at my hands in my lap and start to nod, unable to meet their eyes. The silence in the room is deafening.
