There’s a silence after that, thick and heavy, but it feels different this time. Not as suffocating. It feels like we’re all finally on the same page, even if they’re not happy about it.
Jacob runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. “If that’s what you want…”
“It is,” I say firmly. “I’ve already moved on from him. He’s not worth another second of my time.”
Ford lets out a slow breath, his hands running up and down my arms in a soothing motion. “We’ll follow your lead, Dylan. But if he ever comes near you again—”
“He won’t,” I say quickly, cutting him off. “And if he does, I’ll handle it. With you. But for now, I just want to forget I ever saw him.”
Jacob crosses the room in a few quick strides, kneeling in front of me. His hands shake as he cups my face, his thumbs brushing softly across my cheeks. “You don’t have to forget,” he whispers, his voice low and tender. “But you don’t have to carry this alone anymore, either.”
I close my eyes for a second, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hands chase away the lingering chill that’s been sitting in my bones ever since I saw Brock at the game. Jacob’s right. I don’t have to carry this alone. I have them now, all three of them. And maybe that’s what scares me the most—the fact that I’m not used to being supported like this. I’m used to being the one who has to hold everything together, pretending likenothing hurts because no one’s there to catch me if I fall. But now… now I have them.
“I know,” I whisper back, opening my eyes to meet his. “And I’m so lucky to have you guys.”
“You’re not lucky,” Ford says from the couch, his voice softer now, but still filled with that intensity I’ve come to expect from him. “You deserve this. You deserve everything good.”
I smile at him, feeling the tight knot in my chest loosen. “Thank you. All of you.”
Matthew presses a kiss to the back of my neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “We love you, Dylan. And whatever you need, we’re here.”
“I know,” I say again, this time more certain, more grounded. “And I love you. All of you.”
Jacob’s hands fall from my face, but he doesn’t move from his spot in front of me. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“If you ever feel like it’s too much, if you ever feel like you need to talk about it, or if he ever comes back into your life in any way—you’ll tell us. Don’t try to handle it on your own.”
“I promise,” I say, and I mean it. I don’t have to do this alone anymore.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like I can finally breathe. Brock might be part of my past, but he’s not my future. My future is here, with them, and I’m not going to let anything—or anyone—take that away from me.
I lean back into Matthew’s chest, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, feeling their presence around me, solid and sure. This is where I belong. This is where I’m safe. And no one, not even Brock Johnson, can take that away from me.
I didn’t come all this way for him to fuck it up now.
And he won’t.
Chapter 46
Matthew
Igrip my phone, staring at the screen like it holds all the answers. But there are no answers. Not yet. Just questions. A million fucking questions that won’t leave me alone. My thumb hovers over my dad’s name in my contacts, and I hesitate. I don’t know if I even want to hear what he has to say, but I need to. I need to know the truth.
Dylan’s words still echo in my head, that calm, steady way she told us about Brock, about what happened. She said she didn’t want to press charges, didn’t want to drag it out. She wants to move on. And I get it. I do. But the thought of her going through that alone, of her facing him today, looking him in the eyes after all this time… it makes me sick.
I hit the call button, and it feels like the longest five seconds of my life before I hear the click on the other end.
“Matthew?” My dad’s voice is gruff, like he’s been busy with something, but I don’t care. I don’t even know how to ease into this conversation. I’m too angry. Too fucking lost.
“Dad, did you know about Brock and Dylan?” I ask, my voice rough, like it’s coming from somewhere deep in my chest.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and I can hear him shift in his chair, like he’s getting ready for a serious talk. “What do you mean, ‘did I know?’”
I run a hand through my hair, gripping it tight as if that’ll keep me grounded. “Did you know he assaulted her? Did you know about any of it? I need to know if Holly knew.”
“Assault?” Dad’s voice sharpens. “Matthew, I didn’t know. What the hell are you talking about?”
