I’m too weak to fight back. And even if I weren’t… I don’t think I would.
I love him too much.
“I can explain,” I whisper, the words trembling out of me as the pain pulses behind my eyes.
“First, let’s get something straight,” he hisses, his breath hot and sharp, a mist of spit hitting my cheek. “I don’t give a fuck about Meera. She destroyed not one, but two fucking families, Noah.Two.And if what you’re telling me is true, if she really is your sister, then I don’t give a fuck about you either.”
With one final shove, he lets go of me, and I fall to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
In an instant, I’m not twenty-seven anymore. I’m five again—small, helpless, terrified.
“Alex,”I sob, clutching at the neckline of my shirt and stretching it toward my shoulder, as if exposing my pain might somehow make him stay. “Don’t leave me.”
Tears blur my vision, but I can still see the curve of his back as he turns away. He won’t even look at me.
And that—more than the shove, more than the words—is what finally breaks me.
I push aside my bangs and wipe my eyes with the back of my wrists. I’m trembling so much, I almost miss my face altogether.
“I can explain.” My voice wavers, small and broken. “And if you still want to leave, then I promise I’ll let you go. Just… please don’t leave me alone in the rain. I won’t survive the storm this time.”
I sniffle, wiping my nose with the heel of my hand as a hiccup jolts through my chest.
He pivots, looking down at my slumped form sprawled across the floor. I know what he sees—not a man, but a pitiful boy. And maybe… a part of me hopes he does.
Still that little boy, desperate to be in his brother’s arms. Desperate to be loved. To be saved.
A sob catches in my throat and shudders out of me before I can stop it. I try to wrestle my emotions back into silence, but they’re already gone—wild, loud, and merciless.
My whole body shakes as he bends down and gently pulls me upright, pressing my back against the wall. I don’t resist. I can’t.
Like a ragdoll, my head drops forward, landing in the warm hollow of his neck. And there—there, I let it all go.
I soak his shirt, his skin, as his hands tighten around my trembling shoulders. I cry for the brother I was promised but never had. I cry for every dream he lived inside—and every day I lived without him. For the family who came for me… but never arrived. For all the times I danced alone—except in my dreams, where he held me close and we danced until morning yawned and pried me from his arms.
But I never stopped dancing.
Never stopped hoping.
Never stopped believing that one day he would step out of my dreams—and into my life.
And now that he has, I refuse to let him go.
Gently, he takes my hands and wraps them around his waist, then draws his own arms around my back, holding me tight—so tight I can barely breathe.
But I don’t care.
If this is my last breath, I’ll gladly take it here, in his arms.
“Shh,” he coos, cupping the back of my head and pressing my face tighter into the crook of his neck, trapping my tears. “That was just… a lot.” He sighs, taking the longest breath ever before pulling himself together again. “Let’s get you inside and draw you a bath. But then you’ve got some explaining to do. Alright?”
“O-Okay.” I hiccup, letting him guide me gently to my feet.
I shiver when he opens the door to my apartment. The air feels… different. Off. Like something’s shifted. Like something’swrong.
“Where’s your tub?” he asks, voice still soft, but slightly more clipped. “Bedroom or hallway?”
I swallow. I haven’t even told him the worst of it yet.
