“They are not my parents.”
Aaron senses my harsh tone and looks away, nodding. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
Might be too late to pull back my little rage demon.
“What’s gotten into me? What about you? Jumping at the first opportunity to play nurse for Dominik.” Aaron’s voice reverberates, and it’s not the chilly air but his voice that sends shivers down my spine.
“Why does it bother you so much?” I bellow, shoving my hands into the air. The accusation and sudden shift in conversation from our parents make me see red.
Aaron takes two steps toward me, his jaw ticking as he fights to tame his own beast. From a young age, we’ve shared a temper that no one else has truly understood except for us. A silent recognition that exists between us.
“Because he’s going to hurt you. And when he does, I’ll have to clean up the mess like I always do. I will not stand around and watch my friend hurt you. He thinks with his dick, and you deserve so much more than that.”
“Will you just stop, Aaron? You don’t need to protect me anymore. I’m not some broken little girl who needs shelter from the big, bad world. Those days are over, and it should have never been your responsibility in the first place.”
“This has nothing to do with our childhood!”
I stare back at him, watching as his control slowly slips. I wonder how long he’s been waiting to blow up at me for this. How long he’s been wondering if there is something going on between me and Dom. How much of it is driven by protection versus jealousy? Maybe a bit of resentment too, because he thinks I’m taking his best friend away from him?
No, don’t think that way, or you’ll lose him too.
He’s already gone.
“Doesn’t it? Don’t you hate me a little for being the discarded piece of trash you always had to deal with?”
Aaron steps forward and takes my hand in his. “No, Zoe. Never. Don’t talk like that. I’ve always only wanted to protect you.”
Up close, with him open and exposed like this, it’s obvious the anger on his face is merely a mask for all the weight he’s been carrying. He looks so fragile right now, reminding me of the seven-year-old boy who tried so hard to save our broken family but never could. His love was never enough because he could never fill my parents’ shoes. Maybe that’s why he does everything in his power to be in charge. Because he couldn’t change the one thing that was supposed to come naturally. He couldn’t give me unconditional love from the two people who were meant to drown me in it. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn’t make them see, and some fucked up part of himblames himself for it. Even though he had no part to play in any of it. Even though he’s the only reason I’m here today.
The weight of being my protector shouldn’t have been his to carry. He was never meant to attempt to fill my mother’s and father’s shoes, but he tried so hard. He was always there for me, always picking up the pieces, even though he was just a child too. I should have realized it, but I was too consumed by my own darkness to see it.
“Aaron,” I say, my chin quivering.
“I’m sorry I let them hurt you, Zoe. I’m sorry I forgot about you when they showed up here. I panicked, and I hate myself for it more than you can imagine, okay? I hate myself for so many things. For all the ways I didn’t save you. Please let me fix it. Let me make it up to you.” His voice cracks, and just hearing it causes the tears to burst free.
“Aaron,” I repeat, reaching up and gripping his cheeks with both of my hands, urging him to stop for a moment and just look at me. He looks down at the ground and inhales deeply. “I don’t care about them. I care about you, and I want you to know that I’m okay. Better than okay. We made it out of that house, and I’m so much stronger for it.”
“You shouldn’t have to be strong, Zoe.”
“Hey, look at me,” I press, but he refuses. So I grab his chin and force his eyes to mine. “It’s in the past. And I’m learning so much about myself these days. I don’t want you to worry about me anymore. I want us to go back to being friends and family. Close family, like we used to be. Can we do that?”
Aaron’s expression softens. “We never stopped.”
“But we did. You’re never around, and we barely talk.”
He closes his eyes as a pained expression washes across his face. “I know. But that’s all about to change. I promise.”
“Good.” I smile, feeling months of heavy tension finally beginning to lift from my chest.
Aaron pauses for a long time, watching me carefully, as if he’s struggling with some internal thought. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth.”
I nod, holding my breath.
“Do you love him?”
“What?”
