“I’m sorry,” I whisper as his teeth clatter against my bottom lip, our joining painful and messy and beautiful and soft all at once.
His hands grip my hips, forcing me to the edge of the bench and flushing our bodies together. I moan as his hard length presses against me. “Don’t be,” he murmurs into my mouth before dragging it along my jaw and down my collarbone. “Everything happened the way it did so we could end up here, Elena,” he says into my skin, kissing every place his mouth canreach. “We were meant to be together back then. We’re meant to be together now.”
“If you were to name it after us now, what would it be called?”
He suddenly pulls back, gazing down at me with fervent eyes. “Ultraviolet.”
Time seems to suspend itself, like this moment is of some grander significance that a higher power wants us to be aware of. I’m only capable of answering by surging forward, grasping his neck, and hauling his mouth to mine, kissing him with everything in me.
He moans as I writhe against his body, whispering, “And I’m going to do exactly that. Rename this place just as soon as you open your bookstore right next door.”
“I didn’t tell you about the bookstore yet,” I say, panting.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re going through with it, Elena, and we’re going to be beside each other in the end. Just like it was always meant to be.” He pulls back and begins untucking his shirt from his trousers. “Now, I want you to lie back on that bench and take off your pants for me.”
I nod rapidly, swiftly undoing the button on my jeans, but before I can begin sliding them off my hips, a resounding “What the fuck?” echoes throughout the dimly lit room.
August and I both pause, breath catching. My eyes mirror his as they go wide at the realization that someone else is in the room with us.
He spins at the same time I sit up, peeking around his shoulder. My heart leaps into my throat when I find Everett standing at the corner of the main room and the hallway that leads to the back door. Though shadowed in darkness, I can just make out the deep set of his brows and the frown on his mouth as he crosses his tattooed arms over his chest.
“Everett, what the hell?” I ask. “Why are you standing in the shadows like a fucking creep? Have you never heard of privacy?”
“The back door is unlocked.” He steps toward us, waving his hand at the front of the shop. “And there are about a billion windows that look out onto a public fucking boardwalk where anyone walking by can look inside and see what you’re doing. Considering you two live together, I’d think if you’d like to have a private conversation, you’d do so in your own goddamn house.”
August audibly swallows as he steps beside me, and I make quick work of rebuttoning my jeans. “Well, what do you want?”
My twin’s eyes dart rapidly between August and me. “You two were together before? Before Zach died? Is that what I’m gathering?”
Fuck. My breathing hits a rapid pace as my heart thrashes against my chest, and my stomach flips with a sick feeling that must fall somewhere between guilt and shame.
“How much did you hear?” August asks.
Disappointment, betrayal, and genuine hurt all seem to war within my brother’s eyes as his gaze flashes to August beside me. “Enough.”
“There is a lot to unpack,” I admit softly. “Now probably isn’t the time, but…” I glance at August, and he nods shallowly. “We’ll tell you whatever you need to hear.”
“You’re right,” Everett’s voice is cold as stone. “Now isn’t the fucking time—because Darby’s water broke. She’s in labor.”
37
VIOLET
“YES I’M CHANGING” - TAME IMPALA
Elenaand I walk into the waiting room of the birthing center hand-in-hand, and I can’t tell if my stomach is about to fall out of my ass or spring from my throat, but I do know that the unease is bone-deep after our confrontation with Everett.
The one solace of this situation is that Darby isn’t giving birth at the same hospital my brother died in. A consequence of remaining in the same town where he passed, any emergency, no matter how small, subjects us to reliving the worst moments of our lives.
Thankfully, we haven’t had to return to that emergency room since, and Darby and Leo found a midwife at a facility a few miles inland to have their baby. The waiting room here is serene and calm rather than sterile and cold. A fountain runs quietly in the corner of the room, and soft instrumental music strums through the speakers. The seats are plush and comfortable, and there is a large bookcase on the far wall filled with various titles, while the room is warmly lit by standing lamps rather than the blinding fluorescents of a hospital.
Any tranquility the space works to create vanishes when we find the only empty chairs in the waiting area are directly across from Everett, Lou, and Carlos, and beside Monica. Everett leftmy shop without another word after he informed us Darby’s water broke. She’s been at home for the last few days after she began showing signs of early labor, so we knew it was coming. Elena and I immediately finished locking up the place before hopping in my car and heading down to the birthing center, and we’re still the last to arrive.
I take a deep breath, and she squeezes my hand as we sit down with her family. Elena takes the chair next to Monica, and I sit at the end of the row, directly across from Everett. He eyes me with quiet accusation before shifting his gaze to his daughter as she shows him something on the iPad in her lap.
The way his face brightens when he looks at her is a stark contrast to the darkness he shot in my direction. He has every right to be upset with us, and I wish the information had come out differently.
“Hi, Mama,” I whisper to Monica, who beams back at me with the same expression Everett offers Lou—a gripping reassurance. “What’s the status?”
