Lyon

 

 

I felt her slide out of bed hours ago, and despite the need surging in me to go to her and bring her back, I just stay where I am and silently watch from between my lashes as she stares out through the night, her profile turned just so and catching the moonlight.

It halos her head, the white mass of straight tresses gleaming and sparkling. I shouldn’t be anywhere near her right now, and trust me, I tried to stay away. I really did, but after hour two in my room, pacing like a caged animal, I couldn’t stay away a minute longer.

Not that I had a right to come in here, but I needed to. I miss Leila so much I don’t know how I have lived without her for this long. Eight years. Eight miserable, lonely years have passed, and not one day went by when I didn’t think about her.

It’s not easy walking away from the only person tethering you to the ground at a time when it felt like my sanity was a foregone conclusion, but I did it because when Bear and Wolf came to me, I knew the life I was about to embark on had no place in it for her.

She wouldn’t be safe, and besides, I was filled so full of hate I was terrified that I couldn’t love anymore. It was hard, harder than anything I have ever had to do, then or since, but I did it because I believed that she was better off.

After Sparrow died, I clung to Leila, her soft body the only reprieve I had from the grief and the gut-eating guilt I felt for not answering my phone the day before she died.

I missed her call by ten minutes at most and didn’t call back because I was late to fetch Leila from the hospital and I had a class to get to. To this day, I still wonder what would have happened if I’d called back.

Maybe we could have made plans to meet up and she wouldn’t have gone out with that Harrison kid. Maybe she would have anyway and was only calling to complain about Mom again.

I don’t know, but it was crippling to think of after we got the call and they told us Sparrow was gone.

Leila was there for me through it all, only leaving me when Mika got so bad the doctors said they should prepare for the worst. That too was not easy because I wanted to be with her, there for her, but I was also resentful that I couldn’t have all of her when I was falling apart.

Sparrow was not just my sister. She was my best friend. We partied together, grew up together, shared secrets, and snuck whiskey in the treehouse together when we were teens.

And then she was just gone, as if she never existed. I couldn’t deal with it, and the drinking, well, it helped a little, so I used it to numb the pain. Wolf was not in a good place then. I think he suffered a lot because he had to identify Sparrow’s body and the sight was too much for him.

He shut down, just going through the motions, keeping us all together, waiting for Bear to come home. The business went bust around a month after that, and things got really bad.

We still had some savings, but that was hardly enough to keep us solvent for long, and then it became obvious that we had to leave the apartment and school.

Not that I cared. Mom and Pop were broken, so complaining about losing material things was not gonna happen. Before it got that bad though, I already knew I couldn’t stay with Leila.

I was fast-tracking myself towards being a drunk, and she was falling apart, worrying about me and Mika and still trying to juggle school.

I don’t hate myself for leaving her. It was the right choice at the time in the state I was in. I do hate myself for hurting her though and being such a coward I had to get faced to do it.

Admittedly, I do not remember everything that I said to her or even everything she said to me. I remember the tears she cried though and the absolutely stark look in her eyes when she gave up trying to get through to me and walked away.

I drank more after that, so let’s not forget that everything around me was also going to shit. Dad was a lush. I drank. He DRANK. Mom was in bed most days, bombed off sleeping pills, and Hawk and Lynx just shut down completely.

Wolf was all that kept us fed—and in booze—and by the time Bear got back, we’d lost the house we lived in all our lives and had to go into a motel. I didn’t care and would have kept being a prick until Bear grabbed me and made some things pretty clear.

We were involved in a vendetta, and there was no place in his plans for a drunk. So, I quit right then and there, and once I’d sobered up, it was worse.

I missed Leila something fierce, and the grief I hadn’t worked through was clawing at my insides. But I got things done, and a year later, two years later, every day after that, I got shit done.

I don’t fool myself that I did any of this though. That’s all Bear and Wolf, but I was a part of it, and until the day I die, I will smile for the things we did to the men who killed Sparrow.

I don’t care if some Christian zealot says I’m a murderer. I did what I had to do, an eye for an eye, of sorts, and I sleep just fine at night.

The only thing that never left me, that I never got over, was Leila. That is more than understandable because, Leila, she was mine. The one. Everything.

And yeah, I didn’t go a day without thinking about her. I even went to her graduation and cried when I saw Mika up on stage with her, smiling and looking alive, if not healthy.

After that, I walked, because I knew if I didn’t, I would eventually tell myself a hundred reasons why I can have her when there were a million why I couldn’t.

But I never forgot her. It took two years before I could even look at another woman and feel anything. Not love. Never. But I respect all women, and I got to the point that I needed to move on.

The first time I did it, I saw Leila’s face the whole time. And cried like a bitch afterward. The second was a little easier, and by the third, I was able to detach and just take the physical release they offered.

Never love though. I have only ever loved Leila, and I will only ever love Leila, but she has a right to reject that love after I hurt her, and I get that. It won’t change it though. From the first look, I was hers.

I’ll die seeing her face. I know it because it’s all I ever see, all I’ve seen for years.

Hawk doesn’t understand why I’ve backed off though, and Lynx is like an old bitch nagging at me to just stop being such a pansy. They don’t understand that, to me, not being with Leila is not only painful but my way of making atonement to her.

If she wants friendship, I’ll give it to her because her happiness is more important to me than my own.

“Soooo, you gonna stare at me all night, Lyon, because it’s creepy,” she says through the darkness, turning to look at me.

“Didn’t want to interrupt your thoughts, Lay,” I say, still watching her. “What’s got you thinking so deep over there?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “Everything. I was just wondering how things would have been if not for…you know.”

I do know. I hate to say it because it won’t sound fair, but Sparrow tore us all apart, and part of me was angry at her for a long time because I finally accepted that she was selfish in her love.

She thought of nothing else for months after she met Harrison, and she wouldn’t listen to reason. She went into a bad situation she knew was wrong, with a guy she must have known by then she couldn’t trust.

I read her diary, still have it, and I want to shake her like a rag doll for not listening to her instincts at the end where that boy was concerned.

Her death was senseless, partly due to her own stubbornness, and it took something from every one of us. Mom was a wreck. Pop was…

The rest of us have lost eight years avenging her, and for what? Because she fell for a boy who didn’t treat her right and was too stubborn and prideful after all our warnings to cut him loose.

And yeah, I have thought a lot about how things would have been if not for Sparrow’s death.

I would have stood by Leila through Mika’s treatments and taken care of her. I would have brought her home to meet my family and spent the next three years in school because she was there and no military career would have taken me away from her.

We would have been engaged, married, and then I would have wanted children with her because that is what we both would have wanted. It may not have been this picture-perfect life, but we would have been together, and I would have never spent eight years mourning my love.

But Leila is right too. It did happen, and there’s no sense in mourning or rehashing what may have been but never happened.

“You’d probably have dumped my ass eventually and dated the jock guys who were always after you. I’d have went to the Army, and I’d be a knucklehead with gun-loving tendencies,” I joke, making her giggle.

“You are a knucklehead with gun-loving tendencies, Lyon.”

“See? I told you. Can’t change a leopard, Lay.”

It doesn’t feel right joking about something that meant and still means so much to me. Even if Leila and I remain friends and I have to watch her get married and have kids with some other guy, I won’t ever do the same.

I date, and I screw, and I do all the things a single guy should, but if it’s not her, it’s no one. No one can take her place, and I wouldn’t want them to. It wouldn’t be fair to do that to another woman, and the truth is I wouldn’t do it because I would feel like a cheat.

“After you left, Mika got so bad I thought she was lost too,” she whispers in the dark, staring out again because she can’t look at me. “I was so scared I thought I would die with her. It took months for her to recover after the treatments finally worked.”

“I’m sorry, Lay.”

“Not your fault. Things were just messed up. When the doctors gave her the all clear, I was so happy I actually danced. Mika still laughs about that day.”

And I do too. I laugh long and hard because. as perfect as Lay is, the woman cannot dance. At all. We tried once, but I laughed so hard she hit me and threatened to leave.

“You were happy.”

She snorts, and I hear the disbelief in her tone when she turns to stare at me. I can’t see her eyes, but if I could, I know they’d be filled with sadness.

“No. I was relieved. It took a long time to be happy again. Not just because of…” She waves a hand between us. “It was difficult for my parents to recover, and then Mika wanted to go to college, and we had to find a way to give her that. Things weren’t easy. But yeah, eventually I was happy again. I always wondered though, thought about you guys and hoped you’d be okay.”

Yeah. I wish I could tell her that we were, but that would be a lie. Wolf spent years not feeling anything, Bear was obsessed with making money and killing anyone involved in any way with Sparrow’s death, and my womb mates weren’t any better.

Not that I have room to talk. I was a heavy. Muscle. A shooter and an errand boy. That was it. I worked. I played. I didn’t give a damn. That was life, and the only thing I had was my family. After Sparrow and losing Leila, it’s all I gave a damn about, and I would die for any one of them.

“You hungry?” I ask when an uncomfortable silence drags and I can’t stay still anymore.

Leila snorts and starts laughing, coming over to me to punch me playfully.

“You’re a feeder, Lyon. Damn lucky for you I am hungry. Wanna go raid Rain’s fridge for leftovers and cake?”

I do, because it’s all I can do for her and I’ll take what I can get.

“Let’s go.”

 

 

Leila

 

I’m at work and poring over paperwork that’s piled up when Rory strides in, his usually calm face pale as he shuts the door and takes a seat. He’s never come over here without calling first, and the look on his face is enough to make me tense because the last phone call we shared was not good.

Things were said that I just did not take well, and I said a few things back that I regretted the minute I said them. So, we haven’t talked in about two weeks, and I have to admit, I was trying really hard to care.

I do care about Rory, but I have a lot going on right now. My job is important to me, and five weeks of forced recovery has left things in a mess. Top it all off with needing to be with Mika, who lost her job recently and moved in with me, and well…

And the Wylders do not make things easy either. According to Hawk, who calls me daily, Lyon and Lynx are away on a job that is likely to last a few weeks and Danny is on bed rest after taking a fall in the garden.

I’m busy with all the people in my life, my job, and trying to get over some of the things that have been cropping up lately. And now Rory, who doesn’t understand that I don’t just need to physically recover but also mentally.

“Rory.”

“Before you say anything, I want to apologize for my behavior and beg you not to break up with me. I love you, Leila. You know I do, and if I hadn’t lost it, being insecure about that Lyon guy, I would have realized what an idiot I’ve been and apologized sooner. I should have been a better boyfriend and taken your feelings into account. I know that. I’m sorry.”

I’m about to launch into all the reasons we should just break up. I close my mouth and blink, not sure what the heck to say.

“Rory, look, this has all been so much to deal with, and I understand completely why you behaved the way you did, but I’m not sure I can do this with you. I have a lot to deal with emotionally, and the more you push, the more I feel boxed in.”

“I know that, and that’s why I’m here to say sorry. I should have given you space.”

Well, no, it would have been nice if he’d actually been there and shown me some care, but I don’t say that, because I feel so guilty about all of this. I shouldn’t have told him about Lyon, and it isn’t fair that I expect him to just accept a friendship with another man.

Plus, it’s not right to compare him to another guy. Before all of this, Rory and I were in a good place, and I know that if I hadn’t been taken, we’d be just fine, plodding along at a steady pace.

Is it fair of me to suddenly see everything he does as wrong? No. The truth is that, lately, I have been searching for flaws in a man who not only has stuck by me but also loves me.

So, no, I have not been fair, and with that realization, it becomes clear to me that I can’t just cut him loose. I wanted to do it because part of me was trying to be free. Just in case…

But that is not happening, Leila, so why ruin a perfectly good thing when you should be leaning on Rory and strengthening the relationship?

Shit.

“We both made mistakes, and I am not breaking up with you, okay, so don’t get upset.” Please, God.

He gets whiney and clingy when he feels less than appreciated, and I don’t have the patience to deal with it right now.

“Good. That’s good, because I was so sure we were perfect together, and I don’t want to lose you, Leila. I know things haven’t exactly been thrilling lately.”

Try never, I think uncharitably, hating myself for even thinking that way when Rory has only ever been good to me. But come on. He wears suits all the time. He doesn’t do anything adventurous with me. And he hates the clothes I’ve bought him. Hint, hint.

“Rory—”

“But I do love you, Leila! I do. You’re smart and sweet, and you’re pretty. You’re exactly right for me. And I can be right for you too. I can.”

“Rory, no, don’t, don’t say that. You are right, and any woman would be lucky to have you. Don’t short sell yourself because of the last few weeks. Look, I know we haven’t spent any time together and that it was partly my fault. I should have spent less time with the Wylder family and Meek, and made time for you. I know that. So, let’s promise to not do this anymore. I’ll make time, you make time, and we can have dinner and talk about things. How’s that?”

“Great! That is just great, Leila. And the healing…?”

“Another month or so,” I lie, feeling my skin crawl when I imagine him touching me.

It’s a result of the things that happened. I know it is, so I can’t blame Rory or the lewd way he wiggles his eyebrows. Before this, I was fine with sex. It wasn’t a huge deal, to be honest, because I just…I don’t get all worked up about it the way I once did.

Rory makes up for that in other ways though, because not only is he very smart and good at conversation, he likes to do considerate things for me like help me balance my checkbook and…and he cooks sometimes.

There, see, he’s a catch.

“Damn, that’s, uh, I’m just glad you’re okay and you’re healing.”

“Thanks, I’m still a little sore, and if I move too quickly sometimes, it feels like it might rip inside. My doctor says it’ll heal eventually, but I shouldn’t overtax my body.”

“Er, okay, well, I’m glad we had this talk and…I’ll pick you up at seven? We can go to that Italian place downtown. The one you like so much.”

I accept his kiss, the feel of his tongue in my mouth not sparking passion, but thankfully not so bad that I hit him when I feel myself tense.

I spend the next few hours catching up and groan when my stiff muscles start aching. I need coffee and candy of some kind stat if I’m gonna get through the rest of the day, and with that in mind, I call out to my assistant that I’m grabbing lunch and make my way to the little bakery down the street.

I need something fattening like yesterday, and I also need some time to think in a place that is neutral and I won’t be influenced by work or the people in my life.

Things have been weird for me since the night Lyon and I had that heart-to-heart. I wasn’t comfortable around him at all after that, and I think he knew it, because he cut his leave short and took a job in some South American hellhole the next day.

Part of the problem wasn’t just me. It was Lyon because I think, to him, things can be as they once were, and I made it really clear to him that it’s not possible.

It’s not just the whole breakup or the memories that we both have but the fact that his whole family seems to have adopted me and it’s a little too close for comfort.

We now have to spend time together, a lot of time. That doesn’t feel right, especially when I consider Rory and the relationship we had before. I won’t be that girl who latches onto one thing until another thing comes along, so I am not going to break up with the man just because Lyon is back on the scene. No way.

Besides all that, I’m just not…right at the moment.

What I haven’t told anyone but the doctors, seeing as they had to run a whole battery of tests, is that I was raped. I don’t have all the weird guilt and dirty feelings that most women experience afterward, because I am fully cognizant of the fact that nothing I did or could have done would have stopped it and it won’t be something that defines me.

I refuse. But it hurt me. I do feel violated because I had a man in my body who was not supposed to be there, and just thinking about him makes me shudder.

All of that, the surgery, Rory, Mika needing me, it’s all just a lot to deal with, and I know that pretending it never happened isn’t helping. But who do I talk to, because I don’t do that whole therapy thing?

Oh, I’m not prejudiced. It’s just that I don’t want to go and sit with a stranger and talk about something that personal. I also don’t want to turn it into this huge thing, because if I let it grow, it will.

Mika would freak if I told her, and Tiff wouldn’t keep it a secret. I love her, but she’s incapable of keeping anything to herself, especially something like this.

I have no other friends, having buckled down in college after Mika recovered and went into remission, so my options are pretty limited. It’s then that I feel like crying and crawling into bed under the covers, and when I feel that way, I need only one person.

My mom. But she’s not here. She’s all the way down in Florida, and honestly, I don’t know that I can burden her with yet another bad thing. She went through hell when Mika was sick, so going to her with yet another thing she couldn’t stop and can’t fix isn’t fair.

So, who? I know who I want to talk to, but…

An hour later, I’m driving and fully aware that pretending to feel sick when I should be working, after five weeks spent resting and the week I was held hostage…well, it’s wrong, but I need something I can’t put off, and I’m at the Wylder house before I know it.

She’s there, of course, and when she sees me, she just opens her arms for me to fly into.

“Come on and tell Mama Rain what’s wrong.”

I make myself breathe when she leads me into a sitting room just off the kitchen and leaves me for a short while only to come back with coffee, wine, cake, beignets, and a lot of food.

Oooh, spaghetti.

“Eat. I know you’re upset and whatever you need to tell me isn’t good, but you eat, and we relax first.”

The spaghetti is so good I do eat. A lot. And by the time we’ve powered through cake and coffee and then onto some red wine, I’m stuffed and replete, and yeah, I am relaxed. I should be a ball of nerves and be sweating and crying and wringing my hands, but I told you, I won’t break down and make this thing big.

It has to stay small, and if I keep it that way, I win, not that asshole.

“When they took me, they hurt me for two days,” I say softly, starting off right in the middle because, really, the kidnapping isn’t what got to me. It’s the pain and the rest of it that has me struggling.

“The doctors told Lyon that you had a lot of bruising and you were obviously slapped around,” Rain says, her facial expression not that great.

“Yeah. He hit me some, kicked me around. That sort of thing. It wasn’t…good, but it was okay, considering I thought he’d kill me. It’s not…that’s not what hurt the most though—”

“The freezer—”

“Yes, but that was just dying, Rain. It was just me hurt and cold and curling up to die because I couldn’t save myself. He raped me. The doctors can’t talk about that to anyone without my say-so, and I am really glad for it because I don’t want Lyon to know. But yeah, he did. It only happened twice, but it was—” I breathe in and hold it before letting it out slowly.

“Oh, my poor girl. I am so sorry. You must be so traumatized,” she says, crying softly and keeping back because I don’t want her to touch me yet, not until I get it all out.

“It was, and it wasn’t, and I know that sounds terrible, but the truth is that I don’t want to make it this big issue that messes with my head. That man was evil. He enjoyed hurting me, and he thought he would break me, but he didn’t. I guess, my problem is that I can’t let Rory touch me, but what do I say? Oh, you know, some pig violated me and you make my skin crawl? That wouldn’t be fair to him, and I don’t want to hurt him,” I whisper, drinking another sip to calm my shaking hands.

“It’s not…I don’t want to focus on it, but I know I have to get it out, you know? I have to look at it and examine it and then heal it, but I don’t want to make it…important. I won’t make it something that shapes me, because I don’t want to be the woman who cringes at touches and never has sex again. I like sex. And I like closeness and intimacy. I just can’t do it with Rory for some reason.”

Rain’s eyes narrow in that strange way that has me thinking of a shaman, no generalization intended. It’s just that she’s so eerily knowing in some ways.

“This problem is only with Rory?”

“Yeah,” I huff, abandoning the wine for beignets that make me smile because I always associate them with Lyon.

And of course, he’s right. His mom does make the best ones. Hers have a dark chocolate filling and some nuts inside them.

“How do you feel around the boys and Alric? Your colleagues?”

“Fine. Nothing. Just fine. Look, I’m not afraid of your family, and the one guy who works in the office with me is so gay it’s crazy. He wears pink socks on Fridays,” I laugh, making her chuckle and nod her head.

“Hhhhmm, are you afraid of Rory?”

“No.”

Which is why I cannot figure it out. I’m not cringing and shying away from anyone, male and female alike, besides Rory. It’s so weird because the guy at the post office is sexual harassment category and even he doesn’t faze me.

Like I said, and you may not believe me or find me sane, but yes, the violation was traumatic and I won’t ever just forget it, but it’s not something I focus on. It’s just something I prefer to see as a crime that was avenged when Wolf killed that guy.

It hurts to think about, but I cried myself out in the shower this morning, and I feel better. The biggest step in healing is facing the issue head-on, and I have. I haven’t just forgotten it, and I won’t, but I won’t relive it every single day of my life and give up everything I want.

I want a relationship and love and children, not losing my mind and ending up alone because someone touched me.

“Leila, my heart, is it possible that your problem with Rory touching you is not related to your ordeal at all but rather because you are still in love with Lyon and the thought of another touching you makes you shrink away?” she asks slowly, not judging me or expecting anything, just proffering her thoughts.

It can’t be possible. My mind doesn’t want it to be true, but I can’t not think about it. I have to, and what I see does not make me happy at all. Rory touching me is shudder worthy because the thought of being touched by him is disgusting. I do love Rory. A different love, true, but I feel real affection for him.

He’s handsome in his own way, and he can be sweet and caring, but whenever he touches me…it’s true. I know he wants sex and kissing, and I just feel…wrong doing it.

He touches me, and my skin doesn’t crawl. It just feels wrong. Oh God.

“I can’t let this happen, Rain. I love Rory, and I’m committed to making things work with him,” I whisper.

She surprises me by smiling in understanding, and I do want to cry when she nods.

“That is honorable. That is very honorable and honest, and I do agree that you shouldn’t just give him up if he means that much to you, but, honey, take it from a woman who found her true love while she was betrothed to another. Sometimes we don’t choose where our happiness is. You and Lyon, you did not end well, and under the circumstances, it amazes me that you are strong enough to be friends at all. If you cannot love him as he needs you to, then it is right and good that you don’t encourage him, but if you can, if you can truly love, then you have to consider that you may belong together.”

She’s wise. I really like that about her and love even more that she can talk to me like a woman and not the woman who could break her son’s heart. I matter just as much to her, and for that, I love her without condition.

“Thank you, Rain. I needed that. And I will think about it all, but I can’t promise anything. I just can’t. The last time I spoke to Lyon eight years ago…it was the worst day of my life, even worse than…the other. You understand?” I ask, needing her to know exactly how I felt.

It broke me. Shattered me. Killed a piece of me.

I do love Lyon. I always will, but to love him that intensely again could be suicide for me.

“I do. And I love you. Now, we drink and have girl-talk, and when you are ready, you come to me. If you need me, I am here, always.”

I lunge for her and hug her with all my might, the warm love she gives me so real and necessary I can’t stop a single tear from trailing out.

“Thank you.”

“Now. Wine!”

I drink enough that we’re giggling together when Alric and Bear walk in, their bemused faces taking in the two wine bottles and the almost empty plates.

“You having a party without us, Rainie girl?” he asks, making her giggle when he sweeps her up into his arms and starts kissing her neck.

“Bear! Please drive my Leila home,” she calls over her shoulder as Alric winks and carries her off.

Bear is laughing and so am I as he offers his hand and pulls me to my feet.

“You have a good time, sweetheart?”

“The best,” I say, lounging when he hands me into the car and comes around.

He reminds me so much of Lyon when he buckles me in that I sober a little because I have a lot of thinking to do about Lyon and Rory and what I want.

What I can handle, more like.

“You know he’s running away from what he feels.”

We’re just turning onto the road when he says this, so I can’t escape the conversation or the look he gives me. Unlike Rain and Hawk and even Lynx, Bear doesn’t pull his punches. I kind of like that. But in this case, I’m not too keen on having Lyon’s big brother cuss me out in a nice way.

“I didn’t do anything, so stop looking at me as if I purposely hurt him. I didn’t, Bear. We spoke weeks ago, and I warned him that if he’s looking for a renewal of our failed relationship, I can’t be near him. I didn’t…don’t want to hurt Lyon, but I’m with someone else, and it wouldn’t be fair of me if I just left him because Lyon makes eyes at me.”

Bear grins, and I relax some, my head lolling against the headrest because I’m tipsy and loose from all the wine.

“I’m not giving you shit, Leila, just pointing out some facts and begging you to think about things. I’m his big brother, and I love him. I watched him be miserable for a long time, and after the stuff Lynx told me about you two, I know why. He’s never gotten over you, and I don’t blame him. Shit went down, bad stuff that broke you apart, and I am partly responsible too, with the plans I made and forced on them. So, forgive me, please, if I overstep, but I can’t just sit back and watch him sink himself again.”

“But what can I do? I’m not available, Bear, and even if I was, I don’t know that Lyon and I will get back together. We hurt each other. Said things that weren’t right, and I know most of it was guilt and grief and anger, even the booze on his part, but it was said. I can’t just risk myself on this when I don’t know if I can be with Lyon.”

That’s something of a lie. I can be with Lyon. It would be as easy as breathing, but what then? We’re so intense when we’re together that sometimes it was hard for me to see anyone else. He filled my world in all the dark places, and I was more than in love. I was overtaken with him.

I don’t want that again. I want a healthy relationship with a love I can trust. Because, God help me, I don’t fully trust him with my heart again. Rory is safe. With him, what I see is what I get. He’ll say he loves me and mean it. Maybe it’s not a passionate love, but it is steadfast.

“Then, don’t be his friend, Leila, because I can’t watch my brother tear himself apart taking scraps from you anymore. He’ll stick with you because to him friendship is better than never seeing you again, but he’ll keep hoping, and letting him hope is cruel, if you’re not going to ever give him what he needs.”

My chest aches as he says this, and I know it’s because he’s right. I told Lyon how I feel, but the truth is I haven’t really been very firm in my definitions and boundaries.

Because I myself am not sure what I want. I opened up to him the other night, asked him where we’d be if we’d stayed together. And the hard facts are that I already knew.

We’d have stayed together and loved each other, and maybe it would have been hard to get through Sparrow’s death and Mika’s illness, but we would have because we loved each other.

I’d have married him because that’s what I dreamed about late at night while he held me. Kids? At least four.

I already knew, and I asked anyway because I was feeling trapped and vulnerable and I think I wanted him to hurt a little and feel just a bit of what I did.

So cruel, and dammit, Bear is right. I either give in or get out.

I just don’t know what to do yet.

“I understand, and I don’t blame you for saying it, so you can stop looking so guilty. I’ve been selfish. I wanted the safety of friendship and the comfort of having them all back, not just Lyon, but it was wrong. That part of my life was over eight years ago.”