Page 66

Brenna, she had felt like this light. This ray of sunshine who, despite the shit she dealt with at home, could always make me smile. Make me slow down and appreciate life, and the relationship we had. The tables spent so long turning, I hadn’t realized they’d tipped to the other side. More worse days than good, more fights and less laughter, more heartache than any light the good days could bring.
It was a few weeks after one of our worst fights that I finally snapped out of it, and I realized I didn’t recognize myself anymore. This person who tiptoed around her feelings, her moods. This person that went to great lengths to make her happy, when I was miserable.
We went months without talking after that. If I couldn’t save her, I was going to save myself.
The night of the party, we had only recently started talking again, only recently considering ourselves together, and we were already fucking fighting. I still had the stubborn hope that we were going to make it through, though. Until I found out she had been cheating. She’d been accusing me of cheating on her all week, ironically enough. Something I never would’ve fucking done. And that night, the same goddamn night she passed, I found out she had been the one cheating all along.
I never suspected. Not once. She played me for a fool. I made my peace with it, though; I had to. But it took me a long damn time to work through it. It was one thing to grieve; it was a another when I was still so fucking angry with her.
“I used to walk over to that field at night.” I motion a hand in its direction, just down the block. “And just fucking scream at the sky.” Her gaze follows my line of sight. “So I know what that’s like, too—blaming yourself. But Declan, that was not your fault. Not by a long shot. And your brother wouldn’t want you to blame yourself either.”
“I know,” she breathes. “Deep down, I do. You know that too, though, right? That it wasn’t your fault? That there’s nothing you could have done differently? You don’t deserve to carry that weight with you.” Tears form in her eyes, and one eventually slips through, diving down her cheek. The sight twists at me, invisible hands gripping my chest and forcing everything behind it taut. I don’t want to be the reason for her tears. No matter the cause. “Life happens, and people fight, Jude. But she knows you loved her, that you cared about her. You know that, right?”
She links her fingers through mine—bare of any ink, polish, or jewelry. The tattooed words written on the inside of mine show beneath hers, standing out against her untouched skin.
Never lose hope.
A phrase that got me through the hardest days. And a phrase that, ironically enough, Brenna always used to say.
Declan’s hand tightens around my own, and I drag my gaze up to meet hers. “My intent was to comfort you, not the other way around,” I say.
She shrugs with half a smile gracing her lips. “Sometimes the words don’t matter as much as knowing you’re not alone.”
Too right.Too fucking right.
And with her, I never feel as if I am.
Around Declan, I can be open. Be myself. Share the darkest parts of my past because she gets it.
Around her, I feel like I can breathe.
______
“She’s beautiful, Little J,” my brother comments as I walk through the door.
A grunt is all I offer him in reply.
Declan just took off in an Uber. One I had to practically force her inside of. It was either she let me pay for her ride or I was going to follow her all the way home myself, so she reluctantly agreed.
But reeling back to my brother’s comment—of course she’s beautiful. She’s fucking gorgeous. And a hell of a lot more than that, too. Smart, talented, kind, caring, strong, raw, real. The list goes on and fucking on and on.
“I like her,” he continues. “Respect her even, for not jumping all over your dick like every other girl who runs your way. And I don’t think she’s playing games, either. She’s making your ass work for it without even knowing she’s doing it.” He chuckles. “Yeah, I really like her.”
I really like her, too.
“You gonna bring her out for the Fourth?” he asks.
I nod. “I think I might. Yeah.” Emotions expand within me.
“Well damn,” he says, wearing a too-knowing grin. “Our littlest brother is bringing a girl home.”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he mocks, throwing a pillow at me, and I catch it in my grasp before it hits me in the junk. Taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch from him, I chuck the pillow back in return and nail him between the legs. He curls forward, white-knuckling the pillow. “Fucking bastard,” he wheezes, and I bark out a deep laugh. “I was going to say—it’s good to see you happy. Smiling with someone new. But now, you can go right off and fuck yourself.”
My laugh delves deeper, rumbling beneath my chest.
He leans over and messes a hand through my hair. “Nah, I take it back, Little J,” he says. “It’s really fucking nice to see you laughing like this. You’re happy, huh?”