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Only I did. And that was minimal at best.

I tuck my hands into my pockets. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugs. “Been to a lot of meetings, but they haven’t made a final decision yet. Pretty sure I’m done in academia.”

For some reason, that doesn’t sink his shoulders any further. Orion looks up at the door to Sofia’s place. Her absence has made him this way. Worn him down. Made him suffer.

Me, too, bud. Me, too.

It takes another minute for Braxton to pull up, his hulking form slow and steady as he approaches. The sad determination in the man’s eyes says it all. No need to stretch this out.

I lead us up the steps of her stoop to knock on her door.

There’s a colorful wreath there, like she’s taken the time to decorate for the upcoming holidays. A decent enough distraction for her and her son. Where is he now? With her father?

The door opens to reveal Sofia’s bright blonde hair, gathered back from her face. Her cheeks are a rosy pink, eyes sharper than ever.

But she’s dressed in a baggy T-shirt and sweats. Very much not the usual Sofia that I’ve come to know. Unless on top of everything else, she’s on her period.

Thankfully, she has no dark spots under her eyes. And the small amount of tiredness she displays could easily be from the normal end of semester crunch.

How many hours did it take her to edit that video? To scour the hours of footage she’s amassed over the semester? Even narrowing down to the times she knew we were all together, that amounts to days and weeks of raw footage to comb through.

My instinct is to reach for her, but I don’t.

She waves us inside, and although it’s not the first time I’ve seen the place, I’ve always been far too distracted to give it a good examination.

Clean, white, but nothing about this place is sparse. Kids' toys are piled in the corner. Some items spread across the floor out of the usual walkways. Her couch is a deep burgundy that makes her skin flush by proximity.

The open kitchen behind the living room is equally clean and white, although more fruit is split between two bowls on the counter than I’ve ever kept in my kitchen. More signs that her life is not just her own.

She has to consider her son, too.

I’d be a fool to think otherwise.

“I need you three to have a seat because I have something I need to get off my chest.”

Fuck. My chest tightens. My muscles protest as I lower myself onto the big, billowy cushions beside Braxton.

She’s going to end this now, isn’t she?

I’m not sure I can take it. At least, not well. I rather think this might be the first thing to ever break me.

Closing my eyes briefly, I open them to meet her gaze. I don’t want to go out like a coward.

No, what I want is to order her to spread her thighs to let me lap at her core until my heart is content.

I can’t do that, either.

The silence stretches, and my muscles tighten, ready for this to blow up in my face.

God, if this is how I make others feel, I’m certainly paying for it now.

Sofia sucks in a long, deep breath. Her gaze drops to where her fingers tangle together in front of her.

Her words blow out with a gust of air that has me missing what she says.

Or is that the ringing in my ears?