Page 25
Story: Mended Hearts
“Jesus, you’re like a detective on a trail.”
“Just trying to understand. My bad.”
“No,” I sighed, palming my face. “You’re just... persistent.”
“Chalk it up to eleven brothers and sisters. If you don’t pry information out of them, it’s all too easy to lose touch.”
Grinning, I nodded, setting my hand on her knee where she sat crisscrossed beside me, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just not used to anybody giving a shit.”
“You and Grey holding your life close to the vest does not equate to nobody giving a shit.”
I cleared my throat uneasily. “Point taken.”
“So?”
I shook my head, staring at the screen without a single image registering. “The late nights add up. Empires aren’t built—or maintained—on standard hours. The demand takes a toll.”
“So she said she’d support you, but couldn’t actually deal?”
“We didn’t last six months after Mattie before it got rocky.”
“Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully, shaking her head. “Her loss, Ollie. You’re like... pretty decent. Most of the time.” Her dripping sarcasm took a hammer to my anxiety.
There wasn’t pity churning behind those gunmetal-blue eyes. None. Just understanding. Empathy. Somehow, that was validating in a way nothing else ever was.
“No point in dwelling on the past,” she said cheerily, tucking her back against my arm. I opened for her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer—and wondering how on earth she could feel so perfect against my side.
“Know a lot about that?” I mumbled, settling my cheek against the top of her head.
“It would be pathetically easy to live in what-ifs.What ifmy body didn’t betray me?What ifI’d made it through college into pro ball?”
“Volley?”
“Foot.”
“Like powderpuff?”
She snorted, laughing as she shook her head, her frizzy hair tickling my nose.
“Soccer.”
“Hmm. You get hurt?”
“Something like that.”
Before I could press further, she added lightly: “But there’s no point in living there. You know? It happened. I’m okay. The path changed, and frankly, I don’t have a single clue where it’s leading now.” She shrugged. “I was only going to college to play, but ended up staying because I didn’t know what else to do. And I didn’t want my family mother-henning me more than they already were—when there are a million of them, it’s super overwhelming.”
“I can imagine.”
“So,” she continued, “we forge ahead. You have two incredible kids, Ollie. They love you to the moon and back. And a brother who would do anything for the three of you.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, trying not to sound bitter. The truth was—seeing him tonight had reopened that wound. I fucking missed the asshole. He’d dragged our family into the sights of monsters with his need for control—his god-like alter ego—and I couldn’t even stay mad.
“You loved it?” I asked, desperate to shift the focus back to her.
“Lived and breathed it.”
Nodding, I thought about that scar, always peeking out of her shirt. I was about to ask about it when she added: “But it’s in my past. It’ll stay there, too.”
“Just trying to understand. My bad.”
“No,” I sighed, palming my face. “You’re just... persistent.”
“Chalk it up to eleven brothers and sisters. If you don’t pry information out of them, it’s all too easy to lose touch.”
Grinning, I nodded, setting my hand on her knee where she sat crisscrossed beside me, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just not used to anybody giving a shit.”
“You and Grey holding your life close to the vest does not equate to nobody giving a shit.”
I cleared my throat uneasily. “Point taken.”
“So?”
I shook my head, staring at the screen without a single image registering. “The late nights add up. Empires aren’t built—or maintained—on standard hours. The demand takes a toll.”
“So she said she’d support you, but couldn’t actually deal?”
“We didn’t last six months after Mattie before it got rocky.”
“Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully, shaking her head. “Her loss, Ollie. You’re like... pretty decent. Most of the time.” Her dripping sarcasm took a hammer to my anxiety.
There wasn’t pity churning behind those gunmetal-blue eyes. None. Just understanding. Empathy. Somehow, that was validating in a way nothing else ever was.
“No point in dwelling on the past,” she said cheerily, tucking her back against my arm. I opened for her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer—and wondering how on earth she could feel so perfect against my side.
“Know a lot about that?” I mumbled, settling my cheek against the top of her head.
“It would be pathetically easy to live in what-ifs.What ifmy body didn’t betray me?What ifI’d made it through college into pro ball?”
“Volley?”
“Foot.”
“Like powderpuff?”
She snorted, laughing as she shook her head, her frizzy hair tickling my nose.
“Soccer.”
“Hmm. You get hurt?”
“Something like that.”
Before I could press further, she added lightly: “But there’s no point in living there. You know? It happened. I’m okay. The path changed, and frankly, I don’t have a single clue where it’s leading now.” She shrugged. “I was only going to college to play, but ended up staying because I didn’t know what else to do. And I didn’t want my family mother-henning me more than they already were—when there are a million of them, it’s super overwhelming.”
“I can imagine.”
“So,” she continued, “we forge ahead. You have two incredible kids, Ollie. They love you to the moon and back. And a brother who would do anything for the three of you.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, trying not to sound bitter. The truth was—seeing him tonight had reopened that wound. I fucking missed the asshole. He’d dragged our family into the sights of monsters with his need for control—his god-like alter ego—and I couldn’t even stay mad.
“You loved it?” I asked, desperate to shift the focus back to her.
“Lived and breathed it.”
Nodding, I thought about that scar, always peeking out of her shirt. I was about to ask about it when she added: “But it’s in my past. It’ll stay there, too.”
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