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“You do?” Warmth spreads throughout my chest and face, waiting for that unknown again.
“Hads.” He sighs. “I’ve been a fucking mess these last six years. I know people told you about me as a kid, and it’s true. I was a lot to handle, but after you, I could barely tolerate myself. Hell, part of me being discharged from the Navy had a lot to do with my mental stability. Or lack thereof.”
“That’s not your fault,” I note, hoping he acknowledges it.
He does the same thing he always does—closes off, drops his gaze, and changes the subject. “Is Eddie in school yet?”
“Ender… you’re avoiding my questions.”
His eyes find mine, distant, annoyed, but he doesn’t say anything. He sits back, crosses his arms over his chest. The sadness returns. There’s scars on Ender’s heart that will never heal. Deep ones by the people who were supposed to protect him but instead treated him like a punching bag. And for a long time he used what he could to cover them. Sex. Drugs. Running. And when that didn’t work, what’s he left with?
“You’re never going to be able to move on unless you acknowledge it. If Eddie’s going to be in your life, I think you need to talk about it.”
“Talk about what?” he snaps, and then bites his lip, fidgeting with his napkin. “What is it that you want to hear?” There’s an irritated edge he can’t hide. He doesn’t want to have this conversation.
“I want you to understand that his lack of love, doesn’t dictate your worth.”
He stares at me for a lot longer than I expect. He swallows, clears his throat, and the crease between his brows deepen.
“Have you ever talked about it?”
He clears his throat and drops his arms, elbows resting on the table. I look at his hands. They’re red, swollen, and scarred. “No,” he says indifferently. “There’s not much to say.”
I fight back tears. “Did he ever touch Arya or Myles? What about Greer?”
“Never.” He closes his eyes again, then opens them as he lets out a breath. “As long as I was around, he never touched them.”
“So you stayed and provoked him to protect them?”
Ender’s entire body reacts to my question. His shoulders stiffen, and if I had to guess, I think he wants to leave. He keeps looking from me to the parking lot. His breathing changes, his chest rising and falling faster. “I couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting them like he did to me.”
“But he hurt you,” I point out, keeping my voice down. “Over and over again.”
He blinks. I hate the despondent expression he wears. Like he’s shutting himself down to talk about this. “It kinda became a way of life. When I knew he was angry, and I could see that look in his eyes, I provoked him. I’d do anything I could to piss him off because that meant I’d get the brunt of it. He’d fuck other women, my mom would get pissed, and I’d start a fight with him so he’d leave her alone.”
My heart beats in my ears, my stomach rolling at the thought of Ender hurting. “Did it stop when you got older and fought back?”
“Oh fuck no,” he breathes, shaking his head. “It got worse when I fought back.”
I lift my eyes to his hands again. “Carter told me he broke your hand before state championships.”
Ender rubs his face with his palms. “That’s not even the worse thing he did to me.”
I search his eyes. “What was?”
He swallows again, the irritated edge to his words returning. His eyes are cold, lifeless. It’s the same expression he wears anytime Theo is mentioned. “When I was eleven, he hit me so hard my retina detached and I had to have surgery to fix it.” There’s a defiant arch to his brow. “I couldn’t play ball for a year. There’s a band attached to my retina to keep it in place. I almost got denied SEAL training because of it. I barely passed the vision requirements.”
Tears roll down my cheeks. “What did your mom do?”
“Nothing. Looked the other way. She thought if I didn’t act out, it wouldn’t happen, but she didn’t understand the consequences. If I hadn’t, he would have taken that anger out on someone else.”
“But she could have left him and took you guys.”
“Yeah, she could have. Which is why I said those things to her last night.”
I can’t help my tears. They roll down warm cheeks and Ender shifts in his chair. His jaw tightens and he leans back, running his hand over the back of his neck.
“I could never do those things to Eddie,” I whisper, staring at my empty beer glass.