Page 98 of Full Split

“Gross, dude. That’s super disturbing.”

And somehow, despite everything, I’m laughing. Actually laughing. The sound startles me, cutting through the fog that’s been choking me for days. For one small, fleeting moment, I feel lighter.

Weston watches me, his expression softening.

“I don’t think I realized how serious you were about him,” he says quietly after a pause. His voice is careful, not hesitant, but honest in a way that makes something tight pull in my chest. “And I want to apologize for that. For all of it. Even if you weren’t serious… it wasn’t right, or okay, to say any of that. I didn’t mean it, I was just upset. Not that there’s any excuse for it, because there isn’t.”

I stare down at the grass, swallowing around the lump in my throat.

“I love you, Niles. You’re my brother. And I’m sorry.”

My next heartbeat is actually painful, like it’s being stitched back together.

I nod, my voice gone. “I love you, too.”

For a long moment, neither of us moves. It’s awkward, but not hostile. Not distant. Not quite the same, but I have hope we can get there.

Then Weston clears his throat, glancing sideways at me. “You’re still super fucked up, though.”

That earns a wide grin from me. I pump my eyebrows. “That’s no way to talk to your future stepdaddy.”

“Oh my God,” he mutters, and groans. He shakes his head, laughing softly as he turns to head back towards the house.

I watch him go, feeling the first flicker of hope stir somewhere deep inside my chest.

And then my phone buzzes. When I glance down and see a text from Wyatt, the world narrows to that tiny screen.

DADDY: Don’t do anything yet. Give me one more day. I love you.

The next night, my phone buzzes again, the vibration jolting through me like an electric shock. It’s been the longest day ever waiting to hear from him.

DADDY: Treehouse.

That’s all it says. But it’s enough to make my breath catch. I spring off the couch, grab a hoodie, stuff my feet into some sneakers, and run out the back door. My shoes crunch over the frost-bitten grass, the chill biting through my too-thin hoodie. I should have grabbed an actual jacket, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

Because he’s here.

Wyatt stands beneath the crooked ladder, framed by the bare shadows of the trees, his arms crossed tight over his chest likehe’s physically holding himself together. His head lifts when he sees me. His eyes catch the porch light behind me, glinting like wet stone.

For a moment, neither of us moves. It’s a little reminiscent of the way things were at first, when our affection was more tentative. I don’t have to wait long, though, before he’s stepping towards me. I close the distance, and the next thing I know, he’s pulling me into his arms.

I melt against him, pressing my face into his shoulder, breathing him in like oxygen after being underwater for too long. His arms tighten around me, strong and steady, and I don’t even realize I’m shaking until I feel him shift to hold me closer.

“I missed you,” I whisper against his skin, my voice breaking.

“God, I missed you too.”

His voice is rough, worn thin. I feel it vibrate against my cheek. Feel it in the way he clings to me like he’s scared I’ll vanish.

“Belgium ruined me. I can’t sleep without you anymore..”

“Me either.” His lips brush against the top of my head, featherlight. “I keep waking up thinking you’re there.”

I lean back just far enough to meet his eyes. I can barely see him in the darkness, but I can feel him watching me. I can feel how much he needs this too.

He kisses me again, slow and desperate. There’s nothing rushed or frantic. It’s just the real, solid, aching connection of two people who’ve spent too long apart. I lose myself in it, in the warmth of his mouth, in the steady grip of his hands on my back.

When we break apart, we’re both breathless. He nudges me towards the platform so we can sit and talk.