Page 20 of My Broken Mate (Healing Bonds #1)

For a moment, there is something in her eyes, as if she is disappointed, but then she just smiles brightly. “Is that so? Well, I guess sweets aren’t for everyone.”

Right at that moment, her brother appears in the room again, proudly handing the promised pamphlet to me.

Fortunately, his phone rings and he leaves us again, meaning I don’t need to react instantly.

I carefully study the pamphlet that gives a glimpse into Evander’s artwork.

He has a very obscure style, clearly very critical of society, grotesque and dark, but also very creative.

Unfortunately, I don’t know much about modern art.

Seeing Evander’s work now makes me realize that shortcoming.

I have been taught not to say my opinion if I lack knowledge or have nothing smart to say.

The silence lingers around us, though, so I feel enticed to say something polite at least. “This is a huge achievement,” I say.

Kata doesn’t say much. Just takes the pamphlet and looks at it. For a moment, she looks sad, but then she smiles. “It is an achievement. He is just so talented.”

She puts the pamphlet aside, taking her notebook instead. “Let’s start with our work,” she says. She seems to want to get down to business.

The look she had in her eyes before still lingers with me, weirdly unsettling me in a way I am not used to. But since studying is what I am here for, there is nothing to say or do but comply with her wish. “Of course.”

*GAbrIEL*

I hurry down the alley leading to the coffee shop to meet Eve, trying not to bump into anyone.

I just wrapped up my last meeting of the day, making extra hours as usual, but I don’t mind them.

I love my work, and I love providing for the pack and for my family.

However, I hate letting my friend wait. It’s not like I have many of them.

“I am sorry, it’s awfully late,” I blurt out while hurrying towards my friend. He is sipping at his beverage, gazing up at me.

“Oh, I expected it, don’t worry,” Eve says, in his usual aloof manner. He always has that slightly dreamy expression on his face, as if he is thinking of something far away.

“Am I someone you expect to come late?” I ask. I would hate that. It’s impolite and very disrespectful to be late somewhere, and I would not like anyone to consider me a person who makes others wait for me.

“No, not necessarily. But you told me in advance that you have a couple of business meetings, and weren’t sure if you would make it in time.” He looks at me. “Shall we go? I know you probably didn’t eat yet, but we can do that later.”

“Wait, is the gallery still open? I thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“Well, I can come and go as I like,” he explains.

“Right, you are their star artist.”

“I wouldn’t call it that way,” he admits. “I am just up and coming.”

“Well, judging by the audience and the art scene, you are certainly more than that,” I say. “Let’s go. I want to see your work.”

Now it makes sense why he chose this coffee shop.

It’s unlike those he usually frequents, too crowded and loud, and he hates chains of any kind, but it’s also very close to the gallery.

Being booked by a gallery of this size is truly a milestone in his career, and despite his calm attitude, I know he is aware of it.

“How come you aren’t nervous?” I ask him while we make our way through the night.

“You are never nervous either,” he points out.

“True, but I am used to having meetings,” I say. “And I’m usually the one others want something from. I am not used to being judged.”

Eve hums something before he shrugs. “You are not wrong, but I don’t care.

I paint because I like painting. I don’t care for anyone’s opinion on my art.

I never read reviews. I only know what the audience thinks when my siblings tell me.

It’s just—” he pauses. “When I draw, my whole mind is in it. I don’t plan or think about how it will be perceived. ”

“I am not sure if I will ever understand how your brain works,” I admit. “But I am oddly fascinated.” I have never met anyone so aloof as Eve. He doesn’t even seem to hear any negativity or hate towards his work, nor does he mind the praise. When it’s about his art, he is in his own world.

“Being my brother’s beta is the true hassle,” he says.

“I feel that. I supported Sean, too, at the beginning, but I am not cut out for the work either. I am glad he has his own beta now.”

“I hope Joel will find someone, too,” he says. “I don’t mind helping him, because he deserves it, but I am seriously bad at it. My brain is not made for socializing with so many people and sitting through meetings. I feel like Kata would be more suited for that job.”

“Why don’t you offer it to her then?”

“She is too young,” he admits. “She went through a lot, and Joel and I want her to study at college without thinking about work. For once, she should enjoy her time.”

“It’s the same for Sean and me with Remy,” I say.

“Oh, really? I didn’t know!” He looks around and lowers his voice.

“I thought it was because of his health…” his voice trails off, but I know what he is talking about.

Eve is one of the very few who know about Remy’s condition, mainly because he was the one able to provide us with experts who are not from our pack.

Sean and I wanted to make sure that no one would blab about Remy.

He doesn’t deserve to have the whole pack gossip about him and harass him.

It shouldn’t be an embarrassment for him, and Eve is one of those people who hate any gossip and aren’t interested in anything that doesn’t concern them.

He also has an interesting backstory himself, and I know he wouldn’t tell anyone about Remy, not even his own family.

“He is talented,” I say. “Very smart. And he is much better at socializing than I am. Despite his condition, I think Sean wants him on his team in one way or another. But we want him to have time to heal and study, and enjoy his life.”

“And does your plan work?” Eve asks.

I stare at him. “How did you guess that it didn’t?”

“A feeling,” he says promptly.

Everyone tends to underestimate him because of his constant daydreaming and his quietness, but he is very attentive. Maybe that’s the gaze of an artist. He sees things others don’t. “I don’t think my brother is happy,” I say.

“Remy?”

“Both of them, actually, but Remy in particular.”

Eve nods thoughtfully. “Yes,” he says quietly. “You were living with a monster, and no one knows just how much of a monster he truly was.”

I don’t answer him. It’s not necessary. Instead, I look up at the moon, a full moon, wondering how often I was hiding somewhere as a kid and looking up at the sky, hoping for the goddess to save me or my family, my mom, my brothers, and crying because she never did.

How many other hurt and abused children were watching the same moon at the same time?

At times, this was my only comfort to know that I am not alone in this world.

And then there was Sean, shielding me as much from me as possible, and then Remy.

I think Dad had a weak spot for him, or rather, his mom, which is why he didn’t beat him as much as Sean and me.

But I feel like Remy is slipping away more and more nowadays, so what do I know?

I don’t know a fuck.

“Let’s change the topic,” I say.

“Yes, sorry,” Eve mutters. “I was the one mentioning him.”

“Not your fault at all,” I say. “My father was a monster through and through.”