SIX
WILLOW
I wake up slowly, a smile spreading across my face as I feel Rogue's strong arms around me. The events of last night come flooding back—our passionate reunion, the way he touched me, kissed me, made me feel things I never knew were possible.
But more than that, I remember our conversations. The way he opened up to me, even if just a little. Learning that he lost his dad hurt. The family he's found in his work brothers—it makes me happy that he has them now.
As I lie there, listening to Rogue's steady breathing, I allow myself to imagine a future together. Lazy Sunday mornings in bed. Cooking dinner together in a cozy kitchen. Maybe even a little house someday, with a yard for kids to play in. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. It's so soon to be thinking this way, but something about Rogue just feels right. Like he's the missing piece I've been waiting for my whole life.
I know there's still so much I don't know about him. His work, his past—there are clearly dark things there that he's not ready to share. But I meant what I said last night. I trust him. Whatever demons he's battling, whatever dangerous world he's part of, I want to face it together.
Rogue stirs beside me, his arms tightening around my waist as he buries his face in my hair. "Mornin', Little Flower," he mumbles, voice rough with sleep.
I turn in his arms to face him, smiling at his sleepy expression. "Good morning, handsome."
He leans in to kiss me, morning breath be damned. It's soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the heated passion of last night. When we part, I see a vulnerability in his eyes that makes my heart skip a beat.
"What are you thinking about?" he asks, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
I bite my lip, debating how much to reveal. "Just... how right this feels," I admit finally. "Being here with you."
Something flashes in Rogue's eyes—longing, maybe? But it's quickly replaced by a guarded expression. "Willow," he starts, his voice serious, "you know this won't be easy, right? My life..." he pauses, his gaze searching mine.
I nod, reaching up to cup his face. "I know. And I meant what I said last night. I'm not afraid, Rogue. Whatever comes, we'll face it together." He keeps telling me that his life is dangerous and I know he’s trying to warn me, but I want him. I’m falling for him.
He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I want nothing more than to protect him from whatever darkness haunts him. I hate that he’s so torn, that whatever is holding him back from me could actually win out.
"You're too good for me," he murmurs, opening his eyes to gaze at me with an intensity that takes my breath away. "I don't deserve you, Little Flower."
"Stop,” I say, hating that he thinks that. “Please,” I whisper. “You’re a good man, Rogue.”
“Ezra,” he murmurs.
I blink. “Ezra?” I echo.
He nods. “Yes, my name is Ezra. My road name is Rogue.”
I have no idea what any of that means, but my heart feels full at his words. I do know that it’s something significant. I can feel it.
"Ezra," I breathe, savoring the way his real name feels on my lips.
His eyes soften as he looks at me. "You're the only one who’ll use that name. I haven't used it in years."
My heart pounds. This is a big deal for him, sharing this piece of himself. I lean in to kiss him softly, trying to pour all my gratitude and affection into it.
"Willow, I?—"
He's cut off by the shrill ringing of his phone. Ezra curses under his breath, reaching for it. His expression darkens as he checks the caller ID.
"I have to take this," he says apologetically. "Work stuff."
I nod, trying to hide my disappointment as he gets out of bed and steps into the other room to answer the call. Left alone, I can't help but wonder about the mysterious "work" that seems to constantly intrude on our time together.
I know Ezra's job is dangerous, possibly illegal. Part of me is terrified to know the details. But another part desperately wants to understand this side of him, to know all of him—the good and the bad.
As I wait for Ezra to return, my mind drifts to my family. I should probably check in with them, let them know I'm okay. But the thought of facing my mother's disappointment and my father's indifference makes my stomach churn.
I take a deep breath and call my mom.
"Willow, darling, where have you been? We've been so worried!" My mother's voice is laced with false concern as she answers.
"I'm fine, Mom. Just been busy with school."
"Well, you really should make more of an effort to keep in touch. Ivy calls us every day, you know. She's such a thoughtful girl."
And there it is. The inevitable comparison to my perfect twin sister. No matter what I do, I'll never measure up in their eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” I mumble.
“Dinner tonight,” she tells me, and her voice has that tone that brokers no argument.
“What time?” I sigh, knowing I’m in for an evening of passive aggressive comments posed as concern, constant put downs, and comparisons to Ivy.
“Seven,” she responds. “I’ll let Ivy and your father know that you’re alive.”
I bite back my anger. “You do that, Mom. I’ll see you tonight.” I end the call and take a steadying breath. I’ve not even seen her today and I’m already angry. God, tonight is going to be awful.
I'm pulled from my thoughts by Ezra's return. His face is set in hard lines, jaw clenched tight.
"Everything okay?" I ask hesitantly.
He nods, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. "Yeah, just some stuff I need to take care of. I'm sorry, Little Flower, but I need to go."
Disappointment washes over me, but I force a smile. "It's okay. I understand. I should probably head home anyway. I have dinner with my family tonight and I need to get ready."
Ezra's expression softens slightly. He comes over to the bed, cupping my face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he says again, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
I nod, leaning into his touch. "Be careful," I whisper, unable to shake the feeling of unease his sudden departure has stirred in me.
He gives me a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Always am, Little Flower." With one last kiss, he's gone, leaving me alone in his apartment.
I sigh, getting up to gather my things. As I dress, I can't help but feel a sense of melancholy. Every time I feel like I'm getting closer to Ezra, to understanding him, something pulls him away.
Unlocking the door to my dorm, I'm surprised to find Ivy lounging on my couch, flipping through a magazine.
"Sis!" she exclaims, jumping up to hug me. "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all day!"
I hug her back, guilt washing over me. In the whirlwind of my time with Ezra, I'd completely forgotten to check my phone.
"Sorry, I was... out," I say vaguely, not quite ready to share the details of my relationship with Ezra.
Ivy raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on her face. "Out, huh? With that mysterious guy you mentioned before?"
I blush, unable to hide my smile. "Maybe."
Ivy squeals, pulling me to sit on the couch. "Spill, sis! I want all the details!"
For a moment, I'm transported back to our teenage years, when we'd stay up late giggling over boys and dreams of the future. I've missed this closeness with my twin.
"His name is Ezra," I say, unable to keep the affection out of my voice. "He's... different from anyone I've ever met. Intense, mysterious, but so gentle with me."
"He sounds... interesting," Ivy says carefully when I finish. "Just be careful, okay? Men like that... they can be dangerous."
I frown, surprised by her warning. "You don't even know him, Ivy."
She sighs, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "I know. I just worry about you, sis. You're so... innocent. I don't want to see you get hurt."
“I won’t. So, what did you want to see me about?” I ask, wondering why she’s here.
Ivy's expression shifts, becoming more serious. "Oh right. I wanted to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. I want you to meet Lochlann."
I blink in surprise. Ivy has been so secretive about her relationship. I never expected her to want me to meet him. "Really? I'd love to."
She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Great! It'll just be the three of us. I really want you two to get to know each other."
There's something off about her tone, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is. "Sounds good," I say, pushing aside my unease. "Where should we meet?"
"How about that little Italian place downtown? Around eight?"
I nod, remembering my first dinner with Ezra at that same restaurant. The memory brings a smile to my face.
Ivy stands, gathering her things. "Well, I should get going. See you tomorrow night, sis!"
As she leaves, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this dinner invitation than Ivy is letting on. But I push the thought aside, focusing instead on getting ready for dinner with my parents.
Dinner with my parents is exactly as I expected—a minefield of passive-aggressive comments and thinly veiled disappointment.
"Willow, darling, you look tired," my mother says as soon as I sit down. "Are you getting enough sleep? You know how important it is to take care of yourself."
I force a smile. "I'm fine, Mom. Just been busy with school."
"Hmm," she hums, not sounding convinced. "Well, you should try to get more rest. We wouldn't want you falling behind in your studies."
My father barely looks up from his newspaper. "How are your classes going, Willow?"
"They're going well," I start, but before I can elaborate, my mother cuts in.
"Oh, did I tell you about Ivy's latest art show? It was such a success! The gallery owner said she's never seen such talent in someone so young."
And just like that, the conversation shifts to Ivy's accomplishments, my own achievements forgotten. I sit there, pushing food around my plate, feeling increasingly invisible.
"Oh, and Ivy's bringing her boyfriend to dinner on Saturday night," my mother gushes. "Lochlann, such a charming young man. So successful for his age."
I perk up at this. "Really? Ivy invited me to dinner with them tomorrow."
My mother's smile falters for a moment. "Oh? Well, I'm sure she just wanted to introduce him to you separately. You know how overwhelming it can be to meet the whole family at once."
The implication is clear—Ivy didn't want me there for the "real" family dinner. I swallow hard, fighting back the hurt.
"Right," I mumble. "Of course."
The rest of dinner passes in a blur of Ivy praise and snide criticisms of my life choices. By the time I leave, I'm emotionally exhausted.
As I walk back to my dorm, I can't help but compare my family's treatment of me to how Ezra makes me feel. With my parents, I always feel inadequate, invisible. But with Ezra, I feel seen, cherished; like I'm the most important person in the world.
The thought of him brings a smile to my face, chasing away some of the darkness from dinner. I pull out my phone, debating whether to text him. In the end, I decide against it. He seemed stressed when he left this morning, and I don't want to bother him if he's dealing with work stuff.
Instead, I throw myself into schoolwork, trying to push aside thoughts of both my family and Ezra. But as I lay in bed that night, I can't help but wish he was here with me, his strong arms wrapped around me, making me feel safe and loved.
The next evening, I arrive at the Italian restaurant a few minutes early. I'm nervous about meeting Lochlann, especially after my mother's comments last night. What if he's as judgmental as my parents? What if he looks at me and sees all the ways I don't measure up to Ivy?
I spot Ivy at a table near the back. There’s a man beside her who I assume must be Lochlann. As I approach, I'm struck by how tense Ivy looks. Her smile seems forced, and there's a tightness around her eyes that I've never seen before.
"Willow!" she says, standing to hug me. "I'm so glad you could make it. This is Lochlann."
I turn to greet him, and immediately feel a chill run down my spine. Lochlann is handsome in a sharp, predatory way. His smile doesn't reach his eyes, which are cold and calculating as they assess me.
"So you're the famous twin sister," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "Ivy's told me so much about you."
Something about the way he says it makes me uneasy. I force a smile, taking my seat across from them. "It's nice to meet you, Lochlann. I've heard a lot about you, too."
As dinner progresses, my unease only grows. Lochlann dominates the conversation, his charm seeming more and more like a carefully constructed facade. He asks probing questions about my life, my studies, my friends, but there's an intensity to his interest that feels off, like he's looking for specific information rather than just getting to know me.
Ivy remains oddly quiet throughout the meal, only speaking when directly addressed. I catch her shooting nervous glances at Lochlann when she thinks he's not looking. It's so unlike my usually vivacious sister that alarm bells start ringing in my head.
"So, Willow," Lochlann says, leaning forward with an unsettling intensity. "Ivy mentioned you've been seeing someone new. Tell me about him."
I freeze, caught off guard by the question. Something in Lochlann's tone makes me wary of sharing too much about Ezra. "Oh, it's nothing serious," I lie, trying to keep my voice casual. "We've only been on a few dates."
Lochlann's eyes narrow slightly, as if he can sense my deception. "Really? What's his name? What does he do?"
"Um, his name is Rogue," I say, using Ezra's road name instinctively. "He works in security, I think. I don't know much about it."
"Rogue?" Lochlann repeats, an odd expression crossing his face. "Interesting name. And you say you don't know much about his work?"
I shake my head, growing increasingly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "No, not really. We don't talk about work much."
Lochlann hums thoughtfully, exchanging a loaded glance with Ivy. My sister looks pale, almost scared.
"Well, you should be careful, Willow," Lochlann says, his voice dripping with false concern. "There are a lot of dangerous men out there. You never know who you can trust."
A chill runs down my spine at his words. There's a threat lurking beneath the surface, though I can't quite grasp it.
"I appreciate your concern," I say stiffly, "but I can take care of myself."
Lochlann smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Of course you can. I'm sure your... Rogue... takes good care of you, too."
The way he says Ezra's road name makes my skin crawl. I glance at Ivy, silently pleading for help, but she avoids my gaze.
"Well, this has been lovely," I say, standing abruptly. "But I should really be going. I have an early class tomorrow."
"So soon?" Lochlann asks, his tone mocking. "But we were just getting to know each other."
I force a smile. "Another time, perhaps. It was nice to meet you, Lochlann."
As I gather my things, Ivy finally speaks up. "I'll walk you out, sis."
Once we're outside, I turn to her. "Ivy, what the hell was that? Are you okay?"
She glances nervously over her shoulder before meeting my eyes. "I'm fine," she says, but her voice trembles slightly. "Lochlann is... intense sometimes. But he cares about me."
"Ivy—" I start, but she cuts me off.
"Just... be careful, okay? With this Rogue guy. I don't want to see you get hurt."
Before I can respond, Ivy gives me a quick hug and hurries back inside. I'm left standing on the sidewalk, a knot of unease growing in my stomach. Something is very wrong with this situation, but I can't quite put my finger on what.
As I walk home, my mind races. The way Lochlann questioned me about Ezra, the fear in Ivy's eyes... it all feels connected somehow, but I'm missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
I pull out my phone, debating whether to call Ezra. I want nothing more than to hear his voice, to feel the safety and comfort he provides. But I hesitate, remembering how stressed he seemed yesterday. I don't want to burden him with my paranoid thoughts.
In the end, I send him a simple text.
Me: Thinking of you. Hope your day was good. Miss you.
His reply comes almost immediately.
Rogue: Miss you too, Little Flower. Sweet dreams.
The message brings a smile to my face, chasing away some of the darkness from dinner. Whatever is going on with Ivy and Lochlann, whatever dangers might be lurking, I know Ezra will protect me. He may have his secrets, his dangerous side, but I trust him completely.
As I get ready for bed that night, I can't shake the feeling that something big is coming. The tension between Ezra's world and my family's secrets feels like it's building to a crescendo. But as I drift off to sleep, I hold on to the warmth of Ezra's words and the memory of his touch. Whatever storms may come, we'll weather them together.
My dreams that night are unsettling; a swirl of shadowy figures, Lochlann's cold eyes, Ivy's fearful face, my parents' constant criticism, the loneliness I feel when I’m with them. But through it all, I see Ezra, reaching out to me, pulling me to safety. When I wake, I'm left with a lingering sense of unease, but also a fierce determination.
It's time to stop being the passive, invisible Willow my family sees. It's time to take control of my own life.
As I get dressed for class, I make a decision. Today, I'm going to do what I’ve always wanted. I’m going to be me. I won’t let my family make me feel small. I’m going to live my life the way I want and how I deserve.