Page 50 of This Might Hurt

She pulls away and takes my face in her hands, her wet cheeks glistening.

I can’t tell if her mascara was ruined earlier in the day or just now.

“What happened, Andrew? Archie said you’re not well.

” She looks even worse than Colin, pale and drawn, draped in a dressing gown over a tatty old sweater over a house dress.

They’ve probably bullied her all weekend instead of me, a thought which genuinely makes me feel like shit.

“I’m fine,” I repeat awkwardly, trying to pull away.

Every time I imagined this scene in the past three days, I pictured them all sitting in a room together, listening to me announce what I’ve done. Clean and clear, like the climax of a play. That falls apart as soon as my mother grabs my hand to pull me inside and freezes, her eyes widening.

“What…” She flips my hand over with a painfully tight grip and runs her French-tipped thumbnail over the gold ring. “Oh, no. Andrew, you didn’t.”

For the first time she looks at Jude—his hand first, then his face. I hear Colin suck in a breath behind her. Out of the corner of my eye I watch him turn and stride into the house, which means by the time I cross the threshold, the rest of them will know, too.

I hear Jude inhale like he’s about to say something, but my mother wraps me into another crushing hug, her voice low against my shoulder. “My poor boy. Come on, we’re going to figure this out. It’s going to be alright.”

It feels like she’s never going to let go of my hand again as she leads me into the airy foyer, full of afternoon light and vases overflowing with flowers.

As she pulls me toward the south end of the house, I glance over my shoulder to make sure Jude’s still there.

I told him to be quiet, but it’s eerie for him to obey.

He nods, like I’m doing a good job, but his eyes have lost that watchful, smoldering darkness that always makes me feel protected. He just looks bewildered.

Mother brings us to the study. I used to spend a lot of time here with Hugh during the winter, when I couldn’t go riding or birdwatching.

I’m not sure he wanted me around, but he didn’t object to me lying on the floor reading or watching movies on my phone while he did paperwork at the old roll-top desk he brought with him from Scotland.

Now, with the door sitting half open, I have no idea what I’ll find inside.

“I’ll give you all a minute to chat, okay?” She takes a step back with a watery smile, the faintest guilt in her eyes. “I’m going to have two more places set for supper.”

“Wait—” But she practically runs toward the kitchen, the faint slap of her slippers on the floor fading to nothing. “Fuck,” I breathe.

Jude’s fingers slip urgently into the crook of my elbow. “Andrew, take a sec. Look at me.”

“No.” He lets me pull away. Squaring my shoulders, I push the door open and step inside. Late afternoon sun is pouring through the large windows, highlighting the pale green walls and shelves decorated with Grandfather’s favorite pieces from the brands we own.

Before I can process anything, Daxton springs up from the couch where he was lounging in loose workout clothes still damp with sweat.

I flinch back instinctively as he barges across the room, towering and aggressive, reaching for me like I’m some kind of lost possession he found lying under the bed. “Where the hell were you?”

When his hand never connects, I blink and realize there’s a shoulder wedged against my chest, blond hair half-filling my vision. Daxton stops a foot away from Jude, breathing hard, his eyes still locked on me. “You’re going to fix this,” he growls.

“Dax, shut the fuck up and give us a minute.” I can’t see Archie past Daxton’s bulk, but his voice slips easy fingers into my chest and squeezes.

Daxton stiffens but doesn’t talk back. He looks me up and down in a groping kind of way, then shoves past Jude with a low snarl and slams the door behind him.

Grimacing, Archie slings his leg down from where it was hanging over the arm of Grandfather’s office chair and stretches his back.

Aside from his black sweats and white tee and the lack of styling in his curls, he looks like he’s doing much better than his siblings.

“I’ve learned he does not handle stress well,” he comments, gesturing after Daxton.

“But I wouldn’t worry. I won’t let him fuck up the business, and he’ll probably forgive you sooner or later. ”

I step around Jude without looking at him.

“Colin already told you I’m married, so I’m not going to play games with you.

” No, this isn’t right, I’m rushing straight to the end and my voice isn’t nearly strong enough.

“I’ll fix this if you get rid of Daxton.

We can renegotiate the merger without him. ”

The big man studies me curiously, impossible to read. “Of course you would do this, instead of just talking to me.” He doesn’t even glance at Jude. “I assume you brought a marriage license for us to look over?”

“Yes.” My numb fingers struggle to get the sheet of paper out of my back pocket and unfold it. “You’ll find that everything’s in order.”

“Andrew, you don’t need to sound so wound up. We’re family.” Sitting back, he waves me over with one hand. “Show me.”

He’s like the tide. Everything I try to do, every word I say, the way I thought I might finally find an advantage over him, he erases it all like I was never even there.

When Archie stands up to meet me, almost a head taller and twice as muscled, I let him hug me with no resistance at all.

I let him grip the back of my neck, let my forehead rest against his massive shoulder, dizzy with exhaustion and fear.

“It’s good that you came back,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

When I stumble back a step, he plucks the license out of my hand and sits down, spreading it flat on Grandfather’s desk.

“Good,” he says without reading it. “We’ll get the annulment started in the morning.

I’ll let you know when it’s ready to sign.

” Colin snorts quietly, glancing at his watch like he was timing how long my rebellion lasted.

“What? On what grounds?”

“I mean…” Archie sits back, playing idly with the corner of the paper. “Fraud is the boring answer, but how do you feel about duress or mental incapacity? You marry a total stranger how many days after you try to off yourself?”

My mouth goes dry, my ears ringing as I stare at him like he punched me.

Of course he’d make an educated guess—the disappearance, the unconvincing lies, me coming home injured and hollowed out.

For all that he’s big and loud, he’s brutally intelligent.

The idea of him imagining my confused attempts, my pain, makes my stomach lurch like it’s about to reject the pastry I ate this morning.

A sound cuts through the silence behind me.

My brain hears a raw animal growl, but that doesn’t make sense.

Archie tilts his head to look past my shoulder, his smile fading, and I can taste the air going dark and acrid as my uncle and Jude finally look at each other.

It’s suffocating, like the time I burned a lock of horse hair to see what it would smell like.

Jude is about to say or do something terrible, I can feel it.

Just then, the door of the study creaks open. “Supper is served.” Mother hovers in the doorway, unwilling to enter. “Let’s all celebrate Andrew coming home.”

“Is he staying?” Colin tips his chin toward Jude.

When I turn around, Jude looks pale, his jaw flexed tight. My demand for him to keep quiet is breaking him. He shakes his head slightly at me—dinner wasn’t in the plan. Do what you promised, his eyes demand. Walk away with me.

“Of course he’s staying,” I snap. “He’s my husband.”

Colin raises his eyebrows like I’m being melodramatic. “Do you even know his name? How much did you pay him to leave his street corner?”

Archie pushes to his feet with a scornful sound and walks out, cuffing me lightly on the back of the head as he passes. “Come on. We need to catch you up on the schedule for this week.”

Colin wanders out after him. The only sound left is the faint ticking of the antique clock.

Until now I had no idea how pathetic it looks when I let my uncles do this to me, because no one has ever watched.

With Jude here, the strong one, the one who’s taught me to crave gentleness and respect, it’s making everything a thousand times harder.

“Andrew.” He sounds strained; I didn’t prepare him for this.

“We’re going now.” But his voice has lost its usual confidence.

“No. I want to try again. I’m not finished.” I step around him and jog down the hall before he has a chance to stop me.

Dinner’s laid out at the long table on the back patio.

Even in the shade the air is still overwhelmingly warm, with all the wine and water and beer glasses sweating profusely onto the white tablecloth.

Daxton’s already seated, watching us over the edge of his phone as he pulls from a vape and exhales something that smells distinctly grassy.

My traitorous mother nudges me toward the seat directly across from Daxton.

I’m half surprised she set a place for Jude instead of sending him to eat at the bottom of the garden.

No one takes the empty chair at the head of the table as we sit down—the first clean, sharp reminder that we’ve lost someone. Not even Archie would desecrate that.