Page 174 of What We Break
"I won't leave. I'll stay."
Relief hits like a cold drink on a burn — immediate, sharp, good. But it doesn't land clean. Because Blake doesn't look like a guy who just made peace. He looks like a guy who just signed discharge papers he didn't want to sign.
Resigned. That's the word. Jaw set, eyes flat, shoulders carrying an invisible weight.
"Promise? I need you here. You're my fucking brother, and the nexttime you deny it, I'm going to punch you in the fucking face. Okay? Promise?"
"I promise." Blake's voice is flat, emotionless. "I'll stay and watch you build your perfect life with her. I'll be the good friend who doesn't complain, who doesn't get in the way. I'll stay until it kills me."
I don't even know what to do with that. We have a good life. Laine's going to make things even better. They just need to get over this first rough patch, and settle in to being family. "Jesus, Blake. Don't be so dramatic." I shake my head, smiling slightly. "Laine's amazing. We're all going to be alright."
"Right." Blake laugh sounds off. "Of course it will be fine."
The way he says it feels off, but I don't push. Blake's always been a little emotional when he drinks. This is no different. He'll wake up tomorrow, and everything will be okay.
"Good," I say, standing up. "And Blake? I'm going to do better. I'm going to be here more."
Blake gives me a look I can't quite read. "Sure, Reid."
"I mean it."
"I know you do." Blake's voice is tired. "But we both know how this goes. You'll try for a week, maybe two. Then Laine will need you, or you'll miss her, or you'll just forget. And I'll be back here, alone, wondering why I stayed."
"That's not going to happen."
"It already is happening."
I want to argue with him, but the truth is sitting between us like a third person in the room. I will try to balance things better. But Laine is my priority now, and Blake knows it.
We both know it.
"I should let you get back to work," I say.
Blake nods, already turning back to the mantel. "Yeah. This thing won't restore itself."
I head toward the door, but Blake's voice stops me.
"Reid?"
"Yeah?"
"Be happy, okay? Don't feel guilty about being happy."
Fuck. He's a good man under all the jagged edges. This is all going to be okay. I'll make sure it is.
35
LAINE
Reid's truck isn't in the driveway when I pull up, but Blake's is parked beside the house. I check my phone. Reid said he'd be home by six, and it's only five-thirty.
I sit in my car for a moment, doing the breathing exercise Jamila taught me in yoga class. In for four, hold for four, out for four. The past month has been easy in a way I didn't expect — most of our time at my place, where I don't have to read Blake's face for weather reports. But Reid told me Blake's been feeling shut out, and we agreed to show up more. Be around more.
So here I am. Showing up.
I can't blame him, really. He and Reid have years of history, years of being each other's person, and then I walked in and rearranged the furniture. That's a hard thing to adjust to. I get it.
And it's not fair to either of them — me hiding out in my own apartment like it's a fortress. I want a real life with Reid. I'm building one. That's not a someday thing anymore.
