Page 86 of What We Brave
"Everything's complicated!" She throws her hands up. "Life is complicated. Love is complicated. But you know what's simple? I'm tired. I'm tired of not getting what I want because other people think they know better."
She rounds on me. "You think you don't deserve happiness? Fine. Believe that. But don't you dare use your guilt as an excuse to take my choice away."
My mouth opens but I can't seem to get anything out. Probably smarter to shut the fuck up anyway.
"And you." She turns to Reid. "Stop trying to be noble. Stop offering to step aside like that makes you some kind of hero. It doesn't. It just makes me feel like a burden you're trying to pass off."
Reid looks like she slapped him. "That's not—I didn't mean?—"
"I know what you meant." Her voice softens, just slightly. "But I'm done being the thing people sacrifice for. I want to be chosen. Actually chosen. By both of you."
The room feels smaller suddenly. Charged.
"Think about it," she continues. "Really think. Reid, you work insane hours. You come home exhausted, barely functional. Who takes care of you when I'm on shift?"
Reid glances at me. I look away.
"Blake, you disappear into that workshop for days. You forget to eat. You spiral. Who pulls you back when Reid's not there?"
My jaw tightens. She's not wrong.
"We could take care of each other." Laine's voice drops, losing some of its edge. "All of us. Instead of this—this constant rotation of worry and guilt and wondering who's falling apart alone."
"It's not that simple," I manage. Though she makes it seem pretty fucking appealing. But she didn't add the last bit. The bit that lights me up and scares the shit out of me.
I'd get to take care of her.
Having the right to fuss over her, comfort her, hold her is so damn tempting.
"Why not?" She steps closer. "Because society says so? Because it's unconventional? I spent my childhood building churches in countries where arranged marriages were normal. I've seen relationships work in a hundred different configurations." She frowns. "Okay, maybe not a hundred. But lots. I really think that the only thing that matters is whether everyone's honest."
Reid rubs his face. "People would talk."
"People already talk. I filed a harassment report against my boyfriend. Blake deployed to Afghanistan to escape his feelings. We're not exactly winning at normal."
Despite everything raging through me, I laugh. "You're not fucking wrong."
Laine's eyes find mine. "I'm not saying it'll be easy. But I'm saying I want to try. Both of you. Together. And I'm tired of pretending that's not an option just because it scares you."
Laine's shoulders drop. Some of the fight drains out of her.
"I had dreams too," she says quietly. "I loved getting to be part of your family. Even when I was on the periphery. I loved cooking in your kitchen. Fixing that bathroom. Feeling like I could actually be a part of everything."
Her voice cracks. Reid shifts forward, but she holds up a hand.
"Building something real—having a family and roots—that's what I wanted. What I still want." She looks between us. "Possibly with both of you."
The hope in her eyes is gutting me.
"But I can't make promises," she continues. "None of us can. Maybe this falls apart in three months. Maybe we figure it out and it works for years. Maybe—" She pauses. "Maybe it's the best thing that ever happened to us. I don't know."
Reid's hands are clasped between his knees. Tight enough his knuckles have gone white. Is he considering this? She hates the word sharing, but that's what this would be. Sharing her time, her love, her body with someone other than him. That's a pretty massive mental jump.
One I'm not sure any of us can actually make.
"What I do know is that I can't stand here and promise you forever," Laine says. "I can't tell you this won't hurt or that nobody gets left behind. That wouldn't be honest."
She's right. Of course she's right. I know life doesn't come with guarantees.
