Page 281 of What We Brave
He holds his hand out to Mom. She takes it. Stands. Wipes her face with her sleeve. Looks at me one more time — a long look, a look that holds everything she hasn't said and everything she can't say and everything I'm terrified she never will —
And then she turns and lets Dad lead her toward their house.
I watch them go. Two silhouettes in the dark. Mom's hand gripping Dad's arm. Dad's shoulders set, carrying her weight the way he always has.
I watch them until they disappear into the darkness, but they don't look back, no matter how much I want them to.
52
BLAKE
The door closes and she's on me.
Not kissing — not yet. Just fisting my shirt, forehead pressed to my chest, whole body shaking.
"Hey." I grip her arms. "Breathe."
"I can't?—"
"You can. Through your nose. Slow."
She tries. Hitches. Reid's behind her — the lock clicks, shoes hit the floor — then his hand lands on her back, wide and steady between her shoulder blades.
"You did it," he says. "It's done."
"Did you see herface?—"
"I saw it."
"She looked at me like I was—" Her voice cracks. She pulls back, looks up at me. Face wrecked — eyes swollen, cheeks blotched, tears cutting through firelight grime. "I'm sorry. Blake, I'm so sorry?—"
"Laine—"
"For the last two days. Forour friend Blake—" Crying harder now, words spilling fast and raw. "For making you sleep on the other side of the room, for making you invisible,for all of it?—"
"Stop." I cup her face. Skin hot and damp under my palms. "It's done."
"But I?—"
"It's done." I hold her eyes. Need her to hear this. "You did what you had to do. And it's over now." Thumbs brush her cheekbones. "All of it."
She stares at me. Breath still ragged but something shifts behind her eyes — like maybe she's actually hearing me. Like maybe she can let it go.
"Tell me you're real," she whispers.
"I'm real."
"Tell me this is real. That I didn't just blow up my entire family for something?—"
"It's real." My hands tighten on her face. "We're real. This doesn't go away."
She kisses me.
Not gentle. Not careful. Kisses me like she's trying to crawl inside my skin, hands dragging up my chest, pulling me down. Teeth and salt and smoke — and the thing I've been keeping locked for two days cracks wide open. Two days of the wrong chair, the wrong side of the room,our friend Blake.
Two days watching Reid touch her while I kept my hands in my pockets. Two days swallowing the wordmineevery time she laughed at something someone else said.
Reid's hand moves from her back to my arm. Fingers curl around my bicep. Not pulling. Just there.
