Page 77 of What We Brave
"That's not what I--"
"You want me to be happy?" He laughs. It's ugly. The kind of laugh that doesn't have a single shred of funny in it. "Then stop trying to manage everyone's feelings. Stop playing martyr. I can't watch you destroy yourself for me. I won't."
"And I can't watch you destroy yourself for me!"
We're both shouting now. Circling each other like two idiots about to throw the worst punches of their lives in a living room that's way too small for this.
"You promised Jared you'd take care of me. And you've been killing yourself keeping that promise for seven years. Putting your entire life on hold. Giving up everything?—"
"Because you needed me!"
"I needed you alive!" My voice cracks clean in half. "I needed you here, not slowly fading away because you couldn't let yourself want anything."
Blake's chest heaves. His hands are shaking. Mine too, probably. I can't tell anymore.
"You want to know what I want? Fine." His jaw works like the words are being dragged out of him. "I want you to be happy. I want Laine to be happy. And if that means I walk away?—"
"I don't want you to walk away!"
"Then what do you want?"
The words just sit there. Between us. Neither of us breathing right.
"I want—" I swallow. My throat is sandpaper. "I want you to stop sacrificing yourself. I want you to let yourself have something good for once in your goddamn life."
"And I want the same thing for you!" Blake grabs my shoulders. "Don't you get it? I love you, Reid. You're my family. The only family I have left. And I love her too—" His voice cracks. "God help me, I love her so much it's been eating me alive. But not enough to watch you lose her. Not enough to be the reason you're miserable."
I love her so much it's been eating me alive.
Okay. So that should piss me off. That should absolutely piss me off. Another man just said he's in love with my — ex-girlfriend. Whatever she is. My hands should be fists right now.
They're not.
What the hell.
I keep reaching for it — the anger, the possessive territorial thing that's supposed to show up when someone says they love your person. It's not there. It's like yanking open a drawer where you always keep something and finding it empty. When did I clean that out? I didn't decide to clean that out.
But Blake's standing here with tears on his face telling me lovingher has been eating him alive, and I just — yeah. I know, man. I know what that feels like. I know exactly what that does to you.
And apparently I can hear him say it and not want to break his jaw.
That's new. And I have zero idea what to do with it.
"You're not the only one with big feelings here, asshole. I love you both too much to watch either of you suffer!"
A sound cuts through our standoff.
Laine's snorting laugh.
We both freeze. Turn to look at her. She's got her hand pressed over her mouth, shoulders shaking.
"Laine?" I drop to my knees in front of the couch. Blake follows half a second later. "Are you okay? What's?—"
The giggle becomes a laugh. Then she's full-on hysterical, tears streaming down her face, gasping for breath between waves of laughter.
"Laine, hey—" Blake reaches for her, checking her forehead like she might have a fever. "Talk to us."
She waves me off, and her whole body is shaking — not crying anymore, not exactly, but something worse. Like she's holding a dam together with her bare hands and every muscle is screaming.
