She sighed. “I’m not a child anymore, Lucien. I understand more than you think. I can guess the reasons why you pushed him away, and I’m not saying they’re not valid, but—”
“What makes you think I’m the one who pushed him away?”
Belinda laughed quietly. “Because I know my brother, I know how he is about you. He’d never leave you alone if you didn’t tell him to stay away yourself.” She shook her head, looking thoughtful as she watched Aksel dance with Dylan. “You know, when I was a little girl, I dreamed of someone loving me as much as Aksel loved you. But I don’t want that anymore. Micah and I love each other, but not like that.” She chuckled. “I’m not sure I could handle being the subject of such intense, crippling love. It’s like everything else disappeared for Aksel when you entered the room.”
Lucien’s stomach knotted up. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not,” she said with a snort. “Don’t you remember my twelfth birthday?”
Lucien frowned. “Vaguely. I remember that your mother organized a huge party for you.” He hadn’t been invited to it; he had been allegedly “not the right age” and fit neither with the children nor with their parents.
“Yeah, it was a big deal,” Belinda said. “Aksel was supposed to pick up my birthday cake, but he went missing. Mother was so angry and embarrassed for making the guests wait. Guess where we found him?”
Lucien blushed, fidgeting in discomfort. He remembered the incident now. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten.
“He was in your room, feeding you my birthday cake.” Belinda chuckled. “Mother grounded him for a month.”
“She didn’t speak to me for months,” Lucien said, smiling wryly. And never mind that he’d been an innocent party. He’d only been guilty of mentioning something about wanting some cake to Aksel. He’d thought the pieces of cake Aksel had brought him were leftovers from the party, not Belinda’s birthday cake.
Belinda snorted. “I thought it was kind of funny at the time, but in retrospect, it was, like, super weird. My brother gets this… this tunnel vision when it comes to you. Lucien wants cake? He’ll get his cake, and damn everything else. He’s always been like that about you.”
“And you think it’s normal?”
“No,” Belinda said. “That’s why I don’t want that kind of love anymore. It is love, but… love at its scariest. The ‘I’ll die if he dies’ kind.”
Lucien bit the inside of his cheek.
“He hates me now, Bel,” he whispered, his voice cracking. If Belinda couldn’t imagine being the subject of such intense, crippling love, Lucien still struggled living without it. He’d been conditioned to it for twenty years; he’d grown up with it. He didn’t know how much longer he could survive like this. He felt like a plant struggling to survive without the sun. Even when Aksel had been away during the war, Lucien hadn’t felt this bereft: he had still known that Aksel was out there, that he still cared for him, and it had been enough.
Now there was nothing, just Aksel’s cold indifference—and the knowledge that soon he would lose him completely. Irrevocably.
“I doubt that,” Belinda said. “Even if he’s angry with you, I don’t think love like that can ever really fade, no matter how much my brother might wish it. He’s loved you all his life. I doubt he knows how to stop.”
Licking his lips, Lucien looked at her hesitantly. “And you don’t think it’s gross? I mean, I’ve known him since he was a child, Belinda.”
She made a face. “You were a child too. By this logic, people who have known each other since childhood shouldn’t be together. Is my relationship with Micah wrong too?”
“I wasn’t a child,” Lucien said, smiling bitterly. “As far as the law is concerned.”
She scoffed. “I don’t care what the law says—it isn’t right that a fourteen-year-old kid is considered an adult just because he got raped by a bunch of sick assholes.”
Swallowing, Lucien looked away. It was the first time Belinda had ever acknowledged in a straightforward manner what had happened to him. It was a little jarring, but largely relieving, in a twisted sort of way.
“I breastfed him, Bel.”
She scoffed again. “You helped him when he had health issues, with explicit permission of our mother and his doctor. I see nothing wrong with that, especially since he was almost fully grown, not a child. It’s not like you’ve ever considered him your child, right?”
“Of course not,” Lucien said, pulling a face. “With the way he coddled me, I often felt like the child in that relationship.”
“Then what’s the problem? Why is my brother marrying that kid while you’re being a wallflower?”
He hates me now.
I lied to him to protect him, and he’ll never forgive me for calling him a beast or comparing him to the rapists.
If we got together, the scandal would destroy his life.
I hate him for choosing my brother, of all people, as a mate.