Page 64 of Too Hostile

Because I’m an idiot. My throat aches so bad with the pain of the truth that it’s hard to speak, but I make myself. “We got caught. Well, sort of. The dean sort of walked in on us kissing in a classroom.”

I can feel her amusement, even though I’m not looking at her, and thankfully, she chooses not to tease me about that. “So, he got fired?”

“No,” I say as I shake my head. “I told the dean it was all me. That I kissed Ronan for helping me find my next class.”

She does let a soft laugh escape this time, but it’s very small and brief. “I’m sorry, honey. But wow, he really thinks you’re easy, huh? Just giving kisses for directions.”

“Mom,” I say with a warning.

She clears her throat. “Sorry. Okay.” She lets out a rapid breath. “Not funny. Okay, so the dean believed you?”

“He did,” I say, but it didn’t matter. “It scared the hell out of Ronan though. He ended things, and it’s stupid, I shouldn’t be upset. I knew it wouldn’t last. He told me that when we first started this thing, and I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

“I do,” Blair says it with so much confidence, I actually sit up so I can look at her face as she speaks. “You were thinking he’d change his mind.”

“I...” I start, wanting to argue with that because I wasn’t trying to manipulate him or anything, but I guess I was hoping he’d maybe change his mind after we spent time together.

“Of course you were,” she says matter-of-factly. “And it worked too. I saw the way he looked at you. He fell just as hard as you did. He’s just a stubborn shithead.”

I smile at that, but it fades. “He’s not in love with me, Blair. He let me go. He told me he couldn’t do it. He never said he loves me.”

Of course I didn’t tell him I’m so desperately in love with him either. But that’s really not the point.

“Oh, honey,” she says softly as she shakes her head. “I think you’re more like me than I ever realized.” I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t argue with her. “You know I love Rhys more than life, right?”

I nod my head slowly. “Yes.” I drag out the word because I’m not really sure where the hell she’s going with this.

“Well, he didn’t make it easy. I knew I loved him. That we were supposed to be together, but he didn’t know how to be loved, Fletcher. He’d been through so much agony in his life. He’d been so abused. So put down.” I nod my head solemnly because it’s no secret that Rhys’s life was hell in foster care too.

He doesn’t really talk about what happened to him then, but we all know it was bad. That he can barely stand to be touched, even to this day, and that he’s quiet most of the time. But he loves Blair. And he loves us.

That’s never been a question, at least not to us.

“He fought me the whole way, and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. But sometimes, when you have to survive your whole life with never depending on anyone else, love is too hard to believe. It’s too hard to let in.

“But I was willing to. It’s scary for me too, Blair.”

She places a reassuring hand on my cheek. “I know. Believe me, I know. But still, Fletcher, after everything you went through, you have this uncanny ability to let love in. You did with Bree. You did with Rhett. And then, you did with Rhys and me.”

“You’re my family.”

“We are.” She smiles. “But it’s not so easy for some people to let others in. To give away that sort of control over your life, it’s hard. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. It means he’s scared, and maybe you’re going to have to push a little.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to force him to love me.” I laugh humorlessly because the notion is insane. You can’t make someone love you.

“Oh no, you can’t force someone who doesn’t love you to love you. But he does love you. He’s scared. And I imagine his job is important to him. I’m guessing he was in foster care too?”

I nod. “But no one saved him,” I croak. “He had to do it all on his own. No one came for him.”

“Then you save him from himself, Fletcher.” Her tone is firm and surprises me.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” She doesn’t back down. “This whole narrative where we must be strong and only take care of ourselves. Never rely on anyone.” She waves her hand in a dismissive way. “It’s all bullshit. We are supposed to lean on other humans. We’re supposed to get love from others. It doesn’t make you weak to need love, Fletcher. Love makes you stronger.”

“I don’t feel very strong right now,” I admit.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, Fletcher. You should have been an angry, mean, horrible little man.” My eyes widen a little at that because is that what she wanted me to be? She goes on, “But you weren’t. Not ever. Not even when you were bruised from another human being’s hands—from someone who was supposed to take care of you—not when everyone and the system let you down over and over. No. You were still sweet. Still kind. Still caring. That’s strength, Fletcher. When you get beat down over and over again, but you still find it in you to be kind and brighten other people’s day. That’s the most beautiful kind of strong.”

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