Page 39 of Shattered Echoes

“I’d be going into town for a few days,” Elias says. “Might be longer than that. Think you can manage without me for a bit?”

I smirk. “Fuck off, Elias. I’ll see you when I see you.”

He grins and waves goodbye. I watch him for a few moments as he walks down the road to his house a few blocks away. He’s one of the few people in Shadow’s Bend that doesn’t make the town seem so bad.

I head up to the house and slip in through the kitchen door. The warmth is comforting, although it makes me feel clammy with my wet clothes. I take off my shirt and spread it out on a kitchen stool, then kick off my shoes.

The house is quiet, the only sound is the gentle hum of the refrigerator. The silence used to feel so haunting…almost suffocating. Not anymore, though.

Humming, I brew a pot of coffee. The rich aroma of the coffee beans fills the air, the habit ingrained after weeks of shared mornings with Colette.

The sound of the bedroom door slamming in the distance shatters the blissful quiet, and I freeze in shock, turning to the sound. Colette rushes into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts, but I’m too confused to notice just how hot she looks, fresh out of bed. Her eyes are wide, and tension boils out of her like a larva from an active volcano.

“Col? What’s wrong—”

“It’s Henry,” she says, still wide eyed. “I just got off the phone with him, and he’s coming back home!”

I stare at her in confusion, wondering if there’s more. Did something happen to him? Is he okay? I do not know. I’ve not spoken much with my best friend since my forced exile to Shadow’s Bend.

“And? What’s wrong? Is he hurt?”

She has an aghast expression on her face, and I have the distinct impression I couldn’t have asked her a dumber question. “Hurt? He’s fine. Aren’t you listening? He’s coming home to Shadow’s Bend.”

I can’t mask my confusion. At first, I feel relief, knowing that he’s fine and that nothing bad has happened. Although, I still don’t understand why she’s so agitated about it. What’s got her so worked up about her brother coming?

And then it hits me. “Oh, shit,” I murmur, a knot forming in my stomach.

“Exactly!” she exclaims. Settling onto one stool and running her hand through her hair.

I settle onto the stool next to her. “When?”

“Today,” she replies, squeezing my hand. “He should be here in a few hours.” She looks at me, and I see the worry in her eyes. “Antonio, he absolutely can’t know we’ve been fucking.”

We both fall quiet, and I feel some of Colette’s distress. It was easy for me to ignore the guilt and the moral implications of getting involved with my best friend’s sister after our first few times. It feels like the most natural thing in the world.

Tucked away in this backwater, godforsaken corner of the world, we can hide from the consequences of our actions. We can pretend, make excuses, and act like everything is fine. With Henry coming back, however, I’m forced to confront the weight of my betrayal. It’s pointless pretending that it’s anything but. We both knew from the start and did it, anyway.

There’s a second, equally powerful emotion pushing into my senses, almost as strong as my guilt. Anger.

For the first time in forever, I can say I’m doing well. While what Colette and I have can’t be called a relationship, there’s still a shared understanding between us, and the darkness has receded a little for the both of us. And now, even that is being threatened, just like everything I’ve ever loved. I know I have no right to feel anger or frustration, but the fire burns hot inside me.

“What now?” I ask, trying to project a confidence that I don’t feel. “What happens to us?”

She glances at the table and then pulls her hand away, as if only just realizing that we had been holding hands. “I do not know. All I know is that Henry can’t ever find out about us. He can’t so much as suspect we have any familiarity or intimacy.”

I clench my jaw, feeling defeated. Angry, but defeated. After all we have shared, does she really expect us to go back to being strangers who hate each other’s guts? It seems like such a tall ask, one I don’t think I can carry out.

She notices my displeasure and sighs. “Look, I’m not ashamed of us…”

“Sure seems like you are,” I cut her off.

“It’s not like that, and you know it.”

“Do I?”

“Antonio, Henry is my brother and your best friend. He knows all the messed-up stuff that happened to us. All I am saying is that this could appear awkward to him, and I’m not ready to answer questions I don’t have the answers to,” she says to me in a frustrated manner. “We’re boning, Antonio. He might not understand.”

I go quiet for the next few seconds, coming to terms with the fact she has a point.

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