Page 59 of Shattered Echoes

Just when I'm bracing myself to hear him speak, the door cracks open behind me, and Antonio walks in with two cups of coffee. He hands me one cup, then frowns when he sees my face.

"Col..." Henry whispers, his voice heavy with concern. "You okay?"

My gaze cuts to meet his hooded, searching stare over my shoulder, pulse kicking up a notch at his concerned expression. I smile at him, and inhaling, I raise the phone once more and wet my lips. "I'm…I'm still here, Henry."

There's a brief silence on Henry’s end, followed by a soft huff that I recognize as the precursor to the dry chuckle he uses to mask heavy displays of emotion.

"Well, isn't that just like you, Col?" he replies, voice gone gravelly with what I suspect are unshed tears. "Always plowing ahead without fear, even when the rest of us mere mortals would turn tail and run for the goddamn hills."

A sad, watery laugh escapes me before I can rein it in, woven through with an errant sniffle. How is it possible to feel this shredded yet whole all at once?

"If you think that," I reply, "then you don't remember the way I used to hide under your bed whenever Mom and Dad started going at it."

On the periphery of my vision, I see Antonio move to settle himself close to me, not an ounce of self-consciousness in his nude form. It should make me cringe in embarrassment over having put our intimacy on display for my brother, but I find myself grateful for his presence and support.

Henry's answering chuckle flits across the line with a startling warmth I haven’t experienced in ages. "Fair point," he concedes as Antonio sidles up beside me, slipping an arm around my waist to tug me into the hard panes of his body.

He doesn't speak beyond a subtle nuzzle of his nose into the tangle of my hair, but the solace radiating from his touch is intoxicating. I let my eyes flutter shut and bask in the heady sensation for several heartbeats, concentrating on matching my breaths to the steady cadence of Antonio's.

Despite Henry’s chuckles and laughter, I can sense a tightness underneath it all, as if forced. "You know I never wanted to hurt you, right, Col?"

Henry's deep voice rumbles through the speaker pressed to my ear, breaking with a rawness that pulls at every piece of me.

"I was an arrogant, selfish prick trying to prove something to our miserable excuse for a paternal figure. And I put the one person I should have been protecting above all others through unimaginable trauma."

My throat works as tears streak in scorching rivulets down my cheeks. Henry has always been the more emotionally guarded of the two of us, preferring to bury his sentiments beneath layers of poise and pragmatism.

To hear him ripped open like a raw, gaping wound, stripped bare in the wake of his own actions... Dear Lord, I'm nowhere near strong enough to withstand the barrage of devastation ricocheting through me.

But Antonio... Antonio is. As if sensing the trajectory of my spiraling thoughts, he folds me more tightly against the solid wall of his chest, swaddling me in the cocoon of his protective embrace. His lips cover the crown of my head with kisses, stubble rasping against my skin as he murmurs a litany of soothing endearments too low and indistinct for Henry to decipher over the line.

A pillar of strength doesn't have to be some rigid, immovable bastion to be a bulwark against raging storms. Sometimes, a supple, enduring strength is more steady. For the first time in my scattered existence, I find myself able to lean into Antonio's devotion without feeling as though I'm in danger of shattering beneath the strain.

Somehow, I gather the presence to string a few coherent words together, a voice little more than a tremulous rasp. "We both had our roles to play, Henry." His name shapes my lips, a rhythmic pattern so ingrained within me that its very cadence feels like exhaling.

"Maybe Mom and Dad would have ruined things, no matter how hard either of us fought against it."

Antonio's sturdy arms cinch tighter around my waist as I take a fortifying inhale, letting my next exhale rush out in a low, steadying stream. "But you crossed a line that can't be ignored or excused away. You betrayed my trust in a way I'm still grappling to understand, even after months of distance. I..."

I falter for a beat, the weight of the secrets still lurking in the shadowed corners between us, threatening to choke off my resolve. But then Antonio places a hand on my shoulder, reassuring me with his presence. I draw strength knowing that he is with me no matter what, and I can press onward.

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to let go of that hurt, Henry. Understand, my marriage was far more twisted and damaging than even you realize."

Saying the words aloud after a long time of avoiding the subject causes a tremor to ricochet through me from head to toe. I tense, muscles coiled to flee at the first hint of danger. Antonio tightens his embrace, holding me flush against the solid mass of his body. I relax into the warmth of his embrace, comforted.

"Oh, Col," Henry breathes, sounding wrecked. "That bastard... if I'd known, I swear on everything I hold sacred that I would have come for you myself. I would have-"

His tirade cuts off in a choked rasp, as though swallowing back a torrent of powerful emotion. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled, strained in a way that has panic flaring in my chest.

"I'm so sorry, little sister. I'll spend the rest of my days atoning for this unforgivable sin, if that's what it takes to earn back your trust."

The anguish interwoven through Henry's hushed vow tugs at my heartstrings, and I swallow down the tightness in my throat. My knees wobble as a broken whimper rattles up my throat. It's only Antonio's powerful frame bolstering me upright that staves off a complete unraveling.

Pivoting in the circle of his arms, I bury my face against his chest, inhaling the dusky blend of clean sweat and sandalwood woven through his skin. The steady beating of his heart calms me as I listen for its rhythm.

"What's done is done, Henry, but we're both culpable to a certain degree. The important thing is... I don't want to lose you. Not if there's even the slightest chance we can find our way back to one another."

When he doesn't reply, I can't quite muffle my panicked whine. "Please, Henry, tell me you want the same thing."

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