Page 55 of Say You'll Stay

The dam breaks, everything flooding forward in a torrent of anguish. Mother’s machinations, her relentless pressure for me to fall in line, marry Amethyst, play the dutiful son. How she’s taken over my home, my life, stripping away any illusion of control.

But it’s more than that. It’s the insidious poison she’s been dripping into my ear for years, warping my sense of self, my understanding of love. The way she’s weaponized my fears, my insecurities, molding me into a twisted reflection of her own desires.

“She’s killing me, Jude,” I rasp, my voice splintering under the weight of revelation. “Slowly, painfully. Erasing everything that makes me human, everything that makes me yours brother.”

Judith’s sharp inhale echoes through the line, a mirror of my own realized horror. “June,” she breathes, a world of understanding in that single utterance. “What do you need me to do?”

Relief crashes through me, so intense it steals my breath. “I need you to create a diversion. Something big enough to draw Mother’s attention, just for a little while. So I can slip away, see Cara.”

A beat of silence, then, “Consider it done. When should I—”

“Now,” I interrupt, the urgency clawing at my throat. “It has to be now, Jude. I can’t spend another second in this gilded torture chamber.”

“Okay,” she says simply, resolve hardening her tone. “Go. I’ll keep her occupied for as long as I can.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, the words wholly inadequate. “For everything. I love you, Jude.”

“I love you too, little brother. Now go get your girl.”

The line goes dead and I spring into action, a man possessed. I throw on a hoodie and jeans, a laughably ineffective disguise, but the best I can manage with my meager options.

My heart pounds a staccato beat against my ribs as I crack open the penthouse door, peering into the hallway. Empty, thank fuck. Mother’s watchdogs must be occupied with whatever chaos Judith has undoubtedly unleashed.

I slip out, every nerve ending alight with tense anticipation. The elevator ride down is an eternity, each passing floor a countdown to freedom or damnation.

When the doors finally slide open, revealing the gleaming lobby, I half expect an army of guards to descend upon me. But there’s only the doorman, eyeing me with bored disinterest.

I step out into the crisp night air and it’s like a vice around my lungs eases, allowing me to breathe fully for the first time in weeks.

Now, to find Cara.

I hail a cab in a daze, mumbling her address in a fever pitch. The car can’t move fast enough, the city blurring past in a smear of neon and shadow. Adrenaline courses through my veins, a heady cocktail of fear and determination.

All too soon and yet not soon enough, we pull up to her building. I practically throw a wad of bills at the driver, stumbling out on unsteady legs.

My feet carry me to her door, muscle memory overriding the haze of panic. I knock, a harsh, staccato rhythm that pulses in time with my thundering heart.

The moment stretches, an agonizing limbo. Then the lock clicks and the door swings open, revealing Cara’s face. Shock, then confusion flickers across her features, her gaze roving over my disheveled appearance.

“June?” My name is a question on her tongue, colored with trepidation and the faintest hint of hope. “What are you doing here?”

“Cara,” I breathe, the word reverent, desperate. “I had to see you. I had to—”

But the words die on my tongue as her eyes widen, fear and concern bleeding into her expression. “Oh my god, your face. What happened?”

It’s only then I remember the mottled patchwork of bruises painting my skin, the blood crusted at the corner of my mouth. Mementos of my failed escape attempts, of Mother’s increasingly physical efforts to keep me under her thumb.

Cara’s hands flutter about me, delicate fingers ghosting over each purpled mare. Her touch is a balm and a firebrand, soothing and searing in equal measure.

“It’s nothing,” I rasp, catching her wrist gently. “Nothing, compared to being away from you.”

Her throat bobs, lips parting on a soft exhale. “June, you can’t just show up like this. Not after everything.”

“I know,” I say, a broken whisper. “I know I’ve fucked everything up, that I’ve hurt you in ways I can’t even begin to atone for. But Cara…”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, vision blurring with the threat of tears. “I can’t do this without you. Can’t be the man I need to be, the man I want to be, if you’re not by my side.”

A shuddering breath escapes her, the glimmer of moisture in her eyes mirroring my own. For a moment, we simply stare at each other, a conversation passing between us in the silence.

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