Page 47 of All The Pretty Little Lies

He drapes the jacket over my shoulders, its warmth and weight grounding me against the turbulent thoughts swirling in my mind. The leather is soft, worn from use, and it carries his scent; a mixture of sandalwood, leather, and coffee.

"Just…a few more minutes," I plead, my eyes fixed on the horizon where the angry sky meets the restless sea. "Please."

Zaire regards me for a long moment, his silver eyes searching my face. Then, his expression softens, and he nods. "Of course," he says, his voice gentle yet firm. "It's your choice, Vesper. It's always going to be your choice from now on."

OSCAR

I pacethe hallway outside Vesper's room, my eyes darting to her closed door every few seconds. The black cat clock above the kitchen sink ticks away, each tick is a reminder of how long she's been in there. Hours since she returned from a walk with my brother.

Zaire leans against the wall, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. His usual smirk is absent, replaced by a furrowed brow that matches my own concern. "Oz, you need to relax. She’s fine. Let her sleep."

"I can't relax, Z. It's been hours." I run my hand through my hair, probably messing it up beyond repair. "What if something's wrong?"

Zaire pushes off the wall, his tattoos shifting with the movement. "Nothing's wrong, Oz. She's just tired. Considering what she’s been through, it’s amazing she can sleep.”

I want to believe him, but the knot in my stomach won't let me. The image of Vesper and Zaire returning from the beach keeps replaying in my mind. Her blonde hair had been windswept, cheeks flushed from the salty air. And her smile...God, that smile. It was like the sun breaking through storm clouds, bright and unexpected. A smile she had bestowed on him. Not me. She gave him something so precious that it’s killing me inside not to be the one to receive it.

She'd barely looked at me as she breezed past, disappearing into her room with a soft click of the door. That was hours ago, and I've been wearing a path in the hallway carpet ever since.

"You should have seen her out there, Oz," Zaire says, his voice softer now. "It was like watching a caged bird fly for the first time.

I clench my jaw, trying to swallow the bitterness rising in my throat. "And you were the one to witness it."

Zaire's eyes meet mine. "It wasn't about me, brother. It was about her."

I nod, but the jealousy still gnaws at me. I'm the planner, the strategist. I should have thought of taking her to the beach, of giving her a moment of peace amidst all this chaos. But it was Zaire, with his impulsive nature and devil-may-care attitude, who had given her what she needed. He’d been so close to giving up on her, while I...I gave up my entire life for the last two years to find her.

"I wish I could have seen it," I admit, leaning against the wall opposite Vesper's door.

Zaire's lips purse. A serious look crosses his face. "You will, Oz. This isn't a competition, you know. She needed air, and I gave it to her."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "She needs you now, huh?”

“For fucks sake, Oz. She came to me. Did you expect me to shove her away? After what she’s been through? You should be glad she’s opening up to someone.”

“I am, it’s just. I thought it would be me.”

“It still can be,” Zaire says, stepping closer to me. “Give her time.”

“You mean give you more time to take my place.”

“I will never take your place. Would it be so bad if she needs both of us? All of us? Her entire life as she remembers is gone now. She has no one, but us.”

Just then, we hear a soft rustling from behind Vesper's door. I straighten immediately, every nerve on high alert. But the door stays closed, and silence falls again.

"She's fine,” Z remarks. “Probably just turning over in her sleep. Now come on, let's grab something to eat. You look like you're about to pass out. Food might improve your mood."

I hesitate, my eyes still fixed on Vesper's door. Part of me wants to stay, to be here the moment she appears. I'm about to protest when the front door swings open, revealing Talon laden with grocery bags. His shaggy brown hair is pulled back in its usual man bun, and he's wearing that easy grin that makes everyone instantly like him.

"Honey, I'm home!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the house. "And I come bearing gifts!"

Zaire and I exchange a glance before moving to help him. As we unload the bags, I can't help but notice the ridiculous amount of ice cream cartons.

"Talon," I say, pulling out yet another pint, "did you buy out the entire frozen dessert section?"

He shrugs, that golden retriever smile still plastered on his face. "What? I didn't know what kind she likes, so I got...options." Even in the smallest details, he's trying to make her comfortable, to give her a sense of familiarity.

Zaire snorts, peering into one of the bags. "Options? Mate, you've got nine different flavors here. Nine!"

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