Page 80 of Fractured

A small part of me hoped they’d go on to be friends after I was out of their lives. Who knew, maybe they’d find another girl they could love who could love them better than I could.

Damn it all.

Silent tears leaked from my eyes, but a treacherous hiccup let them know I was awake.

“See, Kenzo, you’ve made her cry,” Atticus chastised him as he sat on the foot of the bed and cupped my foot through the blanket. It was such an innocent touch, but in that moment, it was everything.

“I don’t think this is me, although I could be wrong,” Kenzo said gruffly as the bed dipped. He climbed up behind me and cuddled me close. “I brought the stuff for cocktails home, but you didn’t come back until after I was asleep,” he whispered against my hair.

“I know,” I cried. My voice was so thick and watery, it was unrecognizable. I didn’t sound like this.

“Way to make her feel guilty.” I just knew Atticus rolled his eyes.

“That wasn’t what I meant, I was trying to be sweet,” Kenzo said, defending himself.

Hell, I wanted to laugh so badly, but it only spurned more tears.

“Lilith?” My name rolled off of Ambrose’s tongue, and I wanted to commit it to memory. The sound was sweeter than anything I’d ever been able to create on my cello.

Burrowing my face deeper into the pillow, I avoided looking at them. It was too late to hide it now, but I needed more time. Part of me wished they would all climb into bed with me and take a nap.

Wouldn’t that be something? To give myself one more memory of basking in the love they’ve given me? That might be a bit too much torture than my sorry soul could handle.

“All right, now that you’re awake, it’s time for an intervention.” It was so un-Saint-like, but at the same time, it was all him.

They waited for me to respond, and I almost let it play out to see how long it would take, but I gave in and opened my eyes. Ambrose’s classically beautiful face came into view. His lips were pursed and there was a wrinkle between his brows, but otherwise, he looked like my Ambrose.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asked as he smoothed his hand down my hair once more.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I nodded. “That would be great, thank you.”

That was all the confirmation he needed as he got up and swiftly left the room.

Resigning myself to meet this head-on—ha! What a novelty for me—I pushed the covers down and sat up. Kenzo’s arm fell away as he rolled to his back to look up at me. There was worry written on his usually cheerful face, and it hurt to know I was the one who put it there.

I rubbed my eyes, dispelling the last of the morning blurriness, and then sat there, unsure of what my next move would be, while dreading it all at the same time.

The guys just stared at me with varying levels of concern, and I stared back at them. When the smell of coffee became too strong to ignore, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My sleep shirt fell to my knees when I got up and padded softly to the kitchen.

Ambrose was just turning around when I joined him, the others right on my heels. Where they had woken me up with almost comical banter, I couldn’t find any humor in anything right now. As if they sensed it, they all quieted down and gathered around me at the small kitchen table. There weren’t enough chairs, so Ambrose leaned his hips on the counter closest to the table and crossed his arms.

Now that I was awake, I took stock of myself. From what was hanging in my face, my hair was a tangled mess, my eyes were puffy, and I felt like I’d participated in an all-night bender with barely an hour of sleep.

A dark and dangerous rain cloud gathered more space over my head with every waking minute. I thought the guys felt it too, because their normal—if slightly worried—chipper moods I’d woken up to had vanished somewhere between my bedroom and the table.

It was as if they all felt the sadness raining down on us in a fine mist. They were so quiet as I sipped the scalding hot liquid, that I could almost hear the cloud speaking to me. When I glanced up, the dark gray fog hovered over the table.

Sighing, I set down the mug.

I knew it wasn’t there. It couldn’t be. My rational mind said a cloud did not form in houses, but nevertheless, I saw it. And that depressed me even more.

Was this really how my end was going to happen?

I was fully aware of my spiraling and had no tools to stop it.

Maybe I should go see Lauren today. If she had even an ounce of sanity left, she’d probably gloat and offer me a spot right next to her. Her maniacal cackling was already filling my head like nails on a chalkboard.

Shaking my head like it was going to dispel the unwanted sounds and images, I started mumbling, “No, no, no.”