Page 29 of Forever We Fall

The game where he comes in, chats about the day, gets comfortable and then drifts off into a sweet slumber. He plays it as though he’s not planning on sleeping in my bed as he has for the past week with his covered feet by my face and mine by his.

I play it as though I’m not counting the seconds every day until he walks through my door.

We’ve done a good job of steering away from the difficult topics. Apparently, that’s out the window now.

My fingers stick to the keys of my laptop, stalling progress on the second commission I’ve taken on since Arlo had this diabolically amazing plan for my first business venture. I have to be slow and methodical with my clientele.

One loudmouth and I’m kicked out.

Inexplicably, I don’t want to leave this shitty school in the middle of nowhere I’ve been scheming to escape since I arrived.

“I’ve asked myself that many times.” I lean against the back of my chair, ignoring the code lighting up the screen on my desk.

“And?” Arlo turns over onto his belly, propping his face onto the backs of his hands.

It’s even harder to ignore the bulge of his biceps and shoulders at this angle, but it’s an art I’m perfecting. His curious eyes make it easier to overlook the sculpted beauty of his face.

“I don’t like the answer.” I laugh. It’s devoid of humor. Arlo knows it.

The edges of his mouth turn down. His gaze narrows. The striations in his jaw ripple. “Your father?—”

“Has cause to shun me.” My interruption is sharper than I intended. I hold my breath, terrified that I’ve scared Arlo with my harsh retort.

He shoves up into a plank and snaps his feet underneath him. Crisscrossing his long legs, he sits tall. Anger fills his gaze. “There can’t be a good enough reason to send your kid to the same type of place that fucked up his wife.”

“Do you think your uncle’s mother feels that way?” I’m defensive. I know it, but I can’t stop the words from overflowing. “There are valid reasons to avoid a child.”

An exhale hisses out of Arlo so forcefully, I’m surprised when I don’t feel my brow singe. “You and my uncle have nothing in common.”

“We both have dicks.” I shove from the chair and begin pacing the small room, made smaller by Arlo’s presence.

“Would you beat someone so brutally just so you can shove it up their ass?” Arlo’s voice is thicker, angrier than I’ve ever heard it. His words. His rage stops me in my tracks near the open bathroom door. Slowly, I turn to face him.

“Would you starve someone for days on end to wield power over them?” His upper lip curls into a snarl. “Would you lock them in a room with nothing but the stench of your ejaculate to keep them company?”

“No.” My insides collapse. Instantly and silently, tears stream down my face. “Never.”

“Then you two have nothing in common.” He stands and grabs his blanket. “Don’t ever forget it.”

“Wait.” I hold my hands out, barring his escape, but he keeps on coming, forcing me to choose between touching him or letting him leave. I drop my hands to my sides.

The storm of wind his retreat creates whips against my cheeks. A chill rattles through me. A chill created by the fear of losing my only friend and the best friend I’ve ever known.

“It was me.” My breath whooshes out of my lungs, and I gasp to fill them again. “The incident. I triggered her.” I turn around and find him stalled on the threshold of the door. His shoulders are hunched, and his breathing is ragged. “I triggered my mother’s bottled trauma.”

Slowly, Arlo turns to face me. The anger is gone. There’s curiosity and sorrow in its place but not pity.

“She walked in on me getting head. Of course, I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time. I apologized, took the girl home, and went to a friend's house. That way, she wouldn't have to deal with me for a few hours.” I pinch my eyes shut for just a second and pull in a deep breath before I open them again.

“While I was gone, my mum took every pill in the house, hugged her childhood journal to her chest, lay in her bed, and went to sleep. She never woke up.”

His eyebrows go up just a little, but he doesn’t say anything.

“That journal held a firsthand account of what you just described over the span of three years. Then she became pregnant by one of the rapists.”

“You?” Arlo’s voice is nothing but a whisper.

“No. She was sent away to have it dealt with.” I collapse into the desk chair, almost unable to hold up my body weight. “All the while, she maintained excellent marks in her schoolwork, graduated with honors, and then was allowed back home.” I suck in a breath. “Where her parents procured her a marriage of convenience with a foreigner since she was disgraced.”

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