Page 62 of Edge of Unbroken

“I just… I really didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t know why I said what I said. I don’t think Ran would cheat on you or anything,” she tells me, her eyes still swollen and red, her face blotchy from her tears.

“And I’m sorry for how the evening turned out. I didn’t mean to tattle on you. I just wanted to talk to Stevie to reassure myself.” I feel guilty for how things ended between Steve and Vada tonight. It wasn’t my intention for Steve to become angry and lash out at Vada. I truly only meant to gather some information, to ease my mind.

“I shouldn’t have even given you a need to talk to Steve about it,” Vada says quietly. “I don’t know what made me say it. I didn’t want to hurt you or make you worry.”

“Vada, I know. I promise, it’s okay.”

She takes a deep breath which stutters in her chest. “Stevie and I… we’re not doing good,” she says, the words coming out forced, like it takes a lot for her to say them out loud, to admit this to herself and me.

“Oh, Vada.” I study her face. The taillights from the car in front of us reflect in her tears; they look like little rivulets of blood making their way down her porcelain skin.

Her bottom lip quivers. “We didn’t go to the movies on Tuesday. He canceled at the last minute. He’s just… I don’t know. We’re fighting so much, and… he’s so… on edge and irritable. The smallest things set him off now. It’s like I can’t do anything right.”

“No, Vada, this has nothing to do with you. I think… I think he’s just really struggling right now,” I say, wishing so badly to ease her heartache.

She shakes her head, the despair carved into her beautiful features. “We haven’t had sex since Christmas.” Fresh tears spill from her tired eyes. “He doesn’t even want to touch me.”

I reach for her forearm, resting my hand there. “Vada, I promise this has nothing to do with you. I think he’s having a really hard time with what happened to Ran and he’s just not coping very well. I told him that maybe he should consider getting some help.”

Vada briefly diverts her gaze from the road to me. “Like… a therapist?”

I nod. “Yeah. I think he has his own trauma he needs to work through, you know? I mean, think about it: he walked in on his own mom beating the life out of his little brother. Literally. He thought his brother died right in his arms. And then it turns out that Ran was being abused for years all while Steve lived in the same house. It happened right under his nose, and he never even knew. That’s trauma, and I imagine a ton of guilt, too.”

A frown settles on her brow. “I never even thought about that. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”

“No, you’re not!”

She sighs, unconvinced. “I wish he’d talk to me, let me know what’s going on in his head.”

I exhale deeply, my chest deflating like a sad birthday balloon. This is a sentiment I share; Ronan didn’t talk to me about the things that obviously deeply affected him either. I don’t know if that’s a guy thing or if it’s unique to the Soult brothers.

“You know how you told me the best thing we can do for Ran right now is to be there for him? Just remind him that he’s loved?” I ask.

Vada nods.

“Maybe that’s all we can do for Stevie right now, too. That and encourage him to get some help.”

“Maybe,” she agrees half-heartedly.

We fall silent, each retreating into the isolation of our own heads, our thoughts and worries. It’s so tough going through something earth-shattering together. On the one hand I share this deep pain with some of my closest friends, and that is an incredible gift. I’m not alone in missing Ronan, in worrying about him. On the other hand, each of us is desperately trying to carry our own atlas stones, struggling with the heaviness of it all, and that makes us reluctant to add more pain, more worry, more burden to each other’s fragile shoulders and, in some respects, leaves us all alone together.

Ronan

Sterling’s is loud and lively, reminding me so much of a typical Saturday night at Murphy’s. It makes me homesick.

It takes no time at all for Devin and Tensley to get deep into conversation with Miranda, asking her about her musical endeavors. Elias keeps getting up to order more drinks for the four of them.

Miranda mostly nurses her glass of water—no ice—while only taking occasional sips of her whiskey sour. Devin, Tensley, and Elias, on the other hand, don’t hold back and quickly go from leisurely sipping their beers to pounding back shots of tequila, with Devin and Tensley eventually doing body shots off each other.

“So, Randi, are you seeing anyone right now?” Elias asks, his speech slow, eyes hooded and glassy as they scroll from her face to her chest where they linger.

Miranda grins at him. “No, are you?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Nope. I’ve never been in a relationship, actually,” he says with a huff before putting his glass of water to his lips.

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?” Miranda asks incredulously.

“Nope. Never had sex either,” he slurs, then decides to switch from water to his warm beer. I wonder if he would’ve disclosed this info to Miranda had it not been for the five—maybe six—drinks he’s already consumed.

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