Page 126 of Wreckage

Another two weeks came and went. The hell we existed in persisted. I say existed because this wasn’t fucking living. The life was sucked out of me the moment we were separated all those weeks ago.

One whole month since she’d left.

Four weeks of voicemails, unanswered texts, prayers that continued to go unanswered, and hoping for something that never came. It felt like an eternity of hell. Nothing made the pain lessen. They said time healed all wounds, but I felt like her absence was only making my broken heart fester.

I had expected anger from her. I had even prepared myself for hatred. Hell, she’d said as much to me anyway.

But I hadn’t expected nothing.

And somehow, nothing was so much fucking worse than anger. At least in anger, she spoke to us. In nothing, it was just a vast abyss of hopelessness.

Chase finally came backwith an update. It took him way too fucking long. Each time Troy would text and ask, he’d say he didn’t have anything, and she hadn’t been seen on campus. When we asked Dad, he said she was safe and resting at home. Her ankle was bothering her, and she was finishing her classes online.

I eagerly waited while Troy read the text. He handed it over to me. I expected him to say she was at her favorite coffee shop and a photo of her drinking that latte with the whipped cream she loved. At least, I thought she loved it. I always saw her with it. Instead, it was the same shit as always.

Chase: She still hasn’t been on campus.

My stomach sank.

She wasn’t avoiding just us. She was avoiding everything. To hell with online classes. This was more than that. This wasn’t like her. It wasn’t Elena. She hung out with Zara Phillips. There was no way the pair weren’t at least getting pizza or cups of coffee. Just no fucking way.

That realization had my pulse racing and my gut twisting with dread.

I went to Dad, hoping he’d have something—anything—for me.

“Have you talked to her?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He hesitated. That single pause told me everything I needed to know.

“Dad, come on. We haven’t heard anything from her. Please. Just… anything?”

He sighed, crossing his arms.

“I have,” he admitted. “She’s… taking some time to herself.”

I clenched my jaw, my hands balling into fists.

That wasn’t good enough. I was sick of the runaround.

I said as much.

“I don’t believe that for a moment. I know her. She’s hiding.”

She wasn’t just taking time. She was disappearing. She was slipping away. My biggest fucking fear.

I was helpless to stop it.

“Dad, I love her. Like, she’s more than my stepsister to me. To Troy. Please?—”

“Adrian, I don’t need to know the details of what happened after the accident. Whatever it was, though, was done out of human instinct, out of fear. She knows this. You need to understand it, too. I know you think you have feelings beyond what a normal brother and sister have?—”

I shook my head at him. “It’snotout of trauma. I’m sick of hearing that. I loved her before that accident. I was just too much of an idiot to do anything about it. Don’t gaslight me into thinking it meant nothing. I know how I feel.” I pounded my chest. “I can’t stop feeling it. It was real.”

He gave me a sad look and nodded. “You’re right. That was wrong of me to say. If you say you love her, if Troy says he does, then…” He looked away. “Then respect her. Let her choose. Don’t force her to do it. That’s how you lose a good woman.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Is—did you make Mom choose?” He’d never really told me the story of Mom. I never pushed for it either, scared of what the tale would even be.

“I did, but it was for the best. It’s better to tear off the band-aid sometimes. This isn’t that situation. This is Elena. If you love her like you say you do, if Troy loves her, give her the time she’s asking. When she’s ready, she will come to you.”

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