Page 76 of Stick Handled

“Rowan,” I say, my voice trembling. “How could you do this?”

The words hang in the air, thick and heavy, like I’m pulling the trigger on something I can’t take back.

Rowan opens his mouth, panic in his eyes.

“Avery,” he says, his voice low and defensive. “I did what I had to do to protect you.” I can’t believe he’s still repeating the same bullshit.

“Really?” I drawl, disbelief lacing my voice. “Let me tell you something.” I take a step forward, my eyes never leaving his. “That man,” I point to Damien, who’s still looking at me, eyes filled with alarm and pain, “did so much for me during my time here. He helped me find my love for skating again, something you never gave me the chance to do. He taught me how to love myself. I woke up in his bed today feeling happier than I’ve ever been. And it’s because of him.” My voice cracks, raw emotion spilling out before I can stop it. “I know how hard you’ve tried to pry me open from my shell. Damien knew it, too, and he came in, took my hand, and walked me out of it. If I were you, I would be thanking him right now, not… this.” I motion between them. I take a deep breath, shaking my head. “You think you did the right thing, but you fucked everything up.”

Rowan flinches like I’ve slapped him. I’ve never cursed in front of him. His face tightens, guilt starting to creep in, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment. Finally, he exhales a long breath, his hands dropping to his sides.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admits, his voice low.

“You didn’t think about how I felt or how Damien felt. You didn’t think about what I wanted. You just assumed what was best for me. Because that’s what you always do.”

Damien, standing off to the side, finally steps in.

“Avery—” he starts, but I stop him, turning to face him fully.

“Damien, just… let me,” I say, holding up a hand. I need to do this. I turn back to Rowan, my heart hammering in my chest. “You’ve hurt me tonight, Rowan. You’ve hurt me more than you’ll ever understand. And you’ve hurt Damien. I understand your need to always have things under control. I know you didn’t have ill intentions, but by God, Rowan, this isn’t the way. You have to let me live my life. What was your plan after breaking my heart on purpose? Go buy me ice cream and pat my back?”

For a moment, Rowan doesn’t say anything. He just watches me with a pained expression.

And then, finally, he speaks, his voice small. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, big time.” I nod, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes.

Rowan’s shoulders slump, and for the first time tonight, his bravado cracks. His eyes drop to the floor, and I can see the guilt written all over his face. He runs a hand through his hair, frustration and regret clearly battling inside him.

“Avery,” he says, his voice quiet, almost broken. He lifts his gaze to meet mine, and there’s no denying the remorse in his eyes now. “I screwed up. You’ve always been so closed off, so damn guarded. You never let anyone in, and then here comes Damien.” He lets out a shaky breath. “He’s everything you’re not. He’s loud. He’s messy. He can be a real dick if he wants to, and I thought… I thought it would blow up in your face."

I stand there, speechless, letting his words sink in. Rowan’s usually so in control, so sure of himself. To see him like this, vulnerable and regretful, is like watching a pillar crack.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Rowan continues, his voice rough. “I didn’t want you to fall for someone who could break you, someone who might not stick around. I thought it would be better if I just… took the choice away from you before it got too far.”

I want to yell at him, to scream that he can’t keep controlling my life like this. But then I remember the way he’s looking at me. The guilt. The regret. He loves me more than anything in the world, and what he did was wrong, and he knows it. Keeping me away from the rink was wrong. Keeping me away from Damien was wrong like saving your favorite stickers for the right moment when you’re a child. Suddenly, you’re grown, the glue on them has dried out, and they become useless.

“I’m not a sticker,” I murmur.

“What?” he asks, a bit confused.

“You’re so damn scared of me getting hurt,” I say softly, my voice cracking. “But you don’t see that you’re the one who’s been keeping me from living. How many times did you fail, get hurt, and get back up again? Do you think someone can walk through life without these things?”

Rowan’s eyes well up, and for a moment, I think he’s about to break. His voice trembles when he speaks again.

“I love you more than anything. I just want you to be happy. I don’t know how to let go. But I realize now that I don’t get to make that choice for you. You’re my little sister, and I’ll always protect you. But you’re not mine to protect like that. I should have trusted you more, and I’m sorry.”

I look at Damien, his stance still tense, but his eyes are soft, watching Rowan with a kind of hope.

“You should have trusted me,” I agree. “I would never choose someone who doesn’t feel right for me. And Damien? He’s the one who taught me to take risks, to love myself, to let go of the fear. And somehow, through all the shit that’s gone down, he didn’t give up. Look at him, Rowan. After all the shit you gave him, Damien’s still here. He hasn’t run away. He’s here, and he’s fighting for me. Do you think he would have done that if he didn’t care?”

The men exchange a long look before Rowan turns back to me.

“I can’t undo what I’ve done,” he says, stepping closer, his voice thick with emotion. “But I can try to make it right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. Please, let me make it right.”

My chest tightens, and despite the anger I still feel, I know I can forgive him. I can see that he was only trying to protect me in his own twisted way. It’s not right, but it’s real. I nod, hot tears streaming down my face again.

Rowan looks like he’s going to say something else, but instead, he pulls me into a tight hug, the kind that says everything without words. He doesn’t say “sorry” again, but I feel it in the way he holds me, in the way his arms tighten around me, as if he’s trying to make up for all the wrong he’s done.

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