Page 46 of When the Storm Breaks
I give him a flat look.
“Nothing.”
His smirk deepens, but he lets it go.
I walk past him without another word, head straight to my room, and slam the door shut behind me.
The room feels smaller, like the walls have inched closer, trying to close in and soften the absence of her.
My eyes land on the plant in the windowsill, its leaves now catching the moonlight streaming in through the glass. I don’t know why, but I have to keep it alive.
It feels like taking care of her.
It feels like taking care of me.
I blow out a breath, dragging a hand through my hair.
“Chase!” The word is out before I can overthink it.
There’s a pause. Then his irritated reply from the living room.
“What, Haiyden?”
“Pick a movie,” I say, resigned but certain. “I’ll be out in five.”
My words hang in the air for a few seconds before I hear him mutter, “Finally,” under his breath.
I almost smile. Almost.
Chapter 17
Calla
The drive home is almost silent, the low buzz of the radio blending with the soft patter of December rain on the windshield. My fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles white against the leather. I tell myself it’s because of the slick roads. But I know better.
I spent the entire day thinking about Tyler.
On Christmas—surrounded by Chase and Haiyden, invited into their space, their lives—and all I could think about was him. Chase didn’t seem to mind. He was just happy to have someone there to fill the silence.
But Haiyden… he knew.
He didn’t have to say much. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he watched me. A quiet reminder that I wasn’t hiding anything from him. That I never could.
I knew it would be hard, but not like this.
Not with Tyler still crawling through my thoughts, picking apart the edges of my sanity.
The harder I try to quiet my mind, the louder it gets. There’ssomething off about Tyler—something I can’t shake.
It’s not just the way he stood over me, forcing me to look up when every instinct told me not to. Not just the way his tone sharpened when I asked simple questions, like I was pushing against some kind of invisible boundary I didn’t even know existed.
It’s deeper than that.
It was the way he lashed out, like I’d hit a Jules-shaped nerve I wasn’t supposed to touch. Like my words scraped too close to something buried.
Something he doesn’t want me anywhere near.
And then there was his house. The little things.
