40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sunny
I slam the door behind me and slide down against it, my legs giving out. The wood is cool against my back, grounding me as violent tremors wrack my body. My hands won't stop shaking.
I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I just laid everything bare in front of everyone. The shame burns hot in my chest, knowing that now they all know. Every single person downstairs heard exactly what happened to me. What Garrett did. What Levi did.
Levi.
His face when I told him I hated him more than Garrett...
God, I’d wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel even a fraction of the pain I felt lying in that hospital bed day after day, hoping he'd walk through the door. Praying he'd come explain why he left me there broken and bleeding.
But seeing him break like that—it didn't feel like I thought it would. There was no satisfaction in it.
I pull my knees to my chest and press my forehead against them, trying to steady my breathing. The rage that fueled me downstairs is draining away, leaving me hollow. Empty. Exhausted.
I tuck my legs into Z's shirt and wrap my arms tighter around myself, grateful for the comfort of it even as guilt gnaws at me. Not for what I said, but for how it must have looked to Levi. Seeing me like this. In Z's shirt, acting like this is my home or something.
Not that I owe him anything.
Seven years. Seven years I've carried this weight, these questions, this pain. And now it's just... out there. Everyone knows. Chase. Wolf. Ty. Jayce. The others I haven't even met yet. Complete strangers know my darkest moments, my deepest shame.
But oddly, I feel lighter. Like finally speaking the truth, finally confronting Levi, loosened something that's been coiled tight inside me since that night.
I drag myself up off the floor on shaky legs and move to sit on the edge of the bed. The morning sun streams through the window, catching dust motes dancing in the air.
How will I ever walk out of this room and face anyone again?
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room. I barely recognize the woman staring back at me. She looks lost. Scared.
The sounds of voices drift up from downstairs—muffled but loud. Very loud. I should feel anxious about what they're saying since there's no way they aren't about me. I'm sure everything that I said is getting discussed and dissected.
My fingers trace absently over the tattoo on my chest and the scars underneath. Physical proof of survival. At least there's that. Lucky me.
I lie back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The trembling in my hands is starting to ease. The numbness spreading through me feels almost peaceful after the storm of emotions. It feels a lot like trying to breathe underwater.
The double locks Z installed on the door make me feel secure enough to close my eyes. To let the exhaustion of the morning's confrontation wash over me. I don't sleep—I'm too wired. I let myself drift instead, away from the chaos downstairs.
For now, in this room, in this moment, I just... am.
Eventually, I do drift off into an uneasy sleep, but voices outside my door drag me awake. The hushed but heated tones make my eyes snap open.
"You need to leave her alone, Levi." Z's voice, firm and protective.
"Move Z. Get out of my way. I have to talk to her." Levi's desperation bleeds through the door. "I have to explain—"
"Explain what? Why you acted like such an asshole this morning? Or how you didn't mean—"
"You don't understand!"
"No, you don't understand. She's been through hell the past couple of days. She's finally starting to feel safe here. I won't let you destroy that."
My chest tightens at Z's words. The bed creaks as I sit up, every muscle tensed.
"That's not your call to make," Levi growls. "You don't know what we had—"
"Had being the operative word. She trusted you, and you broke it."
"I was a kid! I panicked—"
"She was a kid too! A kid who needed you, who counted on you, who believed what you told her."
Their voices rise slightly before dropping again into a low hiss.
"She's not yours, Zane."
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.
"She's not yours either, Levi." Zane's voice is calm, but there's an unmistakable bite to it.
There's a pause, the kind that's heavy with meaning, and I inch toward the door, my heart pounding.
"She said it herself. She doesn't owe you a damn thing," Zane says, his voice low but firm. "Whatever you think you had with her, you ruined it. You gotta know there's no going back. Especially after this morning."
"I was wrong. I get it. I shouldn't have assumed—"
"You think?" The disappointment and hurt is clear in Z's voice.
"I have to try and fix things. I can't let her go again without trying to make things right. You have to see that." Levi snaps, the crack in his voice unexpected.
I press my ear to the door, listening to every single word.
"She's not some prize you can earn," Zane says, softer now. "She's been through enough without either of us turning this into some sort of pissing match."
Levi doesn't respond immediately, and when he does, his voice is quieter. "I know that. But I can't just walk away. Not again."
There's another long silence, and I can almost picture the two of them staring each other down, opposite sides of the same coin.
"She deserves better," Zane says finally.
"I know," Levi replies, his voice heavy. "But I'm going to prove to her that I'm not the same person I was. I have to. Even if she never forgives me, she has to know that I never stopped thinking about her. Never stopped loving her, and I will never stop looking out for her now that I know she's alive."
Something shifts in Zane's tone, a hint of resignation. "Good luck with that, brother ," he mutters. "Because she already has someone looking out for her. And it's not you."
I pull away from the door and sit on the edge of the bed, my fingers twisting in the hem of Z's borrowed shirt. Everything's too bright, too sharp. Too much.
The words echo and blur together in my head. Never stopped loving her.
I remember feeling so beautiful, so loved with him. I'd felt safe for the first time in my whole life. Until I didn't.
Z understands silence. Knows when to push and when to wait. His presence is solid, steady. No expectations. No demands. Just... there.
God, that raw break in Levi's voice. The pain. Real pain that he didn't know I was hearing.
My chest aches, hollow and full at the same time. Relief mingles with fear, with shame. There's no way that the men in this house didn't hear every word of what I said.
And, to top all of it off, somewhere out there, someone's watching. Someone good enough to slip past Z's defenses is waiting for an opening to get to me.
I press my palms against my eyes until colors burst behind my lids. A month ago, my biggest worry was making rent. Now...
My stomach growls, reminding me I haven't eaten since last night. The memory of the dinner last night feels like it happened in another lifetime. I'm not ready to leave this room though. To face anyone. Not yet.
I don't know how much time passes before I hear footsteps coming down the hall. My breath catches and I stay silent.
"Sunny?" Z's voice is soft, careful. "I brought you some dinner. It’s good. Jayce insisted on baking you some fresh bread and more of the soup you like."
I stay silent, my throat too tight to speak. Part of me wants to open the door, to let him in. But I can't. Not yet. Not when everything is so raw and confused.
"I just, I want to make sure you're okay," he continues. "You don't have to talk. You don't have to open the door. I'll leave it right here for you."
I hear the gentle clink of a tray being set down, followed by Z's quiet sigh.
"Take all the time you need, Sunny. I'm here when you're ready."
His footsteps retreat down the hall, and I wait until they fade completely before moving to the door. My hand hovers over the locks, trembling slightly.
The scent of fresh bread and herbs seeps under the door, making my stomach clench. I unlock the door as quietly as possible, opening it just enough to slide the tray inside.
Steam rises from the bowl of soup, carrying memories of easy laughter in the kitchen. The bread is still warm, golden-brown and perfect. Such a simple gesture of care, but it makes my eyes burn with fresh tears.
I carry the tray to the small desk by the window, sinking into the chair. The soup is exactly what I need—warm, comforting.
But it does nothing to stop the questions I can't let go of. How am I supposed to face either of them? How do I reconcile the Levi I knew, the Levi who left me, and the man who claims he never stopped loving me? How do I trust the things I feel about Zane when everything is such a mess?
For now, I don't have to decide anything. For now, I can just exist in this room and let tomorrow's problems wait until tomorrow.
But I know I can't hide forever. Eventually, I'll have to face them both. Face these feelings. Face myself.
The sun sets outside my window, painting the room in soft shadows. I finish every drop of soup, every crumb of bread, grateful for a small bit of comfort in the middle of all the chaos.