Chapter 19 （Eli） #2
I followed him into the flat and immediately picked up on how heavy it felt to be in here. The space itself hadn't changed, but the air felt thick. Like the walls had soaked up all of the trauma and now it was bleeding back out.
We stood there for a while, neither of us saying anything. I didn't want to push him. I'd already done that once, and it backfired. This time, I just wanted to be there for him.
"How are you holding up?" I asked softly.
He shrugged, and his eyes dropped to the floor. "You know... Been better."
I could see how much he was hurting. How hard he was trying to hold it all together. I wanted to reach out and pull him into a hug, but I didn't dare. Not until I knew what kind of headspace he was in.
Instead, I set my bag on the floor and leaned lightly against the edge of the sofa. "Sorry for just showing up. But I had to see you. I had to make sure you were okay."
His shoulders tensed, and for a moment, I thought he was going to tell me to leave again. But then his face crumpled, and he let out a shaky breath as his hands tugged at the hem of his hoodie.
When he finally spoke, his words came out as barely more than a broken whisper. "I'm not okay."
Before I knew what I was doing, I closed the space between us and pulled him into my arms. I was careful not to hurt him, but I held him close. Immediately, I felt him shake with the effort of holding back the sobs that threatened to break free.
He didn't push me away, though. He let me be the support he clearly needed. And for the first time in a while, I felt like I was doing something right.
"I've got you, Ro," I whispered, my voice low as I gently rested my chin on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere."
His hands gripped the back of my jacket as the dam finally broke. A choked sob tore out of him, raw and desperate, and then another followed. He buried his face into my chest and clung to me like he couldn't even hold himself up. I just let him cry.
After a few minutes, he gasped out, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”
“Hey, no.” I tightened my arms around him just enough to keep him grounded. “Don’t do that. You’ve been through hell. I get it.”
He shook his head against me as another shaky breath broke in his throat. "No, I mean when you tried to... You were right about him. I should've listened to you."
That one got under my skin.
"Rowan..." I pulled back a little, careful not to move too fast. His eyes were red, glassy, still swimming with tears. I brought my hands up to gently hold his face and waited until he met my gaze. When he did, something in me caved. I leaned in and rested my forehead against his.
His breath hitched, and he froze, eyes locked on mine. I couldn't tell if it was panic or something else, but he made no move to pull back.
I’d already said this at the hospital, but I needed to make sure he heard it this time. Really heard it. "None of this is your fault. You're not responsible for what someone else does to you."
He stayed quiet, though I felt his hands clench faintly at my sides.
"He weaselled his way into your head. I only saw it because I wasn't in it like you were. Doesn't mean you were weak. And it sure doesn't mean you deserved it."
For a while, he just stared at me. His eyes searched mine, but something in his expression changed. His fingers twitched, and I caught a hint of hesitation as he leaned in just a tiny bit.
My gaze dropped to his lips before I forced it back up. A part of me wanted to close that distance – just once, to show him. But I knew acting on it now would be a mistake. He wasn't ready. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't cross that line when he was still finding his footing.
Then he blinked, and whatever had been building inside him cracked. He let out a broken sound and folded back into me, his breath stuttering against my shoulder in uneven bursts. His fingers dug into the fabric of my jacket again to anchor himself to something solid.
He stayed like that for a long time, but I didn’t rush him. I just let my hand trace a slow path along his back, steady and constant. More than anything right now, he needed a safe space to fall apart, so I let him have it.
Eventually, the trembling started to ease up. His arms loosened their hold, and his head lifted just slightly. Enough for me to see a flicker of exhaustion settle back over him. He slowly pulled away, still shaky but trying to get himself back under control.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to lose it on you. Again.”
I shook my head. “You don't have to hide it with me, Ro.”
He gave a small, tired exhale and lifted a hand to swipe at his face with the edge of his sleeve. His cheeks were blotchy, and his lashes were still wet, but he straightened up a little as he tried to gather what was left of his composure.
I let the quiet hang for a second before I spoke again. “Do you need anything?”
His gaze slipped away to some random spot on the carpet, and I could see the tension creep back into his posture. He didn't seem to know how to answer that. Of course he wouldn't. He was running on fumes and probably hadn't slept much, if at all.
I thought for a second, and then I realised something.
Rowan had to still be in a lot of pain. Sleep would help, but I couldn't imagine he'd want to go back into the bedroom.
The sofa wasn't a great option, either, with the shape he was in.
He had that spare space in the back corner of his flat, so maybe. ..
I raised my hand to carefully rest it on his arm. "You want me to set up the guest room?"
That pulled his attention back. His eyes flicked to mine with a hint of confusion.
"So you're not stuck trying to sleep on the sofa. It's quieter back there. You'd probably get more rest."
He didn't say yes, but he didn't reject the idea.
"I'll take care of it." I didn't wait for him to answer and headed down the hall. He'd been through enough, and honestly, I needed a minute to step away and get my own head on right. Pulling a bed together was something productive I could do, at least.
The room itself was dim and a little musty from disuse, but it wouldn't take much to get it in order. I tugged the curtains open first, then opened the window to let in some fresh air. Almost immediately, the space felt more open and relaxing. Certainly less stuffy and claustrophobic.
I crossed to the closet and pulled out some bedding I'd seen Rowan stash in there ages ago.
It wasn't anything fancy, just some plain grey sheets and a soft navy quilt.
I shook them out and started to make the bed, going on autopilot as I smoothed the fitted sheet over the mattress and tucked the corners in.
The quiet gave me too much space to think.
I kept seeing his face. That exact moment when I rested my forehead against his – how his breath caught and he went still. I was right to back off, but damn if it didn't nearly break me. Because I saw it then, clear as day.
I could only guess how long Rowan must've been keeping it buried. But it was definitely there.
I still couldn't believe I never saw it when we were younger.
Back then, it was the little things. How his eyes lingered on me for half a second too long after I made him laugh.
How he dropped his voice when we were alone, like he could only let his guard down when it was just us.
How even in a room full of people, he'd always find me first.
I was so caught up with my own shit that I didn't see what he was trying to give me.
Maybe that was why he ended up with Marcus. Because I never saw him or let him think that I could see him that way. So he went looking for something he should've found with me.
The quilt settled over the bed with a faint rustle, and I paused, letting my hand rest on the fabric for a moment. My jaw clenched.
Whatever courage Rowan had left to reach for what he wanted, Marcus had shattered it. He'd twisted Rowan up so badly that now he didn't even trust himself to act when the thing he wanted was right in front of him.
It made me fucking furious. Rowan was the most gentle, patient, and thoughtful person I knew. He gave people far too much grace when they didn't deserve it and was always careful with everyone else's feelings. But he never expected anyone to return the favour.
He didn't deserve any of this. He didn't deserve to be left so gutted that the idea of wanting something for himself felt wrong.
I wanted to hunt Marcus down. Not just for the bruises or the fear he'd beaten into Rowan, but for the way he'd poisoned the way Rowan saw himself. For the way Rowan's voice shook when he apologised like he was the one who'd done something wrong.
But a fight wouldn't fix this. It wouldn't put Rowan back together. It wouldn't make him feel safe again.
Right now, he needed someone in his corner.
Someone who wouldn't give up when he shut down or pull away from him when things got messy.
He needed someone to keep showing up even if he tried to shut them out.
To remind him of who he was before Marcus chipped away at all the parts that made him whole.
I could be that person. I had been in the past. I would be again.
Even if I had to earn it an inch at a time, I'd help him find his way back to himself. I'd be there when the fear hit, when the doubt crept in, when the guilt tried to eat away at him. And when he was ready to act on what he wanted, I'd be there for that, too.
I stepped back and glanced over the room one last time. It wasn't much, but it was quiet. Private. Most importantly, it was free of Marcus's shadow. Maybe Rowan could finally get a little peace.
As I made my way down the hall, I paused outside his bedroom.
The door sat wide open, and my eyes immediately drifted to the floor.
The image of Rowan collapsed by the bed came back sharp and fast. His body crumpled at an unnatural angle, the sickening stillness, the rasp of his breath barely audible.
I reached out and pulled the door closed. If I didn't want to look at it, Rowan sure as hell wouldn't want to, either.
In the sitting room, I found him pretty much where I left him, slumped awkwardly against the armrest of the sofa. He wasn't asleep. His face was too tense for that. But he looked worn straight through.
I made my way across the room quietly and crouched in front of him, gently tapping him on the knee. "Come on, Ro. Let's get you to bed."
His eyes fluttered open, slow and heavy. He tried to sit up more, but the movement must have pulled on something. His face tightened, and his jaw clenched against the pain.
I reached out to steady him. "Don't rush it. Take it slow. I've got you."
He nodded without a word and let me help him up. Every movement was slow and deliberate, his body stiff with pain. It made me hurt just to watch him. This time, he leaned into me without hesitation once he was on his feet.
In the spare room, I helped him ease down onto the mattress and adjusted the pillows behind him until he was as comfortable as he could get. He watched me with that same worn out, distant look as I pulled the quilt up and draped it over him, then sat down beside him.
My hand came up almost on instinct, brushing against his cheek before settling there. His skin was warm beneath my palm, and when his eyes met mine, something in them softened.
"I won't be far," I said quietly. "And I won't let him get to you again. You're safe now, Ro. I promise."
His throat bobbed with a silent swallow, and he gave the faintest nod.
"I'll be back in the morning to check on you. Try to get some rest, okay? Ring me if you need anything."
Reluctantly, I stood. My hand drifted away from his face, and I took a step back to leave him to sleep. But before I could go anywhere, his fingers caught mine in a quick, deliberate squeeze.
"Thanks, Eli," he murmured. "For... For not letting me push you away."
My chest tightened as I forced a smile. "Not a chance."
I gave his hand one last squeeze before slipping free of his hold.
He didn't protest and instead settled back against the pillows with a visible effort to relax.
Almost immediately, his eyes started to drift shut.
I stepped out quietly and pulled the door mostly closed behind me, but I left it open enough so he wouldn't feel trapped.
Back in the sitting room, I hovered at the front door and glanced around the flat. It didn't feel quite so heavy in here now. This wasn't over by a long shot, but we were moving through it. Together.