Chapter 19 #3
I laugh, more out of habit than humor. “Like shit,” I admit. It’s easy with her.
She blinks at me, waiting for more maybe. So I keep going, dragging a hand through my hair.
“It’s been so long since I had a hit. Feels like my skin’s been swapped out with something two sizes too small. Can’t sleep, can’t breathe half the time.” I huff. “And the cherry on top is I found out my own mother’s even more of a monster than I thought.”
Her brows pull together. Sympathy’s written all over her face. It twists my gut. I don’t want her pity. I want—hell, I don’t even know what I want. I just don’t want to feel like this anymore.
“But you know what’s worse?” I meet her eyes. Force the words out before I can talk myself down. “I missed you.”
She doesn’t look away. The kitchen goes quiet. Sterling must’ve heard that, and he’s probably trying his damn best not to come out here and throw me through a wall. I ignore the weight of him in the next room. I’ve got one shot at this. One chance to say what’s been eating me alive.
“I missed you, Elle.” I say it again, more weight in my words this time. “A lot.”
Her lips part like she’s about to speak, but I don’t let her. Can’t, not until I know.
“Do you…” My voice drops. “Do you remember anything? About us?”
It’s stupid. I already know she probably doesn’t. The memory gaps, the blank spaces—hell, it’s been the backdrop of everything we’ve been dealing with. But I still ask. Because I need to hear the answer myself.
She hesitates. My stomach goes sideways. My hands feel too empty, my skin too tight.
Then she tilts her head a little. Her fingers get tighter around her mug. “I remember your bike,” she says quietly.
I blink. “My…what?”
“Your bike,” she says again. “I remember riding it with you.”
My chest goes tight, too tight to breathe right. “Yeah?”
She nods, looking down into her mug. “We went to a café.”
I can’t help it. I let out a breath that’s a laugh and a sigh. “Yeah, for a proper breakfast.”
Her smile tugs some more. “You got this ridiculous frozen coffee…”
That makes me grin. “And I made you try that pastry the size of your face.”
She laughs, the sound faint but real, and it hits me like a freight train. God, I missed that laugh. It’s enough to knock the wind out of me, only from her remembering something about me. One little piece of what we had. And I hold on to it like it’s gold.
From the kitchen, I hear the subtle clink of dishes. Sterling’s moving around. But I know he’s listening. He’s not gonna say anything. But I don’t miss the chill in his silence.
I lean back a little in my chair, trying to be casual, even though my heart’s doing cartwheels. “Good to know some things stuck,” I murmur. “Maybe next time I’ll bring the frozen coffee again. You know, for proper breakfast tradition.”
Her smiling eyes meet mine again. Elle actually laughs. It’s proof that maybe we’re not completely wrecked after all. Maybe we’ve still got pieces that fit. She keeps going. “I also remember watching a movie.”
I nod, trying not to grin too hard. My lip’s still split. “Yeah. A stupid horror flick with the worst special effects I’ve ever seen.”
Her nose scrunches when she smiles, and I swear to god, it’s the best thing I’ve seen in days. Maybe ever. Then she draws in a slow breath. “I remember eating in the sunroom a few times with you.”
My chest thuds.
“And Clo.”
There it is. Right on cue. The air in the room pulls tight. My grip’s hard around my knees. I don’t say anything. What am I supposed to say? Yeah, I remember too. I remember thinking we were happy in that little lie.
Elle breaks the silence first, voice coming out cautious. “I don’t remember everything. There’s still a lot missing, but some things come back clearer.”
I nod, jaw working. “That happens with Kys—what Clo gave us.”
Her eyes move to mine, and I bet she wants more than that. So I give it to her.
“It works different on everybody. Some people just get real chill. Some lose days. Some start seeing things that aren’t there. But it always messes with memory. Makes everything easier to stomach.” I pause, fingers twitching on my knee. “Like…”
“Living in a lucid dream,” she finishes.
I nod, throat itching. “Yeah.”
But she shakes her head. “More like a nightmare.”
That one lands even harder. Right in the ribs. Because the shittiest part is I liked that dream. Hell, I lived for it. I didn’t care if it was fake. I didn’t want to wake up. Even if it was borrowed—even if it was built on lies—I’d go back in a heartbeat.
But I can’t say that. So I stay quiet. Heavy with everything else I want to say but can’t. I know if I open my mouth, I’ll ruin it. I’ll make her hate me.
Right now, I stand a chance to stick around. So I grit my teeth and sit in it.
Then Sterling comes back. He sets a plate in front of me like he’s dropping off orders at a military base. “Eat. You look like hell.”
I huff. “You always know how to make a guy feel welcome.”
“Not trying to.” He sits beside Elle again.
I don’t even have the strength to be mad about it. I’m too damn hungry. I dig in without hesitation, barely chewing, just swallowing and swallowing because it’s warm, and I can finally taste something again. Maybe I moan a little. Whatever. Don’t judge.
Sterling doesn’t say a word about me eating like a stray dog. Doesn’t tell me to slow down. He’s focused on Elle now, watching her pick at her food like she’s more interested in moving it around than putting it in her mouth.
And then, he picks up her fork. Lifts a bite to her lips. And she lets him. She opens her mouth like it’s the most normal thing in the world, as if this is something they just do now. And I… I feel it like a punch. Right in the center of everything I’ve been trying to hold together.
It’s not like I didn’t expect something.
It’s not like I thought I’d just waltz back in and pick up where Elle and I left off.
But this? The way she lets him take care of her?
That was never me. In the dream, sure. In the fake world Clo built for us, yeah, I was her everything.
I was the guy who made her laugh. Who kissed her like we were the only two people on the damn planet.
But in real life? After the Kys has worn away… Guess that part’s his. So I keep chewing. Keep swallowing. Keep pretending my stomach isn’t twisted up in knots because I know that dream was always gonna end. And maybe she woke up from it. But I’m still crawling through it.
After a while, the two of them exchange a glance. One of those quiet, wordless things. I don’t know what it means, and honestly? I don’t think I want to.
Then Sterling stands and helps Elle up like it’s just what he does.
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t look at me.
He slips his arm around her waist and guides her toward the bedroom like it’s already been decided.
As if I’m not even here. Which…fine. Whatever.
I don’t ask. I don’t interrupt. I just stay put, finishing off the food she barely touched.
Scrape every last bite like some street mutt grateful for scraps.
And damn, it tastes good. So good. Probably because it’s hers.
I reach for her tea next, curious, and immediately regret it. The second it hits my tongue, I gag. It tastes like boiled moss and something worse. I wince and push it away as if it offended me personally.
“Jesus, Elle,” I mutter under my breath. “That’s what you’ve been sippin’ on all sweet and cozy?”
I’m still grimacing when Sterling returns. He just gives me a look, then nods for me to follow. I sigh and drag myself up. Stretch my arms, roll my neck, take my sweet time.
“Y’know, Silver,” I say as I follow, glancing around the place, “for one of the most terrifying mercs, you’d think you’d be paid enough to afford a better place than this wood-paneled shoebox.”
Sterling doesn’t answer. He walks toward the corner of the open den, close to the fireplace and bedroom. There, the saddest couch in existence waits with my name on it. He jerks his chin at it, confirming my thoughts exactly.
Then he says, “This is yours.”
“Oh wow. A worn-out couch. You really pulled out all the stops, huh?”
Still nothing from him. So I keep egging. “No mint on the pillow? No fluffy robe? What kind of hospitality is this?”
Still nothing. Not even a blink. I flop onto it dramatically, groaning loud.
“Man, you are no fun,” I mutter, like I’m not used to his silence by now.
Sterling scoffs through his nose and turns away, heading down the hall.
Toward her room. And suddenly it hits me.
I look around again, cataloging everything I’ve already seen but didn’t process until now.
Kitchen over there. Couch over here. Bathroom across.
One hallway down. One bedroom at the end. And she’s in it. With him…?
The thought hits cold and hot all at once. My hands flex into fists. I unclench them quick, shake them out like I’m not imagining her curled up under a blanket, Sterling nearby. Maybe right next to her. Maybe closer than I’ll ever get again.
Nope. No, don’t go there. Calm down, Stan. Don’t spiral.
But I do. Because I know Sterling. I know how quiet he gets when something matters.
How careful he is. How intense he can be.
He doesn’t do things halfway, and if he’s taking care of her like that, and she lets him?
Then I’m already on the outside of something I didn’t even get a chance to fight for.
I try to laugh it off, but nothing comes out.
I settle deeper into the couch instead, like it might swallow me whole if I let it.
This was supposed to be simple. I find Sterling.
I check on Elle. I say my piece. Maybe get closure.
But now…? I’m stuck in this goddamn cabin, listening to the floor creak beneath their feet.
So yeah, fuck it. I found Sterling. I saw Elle.
She’s safe. She said I can stay. I’ve had food.
I need sleep. Maybe when I wake up, I won’t feel like I’m watching someone else live out my dream.
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be a better version of myself.
But tonight, I’m some guy on some couch.
And at least this couch won’t judge a screw-up like me.
I let out a dry laugh. It burns my throat on the way out. Fuck it. Time for some shut eye.