Chapter 27 Eredine
EREDINE
I’d imagined telling someone my story, but I was only ever able to do that knowing I’d never really go through with it in real life.
Now I had to dig deep, I had to brace myself, not knowing what would happen if I shared my past with Arran.
I’d looked in the trunk on my bed a million times over the past eight years, but that was to remember my childhood, the life before everything went to shit.
I rarely let myself think of the events—of the person, rather—who destroyed my life, who severed a piece of my soul.
But I was realizing, perhaps for the first time, that maybe keeping the truth hidden to protect my safety was too heavy a price … because it gave him power over me.
“Ery? I mean, Maya—”
I waved a hand at Arran, giving him a sad smile. “I’m Eredine now, Arran. Maya Washington ceased to exist a long time ago.”
“Can you … will you tell me why?”
I nodded. “That’s why I asked you to come. I’m sorry about how I treated you on Saturday. Sorrier than I can say. It wasn’t about you. My instincts took over, and I wasn’t thinking rationally.”
Arran nodded, his expression soft, concerned.
“I never want to treat you like that again. I’m sorry.”
“Ery, I accept your apology. And I’m sorry for snooping.”
Tears burned my eyes at his grace. “You weren’t snooping. You’re my boyfriend. You should be able to look for a damn towel without getting thrown out.”
His lips twitched with amusement, but his eyes were still filled with wariness.
Preparing myself to unleash the truth, I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly, my lips trembling. I could already feel the tears, and I really wanted to get through this without becoming hysterical. It had just been such a long time since I told my story.
“Can I get you anything?” Arran asked. “A glass of water?”
Lord, he was the sweetest man. “I’m all right. Thanks. Do you need anything?”
He smiled tenderly. “Just you, gorgeous.”
I ached at his words.
Band-Aid.
Rip it off like a Band-Aid.
“I had a sister who died,” I told him, fighting back the emotion. “Kia. She was my twin.”
Shock slackened his features. “Ery,” he whispered, sounding heartbroken for me.
And that there, knowing how much he cared, gave me strength to continue. I lifted the lid off the trunk and moved aside some trinkets to take out the photo album. Handing it over to him, I said, “We were born in Chicago. Raised by our mom.”
Arran flipped open the album and looked through the baby pictures of me and Kia. We grew into teenagers in that photo album.
“We didn’t know who our father was. I don’t remember Mama talking about him, and then she … she died when we were only six. Crossed a busy street without looking. I only have vague memories of her now.”
His gaze lifted from the album. “I’m so sorry.”
Remembering what happened to his mom, I shrugged sadly. “You and I have something in common, I guess.”
“I wish it wasn’t that,” he whispered.
“Me too.”
“Who’s this?” He raised the album and pointed.
“Granny.” I smiled. I couldn’t help but feel happy and sad when I thought of her.
“She’d moved out of Chicago before we were born.
Her sister had money, and she left Granny her place in LA when she died.
Granny had a difficult relationship with Mama, so she put distance between them.
But when Mama died, Granny came and took us back with her. ”
“So you grew up in Los Angeles?”
“Yeah. It was a good life with Granny. She was strict but kind. She raised us with respect and affection, and I often wondered if Mama was really the problem in their relationship because I loved my grandmother. She was my hero. I would have done anything for her. Kia too. Even though she and I were different in so many ways, our love for Granny was immeasurable.” Thoughts of my sister and grandmother opened gaping, raw cracks inside me.
I rubbed the spot on my chest where it hurt the most, moisture blinding my vision momentarily.
“It feels like they were part of a past life. Kia. Granny. When Granny died, I felt like I lost my anchor. When Kia died, it changed me fundamentally.” My tears slipped down my cheeks, and Arran’s eyes grew bright with his own. “It was like someone stole a piece of me. Like I wasn’t whole anymore.”
“Ery …”
I waved him off because if he touched me, I’d break.
“I was the shy one. Quiet, you know. Kia was outgoing and social and all my friends were Kia’s friends.
Not that I needed them. She was my best friend.
Plus, Granny always told me I had a sixth sense about people, ever since I was a child.
As I got older, I thought she was right.
I could tell if someone was playing me false or if they weren’t being their authentic self with me, and I didn’t like it.
Granny told me to always trust that feeling, and I did.
Only a few times in my life had it ever failed me.
Lucy was one of those times. She was a damn fine actress.
“Anyway, Kia didn’t have that sixth sense as Granny called it.
She’d make friends with anyone, and I wanted to protect her from that, but I was also jealous she could just throw herself into friendships so easily.
” I reached for the pointe shoes. “Granny signed us both up for dance classes when we moved to LA as a distraction from losing Mama. Tap, ballet, street. I fell in love with ballet and Kia with street. I was so cripplingly shy, though, and some days I wanted to quit because I didn’t like the attention, even though I loved dancing. ”
My hands tightened around my shoes. “Kia pushed me. She kept me dancing. And over the years, I got over most of my shyness. When I was nineteen, I was offered a spot with a touring dance company. It was the first time Kia and I had been apart. I hated it so much, but she kept telling me it was for the best and that she enjoyed her independence, so I didn’t want to seem weak by telling her I was miserable.
“I stayed with the company, and Kia started posting street dance videos to YouTube under the stage name Cadenza. It didn’t take her long to blow up. She had millions of followers,” I said with pride. “Talented, funny, beautiful. I always knew she would shine like that. She loved the attention.”
Arran glanced down at the photo album, his fingers brushing a photograph of Kia and me at our high school prom. “What happened to her, Ery?”
I took a shuddering breath. “First … Granny passed.” My voice cracked.
“I’d been with the dance company for a year, and I felt so guilty that I’d missed out on that time with her.
Kia was on the verge of signing a TV contract to host a new dance competition show.
But when Granny died, Kia fell apart. I always thought it would be me, that my twin was the strong one, but she couldn’t handle the grief.
She decided to stick with her YouTube channel and turned down the TV show.
She was making a lot of money through sponsors and ads.
But I think she made that decision because she knew she was spiraling, and she didn’t want to be responsible to other people.
“As soon as I realized how bad the drinking, drugs, and partying was, I quit the tour and went home to LA to try to get her back on track. I moved into Granny’s with her and got a job with a local theater.
“There were so many arguments, so many ugly words hurled at each other that I wish had never happened.” I shrugged sadly.
“But I didn’t give up. I stayed and pushed, endured every time she told me she hated me, until finally, I thought we were making progress.
She stopped drinking and taking drugs. But …
instead, she fell into the most toxic relationship she could find. ”
Hatred threatened to consume me as I met Arran’s gaze, and he flinched at whatever he saw in my eyes.
“His name is Ezra Jefferson. He tracked her down after watching her videos, and she thought that was sweet.” I scoffed harshly.
“I told her it was creepy, that there was something off about him, but he swept her up in all his money and attention. They fought a lot, but it was a few months into their relationship when I started to notice the bruises. I tried to confront her about it, but she’d get so defensive and angry.
One night I was sick at work, and they sent me home early.
I walked in on them physically fighting, and she was giving as good as she was getting. I was horrified.”
“Fuck,” Arran said hoarsely. “That sounds beyond toxic.”
“I think she just wanted to feel anything but grief.” I shrugged, renewed tears soaking my cheeks.
“I’m not making excuses for her. It took her a really long time to see how bad it was between her and Ezra.
She just couldn’t see it.” I swiped at my tears.
“They were dating for about nine months, and I got in between them during an argument, and Ezra punched me.”
Arran’s body jerked, fury filling his expression.
“That’s what broke her,” I whispered. “Seeing me hurt. It finally got through to her, so I would take that punch over and over again to get that result …” I struggled to get my next words out.
“I … He wouldn’t let her go. He started stalking her, sending her gifts with threatening notes.
We tried the cops … but here’s the kicker, Arran …
he’s the son of a Supreme Court justice. ”
As if he knew where this was going, his face paled. He shook his head in horror.
I nodded through my tears. “I found her.” Images of that night, the memories, flooded me, crushing my chest with their heaviness. I sobbed, and then Arran was holding me to him as I tried to cry through the pressure of such anguish.
After a while, Arran’s hushed words of comfort seeped in. My breathing calmed, and I kept my head on his chest, his shirt soaked with my tears.
Once I could speak again, I lifted my head but kept my fingers tangled with his. “He …”