Mike
Jessica is sitting next to me, smiling and talking like nothing happened. This woman is a fucking goddess with hellfire inside her. My brother is finally smiling again. Nate is looking less mad than usual, and I feel like my family is complete again.
Liam has been sobbing in private for months now.
We returned home and never went hunting during the six months we were away from her.
I tried to recommend that we do it a couple of times; Nate did, too.
But Liam spent his waking hours with a glass full of whiskey and ice, looking through the window of the master bedroom.
That bedroom once belonged to Nate’s parents, and Nate has refused to enter it since their deaths. Liam kept hiding there, avoiding Nate. I visited from time to time to give him some food, which he mostly refused.
He has lost a lot of weight, and you can tell how the once-fit man is turning skinny now.
His eyes have bags under them, and his skin is so pale you would think the sun hasn't touched this guy for six months.
Which is completely true. He didn't leave once after the first night we went out for dinner.
I caught a glimpse of him crying once or twice.
Now he is smiling and looking at her the same way he did when he would spend hours watching her work.
He used to observe her with such lust in his eyes—it was the one thing I noticed when we were stalking him.
He always seemed like his heart was aching for this woman; I am pretty sure it was.
I believe he fell for her way before they even got together. I think he fell for her the day he saw her for the first time. Only that would explain why he was so willing to risk everything for her. It would explain why he couldn’t stay away, even when he figured out we were onto him.
Liam wears his emotions like a badge. Even when he bottles them up, you can see what he is feeling. He feels everything, and I always envied that about him. I always wanted to be more like him, but something broke inside me when I was eight, and I never put it back together fully.
I brush Nate’s thigh with my fingers, and he smiles at me. We don’t need to talk about it; we both know we should have gotten her back months ago.
She belongs with us.