Chapter 3 #3
I’m left with no choice but to sit since he didn’t hand over the damn card, and I hope Teddy isn’t downstairs waiting on me because I have a feeling this is going to take a while.
Leaning back, I close my eyes and let out a heavy breath. I hate how tired I am all the time. The fatigue with the brain fog and the way my brain struggles to make sense of letters makes me wonder if I’m still trying to be an author because I’m stubborn, or because I actually love it.
I’ve never liked being told no.
I’ve never liked being told I can’t.
After Liam, I wanted to defy death. To become Orpheus and barter with Hades himself and be the one who succeeded in bringing my spouse back to life.
I would have pulled Liam from heaven and made him live out the rest of his miserable life on earth and not felt a moment of regret over it simply to prove that I could.
And maybe that is my problem, because I’ve finally reached the point in the grief cycle where I’m allowing myself to remember that our marriage wasn’t perfect. In fact, it was on the edge of falling apart.
“Are you asleep?”
I force my eyes open and fight off a yawn. “No.” Easton’s holding a massive container of something that looks like spaghetti with some kind of white sauce. It’s steaming like it’s molten hot, and it smells delicious.
Whoever cooks for these guys—whoever keeps sending food home with Easton to make sure that I get something in my stomach when I forget that eating is a thing—is a damn saint.
“I hope I’m not stealing anyone’s food,” I say as I take the container.
He rolls his eyes. “You know any of the guys would happily give up their food for you.”
So yes. The answer is yes, I am stealing, but I’m too hungry to care. Now that there’s food in front of me, my body’s reminding me that I need to feed it, so I dig the fork in and immediately sear the roof of my mouth as I shovel in the first bite.
But the pain is so worth it. Just outside of the burn is savory, cheesy, bacony deliciousness that I could never, ever hope to replicate at home. My specialties include oatmeal from packets, peanut butter and jam sandwiches, and, if I’m feeling very frisky, scrambled eggs with mushrooms and cheese.
“Can you run downstairs?” I say, trying to swallow past the slightly overcooked pasta.
Easton frowns. “What? Why?”
“Teddy said he was going to give me a ride to the supermarket, and I don’t want him waiting on me forever. Just let him know I’m getting something in my stomach, and I’ll be down as fast as I can.”
Easton sighs. “I can go to the store for you tomorrow.”
“East, I have moldy bread and sour milk. And that’s it. I’m trying to be more responsible here, okay? And I’m perfectly capable of walking supermarket aisles.”
His face softens. “Yeah, okay. I just feel bad that I’m so busy all the time, while you can’t just drive yourself to the store. I can ask Camilo if—”
“Stop.” His jaw snaps shut, and he looks chastised, which is hilarious on my older brother.
But he’s always had a habit of doing whatever people tell him to do.
“You’re not my parent, okay? And I might have a mess up here—” I tap my temple with the fork and immediately regret it as I smear a bit of sauce into my hair. “—but I’m still a functional adult.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but a second later, he gives up, turns on his heel, and marches down the stairs. I hear the soft clanging as the ring on his right hand hits the metal railing, and I shovel another bite into my mouth.
And then another.
And I’m not quite finished chewing when I take another.
“Oh my god, didn’t rehab teach you to eat like a grown-up, or are you trying to choke to death?”
My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. Shame creeps up my spine in spite of the fact that I refuse to be humiliated by that fucking voice.
I manage to swallow down the lump of pasta threatening to stick in the back of my throat, and I turn my head to see North.
I hate the way he looks. Like if Apollo were a modern-day firefighter with a backward cap.
Arrogant.
Narcissistic.
An ego the size of the sun, which is fitting for a sun god.
North isn’t smiling at me. He’s mostly baring his teeth, like at any second, he’s going to start growling, and thank fuck he doesn’t because I don’t need another reason to find him more attractive.
There’s nothing worse than wanting to climb the man you hate like a goddamn tree.
“What do you want?” I manage after my throat is clear.
“Why are you eating my pasta?”
Of course it was his. Easton was right: everyone here would give up their food for me…
Except him.
The one glaring at me now.
I lean forward and set it on the table, letting the fork fall to the side.
“I’m sorry you’re disgusted by the fact that, thanks to my brain damage, I eat like a sloppy toddler—” And I do, but it’s not my fault.
Thanks to my TBI and missing my hunger cues, my damn hands shake at the end of the night when all my damaged neurons are misfiring and my body is trembling from low blood sugar.
“—but it’s because I was hungry and forgot to eat. ”
“I didn’t mean,” he starts, but I have no room to assuage the guilt he always feels after being a dick to me.
I stand up, turn around, and walk away from those big, obnoxiously pretty eyes.
Luckily, he doesn’t follow me this time.
Sometimes he will when his words are particularly rough, and these ones were, but I don’t think he knows that.
And I’d like to keep it that way. Thankfully, I’m too tired to cry, so I don’t do anything embarrassing like start sobbing as I make my way to the ground floor.
Through the doors, I see Easton and Teddy chatting, so I roll my shoulders back and head out.
Easton notices me first, and he frowns. “You’re done eating?”
“North wasn’t thrilled that I was eating his food, and he called me a toddler. He’s probably right. I need to be doing shit for myself.”
Easton turns into an immediate storm cloud. “He did what? I’m going to fucking kill him—”
“Leave it,” I say tiredly, then turn to Teddy. “Ready to head out?”
He nods, then stops me as I take a step toward the curb. “Don’t be too hard on North. Sometimes his mouth gets away from him.”
I’m really sick of people defending him, but also, I can’t demand they take my side. This is where North works. These are his people. His little family.
I’m the odd one out.
“I’m not going to worry about it. Now, before my brain completely shuts down on me, can we go?”
Teddy tosses his keys in the air and catches them before turning to my brother, who still hasn’t moved. ‘See you later?’ he signs.
Easton grins and shoots him a thumbs-up.
As I follow Teddy to his car, I take a moment to recenter myself. Tonight felt kind of awful, but I had a few bites of good food, and pretty soon, I can get home, sleep, and start the day over again tomorrow.
And then the day after.
Ad nauseam…
Until I die.