20. Ivy #2
“Hey, it’s okay,” I insist, wrapping my arm around her shoulders as I direct her toward her bed.
She takes a seat at the bottom, sadness clinging to her as I take the spot beside her.
“Has Archer ever been mad at you before?” I ask, presumptively already knowing the answer, and she confirms it when she shakes her head.
“No. Never.”
“So I get the feeling this is going to be no different, don’t you?” I insist, and she bobs her head, but there’s still an air of distress lingering around her.
Staring at her, I try to consider what the right thing to say or do is, but I have no experience with this. It’s usually me having a breakdown and Hugo fixing it.
I freeze for a second before my heart warms, and thoughts of my brother wrap around me.
What would Hugo do right now?
Gulping, I place my hand on her shoulder.
“Arabella, a wise guy once told me that anything you’re feeling inside only intensifies when you keep it there.
Even though it might hurt to hear the truth that parts your lips, it will get better, especially if you’re surrounded by people who are here to help. ”
Her eyebrows rise. “Did my brother say that?” Uncertainty clouds her words, and I grin.
“No, my brother did.”
“I was going to say, I love my brother a lot, but he’s not that wise.” A grin ghosts the corner of her mouth again.
“I plead the fifth,” I say with a snicker, and the air around us eases a little.
“I don’t know what triggered it,” she blurts, flipping the braid off her shoulder, and I slam my lips shut, making sure to keep them zipped as she processes what she’s thinking.
“My mom has been doing so well. Even though my father took away her license and made it impossible to leave the house, we were making the most of it.”
Rage burns through me as she swipes the tears from her cheeks. I’m all too familiar with what it’s like being a prisoner.
“None of it really mattered because he stayed away, and that gave us peace,” she continues, shaking her head as she tries to gather herself. “I should have known something was off today when the flowers arrived.”
“Flowers?” I repeat, internally berating myself for interrupting, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she nods.
“Tulips. Her favorite. I thought they might have been from Archer at first. She was so smiley and couldn’t stop inhaling their scent as she carried them through the house, but the moment she placed the glass vase on the kitchen counter and looked at the card, the color drained from her face.”
I stroke her arm soothingly, hoping to portray that I’m here for her, but I don’t think I’m doing it quite the way Hugo does, and the stress threatens to overwhelm me.
“She offered me a fake smile, but I saw the way her knuckles whitened around the glass.” She drags a hand down her face, defeated.
“We were going to paint in the garden, but she insisted I get a head start upstairs. I pleaded, but not enough,” she admits, sorrow enveloping us.
“I don’t know what happened from there, but I heard the glass shatter and the screams, and I panicked.
I made it to the top of the stairs, but one look at my mom and I knew,” she breathes, swiping the tears from her cheeks again.
“I did the only thing I could think of. I called Archer.”
“You did the right thing,” I insist. “No matter what worries you might have, you know right now that your mom is in safe hands, and from there, everything is going to be okay because your brother will make sure of it.”
“But at what cost?” she croaks, tears spilling faster, and my heart clenches. “He shouldn’t have to suffer too,” she starts, and I shake my head.
“Arabella, none of you should suffer, and we both know Archer would never leave you to suffer alone.”
“He should.”
My stomach twists. “What makes you say that?”
Silence engulfs us for a moment as she steadies her breathing. “Because he does everything my father demands already, to protect us.”
“And I bet he would do it a thousand times more if he had to.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” she grumbles, flopping back on the bed, and I go with her, staring up at the ceiling, letting my thoughts run wild as my chest rises and falls with every breath.
I don’t know how much time passes, but the comfort of Arabella’s presence is noticeable.
How would I feel in her shoes? I can’t even begin to comprehend, and I have a twisted family life as well. Or I did. Many factors have played a role in where my life is right now, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that my brother has played his part in it too.
Just like hers.
“What’s Archer like when he’s not here?” Arabella whispers, and I tilt my head to look at her.
Her eyes are closed, a calmness washing over her as I sigh.
“Do you want the honest answer or the cutesy one?” I mumble, and she grins.
“Honest.”
“He’s a total pain in the butt,” I admit, and she giggles.
“Try living with him. He’s been a pain my entire life, all fifteen years of it, and my mom says he’s only going to get worse the older I am,” she insists, prying her eyes open, and I smirk.
“That sounds accurate.”
“I’m sorry that he rejected you. I know he probably hasn’t figured out how foolish that was of him, but he’ll get there eventually.”
“I’m sure he will,” I insist. “Do you have any funny stories I can use against him? I could use whatever ammo I can get my hands on at this point,” I admit, and her eyes widen with excitement.
“You should ask him about the goose.”
“The goose?” I repeat, eyebrows raised, and she nods, grinning wickedly. “I’ll make sure to do just that,” I promise as she shuffles onto her side, loosening her braids methodically as I clear my throat.
“Would you like me to redo them for you?” I offer, and she peers at me with big, round eyes.
“Really?”
“Of course,” I insist, and she immediately hurries to the foot of the bed, hand extended in the air with her hair ties aimed in my direction.
Silence engulfs us once again as I braid her hair, making sure to be as gentle as possible, while also trying not to make a mess of it because apparently braiding your own hair isn’t quite the same as doing someone else’s.
It takes two tries, but by the time I’m done, they’re perfectly symmetrical and tidied up once again.
She mumbles her thanks as I stand up off the bed, stretching my arms out when a soft thud echoes in the distance.
Panic zips up my spine, and Arabella must sense it because she quickly stands, a soft smile on her lips. “Don’t worry, that’s Archer,” she explains when the noise continues. “He’s probably going to need you now,” she adds, and I shake my head.
“He’ll be okay for a little while longer,” I insist, and her smile grows.
“Probably, but I’m okay, and I know he won’t be. He needs to not feel alone right now too.”
I nod in understanding. “But what will you do?” I ask, and she shrugs, a yawn tearing her mouth wide.
“Sleep.”
She wraps her arms around my middle, catching me off guard for a second before I return her embrace.
“If you need me, just say the word,” I insist, and she nods.
“Thank you, Ivy. This was nice, but I need you to make sure my brother doesn’t break right now,” she states, walking me to the door. She opens it wide, her smile turning nervous as she nods toward a door down the hall. “He’s through that door and up the stairs.”
Another noise comes from the same spot.
“I feel like I’m intruding,” I whisper, and she nods.
“You may be, but he needs it.”