45
Aubrey
“You don’t trust me with your heart, Bree. And I’m standing here handing you mine.”
Trent’s voice hasn’t stopped echoing in my head. It’s been replaying on a loop for days—raw, cracked, so painfully honest it carved straight through me.
When he walked out of my house, I collapsed the second the door clicked shut.
My legs buckled like someone had cut the strings holding me up.
My knees hit the floor hard, but the shock didn’t register—I was too busy choking on sobs that ripped out of me like they’d been waiting years to break free.
I cried until my ribs ached, until my throat felt shredded, until all that remained was the hollow, echoing ache of knowing I did this.
I broke us.
I broke him.
I’ve been punishing Trent since the moment we started again—keeping him at arm’s length, terrified he’d hurt me, even more terrified that he wouldn’t. That he meant it. That this time could actually be real. And now… now I’ve pushed him so far, he finally let go.
I haven’t slept. Haven’t eaten. Haven’t been able to function.
I’m barely holding on. So, without thinking, I shove back the blankets and get to my feet, the room tilting for a moment from how empty I feel. I grab the closest pair of sneakers and tug them on with shaking hands.
A quick glance in the hallway mirror makes my stomach twist. My hair is unwashed and knotted, my eyes swollen with dark circles bruised underneath them, my sweater stretched and wrinkled from wearing it for days. I look… destroyed.
I grab my keys, shove my phone into my pocket, and push out the door before I can convince myself to turn back.
The drive to my parents’ house is dead silent except for the occasional sharp inhale I swallow down.
When I pull into the familiar driveway, the wave of emotion that hits me nearly knocks the breath from my lungs.
For a moment, I wish I were ten years old again—living at home where the biggest problem was whether my brothers would let me join their backyard game or chase me back inside.
I climb out of the car with a shaky breath and force my feet up the porch steps. The front door isn’t locked—it never is—and I step inside quietly, letting the warmth of home wrap around me.
If anyone can help me pull myself together, it’s my mom. And if she can’t… she’ll hug me tight enough that the world won’t feel like it’s falling apart anymore.
I find her easily. She’s curled up on the living room couch, glasses perched low on her nose, a paperback resting open in her hands. She looks peaceful—soft lamplight warming her face, her thumb slowly tracing the edge of the page.
I stand in the doorway, unable to move, unable to speak.
She senses me before she sees me. Her eyes lift, landing on mine—and instantly, her whole expression changes. Concern floods her face, her mouth parting slightly as she straightens.
“Strawberry?” she says gently, already setting her book aside. “Honey… what’s wrong?”
“Mom…” The word barely makes it out before my throat closes and the tears spill over, hot and uncontrollable.
My mom’s eyes soften instantly. “Oh, sweetheart, come here.” She stands and crosses the room in two quick steps, wrapping me in her arms before I can fall apart completely. I sag into her, burying my face in her shoulder as she guides us both down onto the couch, never loosening her hold.
“Talk to me, sweet girl,” she whispers, brushing a hand over the back of my head.
“I’ve ruined everything, Mom.” My voice cracks, splintering like glass.
She pulls back just enough to look at me. “Ruined what?”
“Trent,” I breathe out, the name collapsing in my chest. “I love him… and I ruined it.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She gathers me close again, her arms firm and warm, rubbing slow circles on my back. “It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you.”
I sob into her shoulder, shaking and exhausted, every breath a struggle. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t push—just holds me the way she used to when I scraped my knee or got my heart bruised by playground drama. Except this pain… this one is so much deeper.
When the storm finally eases, I pull back and swipe at my face with trembling fingers. My whole body feels drained, lead-heavy.
My mom squeezes my hand. “Tell me what happened.”
So I do. I start from the beginning—how it was supposed to be casual, how I thought I could keep it that way.
How every time Trent got close, my feelings clawed their way to the surface until I couldn’t pretend anymore.
How he broke my heart. How, somehow, we found our way back to each other.
How he wanted me—really wanted me—but I was too scared to trust it, too scared to trust him.
By the time I finish, Mom is quiet, absorbing it all. Then she gives a soft, knowing smile. “I always knew you loved that boy.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
She chuckles gently, brushing a tear from my cheek with her thumb.
“Sweetheart… the way you followed him around when you were little? I could barely pry you away from him half the time. Then you got older and every time he complimented you, you’d blush so hard I thought you might faint.
” She tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“For a long time, I worried he might break your heart someday. But then I started to see it—that same look in his eyes too.”
“Really?” I whisper, my voice small, almost childlike.
“Really,” Mom says softly. “I think he’s loved you longer than he even realized, sweetheart.”
A fresh ache twists in my chest. “But I ruined everything, Mom. He’s been wanting us to come clean about our relationship for months and I’ve been the one holding back.”
Mom tilts her head, studying me gently. “What’s been holding you back?”
“Telling Kade, I guess.” I swallow hard, my fingers picking at the hem of my sleeve. “Making things awkward. Trent’s his best friend. I would never want to come between them.”
I open my mouth to say more—but a quiet throat-clear cuts through the room like a blade.
My head snaps toward the doorway, and I find Kade standing there. Frozen. Silent. His shoulders tense, his jaw tight. But it’s his eyes that gut me—shimmering with hurt, betrayal… and something like heartbreak.
“I was looking for Dad,” he says flatly, his voice rough around the edges.
“Kade…” I breathe, already pushing up off the couch.
He doesn’t wait. He turns and walks out of the room without another word.
Panic punches me in the ribs and I scramble after him, my socks sliding on the hardwood as I hurry down the hall.
“Kade, wait!” I reach out but don’t touch him.
He stops just long enough to throw a look over his shoulder—sharp, wounded.
“What, Aubrey?”
“Let me explain,” I say, breathless, desperate.
“Explain what?” His eyebrows lift, but there’s no humor. Only disbelief. “How you and my best friend have been lying to me for what—months? Longer?”
His voice cracks on the last word, and guilt slams into me like a wave.
“He wanted to tell you,” I say quickly, desperately.
Kade lets out a harsh laugh that has zero humor in it. “And that makes it any better?”
“No,” I whisper. “But it’s the truth. I’m sorry,” I add, voice cracking.
He shakes his head, chest rising and falling sharply. “We’ve never lied to each other. Ever. I always thought we had each other’s backs through everything.” His voice breaks. “But you’ve been stabbing me in mine for god knows how long.”
“Kade,” I plead, stepping toward him, hands trembling. “Please just let me explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He lifts a hand like he’s blocking my words from reaching him. “Tell Dad I’ll find him another time. I need to get out of here.”
My stomach drops. “Kade—”
But he’s already walking toward the front door.
I go after him automatically. Mom calls both our names behind us, but her voice barely reaches me—just a muffled echo swallowed by my panic.
“Kade, please,” I beg as we spill out into the cold air of the driveway.
He doesn’t stop.
I chase him all the way to his truck, my chest tightening with every step. Just as he reaches for the door handle, I slide in front of it, pressing my back against the metal, blocking him with my whole body.
“Please don’t go,” I whisper, breath shaking.
“Aubrey…” He scrubs a hand over his face, looking anywhere but at me. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
“I know,” I say, voice breaking. “I know, and I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry. But you have to hear me out. You have to.”
He finally meets my eyes—and the hurt in them nearly knocks me to my knees. “The worst part is that I’ve never lied to you. Not once.”
“Kade—”
“When we were younger, when I was stupid and messing around with your friends? I always came to you first. Always. Because I never wanted to make things awkward for anyone, least of all you. And you couldn’t even do that. You couldn’t give me that same damn respect.”
My throat closes around the truth I’ve been choking on for months.
“What was it?” he demands. “What stopped you from just being honest with me?”
I inhale shakily. “I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” His voice is sharp, almost confused through the rage.
“I didn’t want you to hate me,” I whisper, tears spilling over. “You’re my brother. And Trent is your best friend. If it went wrong, if any of it went wrong, I didn’t want to lose you.”
Silence drops between us—heavy, cold, sharp enough to cut straight through bone.
Kade shakes his head slowly, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “You should know me better than that. But you decided to lie. Both of you. And I’m not sure I can forgive that.”
The words slam into me, knocking the air from my lungs. I drag in a trembling breath as tears spill over. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, because it’s all I have left.
“I know.” He says it flatly. No anger. No softness. Just… empty. But he still won’t look at me.
My chest caves in on itself. The fight drains out of my limbs, leaving nothing but exhaustion and regret. When it’s clear there’s nothing more I can say, I step away from the truck door, letting my arms fall uselessly at my sides.
Kade doesn’t hesitate. He climbs into the driver’s seat, jaw set, eyes forward like I’m not even there. The engine roars to life.
I stand there helplessly as he reverses down the driveway, tires crunching over gravel, tail lights bleeding red. And then he’s gone—driving away from me like I’m the one thing he can’t stand to be near.
And for the second time this week, I watch someone I love walk away because of me.