Chapter 191 - 0191: I Got Scared

Chapter 191: Chapter 0191: I Got Scared

Elena’s Point Of View

The apartment was too quiet.

Not just empty-room quiet, but the heavy, suffocating kind that pressed against my skin and hummed in my ears like a live wire. It settled into the corners and pooled around my ankles, a silence so complete I could hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.

I stood smack in the middle of the living room, my two massive hardshell suitcases sitting unopened by the front door, looking like bulky plastic monuments to my utter failure of a life. My purse was still slung over my shoulder, weighing me down like an anchor pulling me straight to the bottom of the ocean. I hadn’t even had the energy to set it down.

The walls were a blinding, pristine white, so stark they seemed to swallow whatever warmth I had left in me. The furniture was sleek, angular, and deeply uncomfortable-looking, and the whole place smelled faintly of artificial lemon cleaner and lingering dust.

It was a blank slate, a showroom rather than a home. A place waiting for a real person to inhabit it, not a ghost running away from a shattered marriage and whatever the hell had almost happened with Jaxx. I wondered, standing there, if I even qualified as a real person anymore, or if I’d become something thinner and less substantial somewhere between Graham’s confession and Jaxx’s penthouse.

I kicked off my heels, one and then the other. The sharp clack-clack of leather on hardwood echoed way too loudly in the hollow space, bouncing off the bare walls like an accusation. My bare feet sank into the thick carpet as I dragged myself toward the couch, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if my own body had decided grief came with gravity.

The cool leather felt smooth beneath my trembling fingers as I traced the edge of the armrest, my mind spinning so fast I felt dizzy. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I’d felt steady on my feet. I couldn’t.

Then my phone buzzed in my purse. The sudden vibration made me jump a foot in the air, my heart lurching painfully against my ribs.

I fished the device out, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped it onto the floor. The screen lit up with notification after notification from the family group chat... the one hilariously titled The Dysfunction Junction. Just seeing the name made something in my chest twist, half fondness, half fresh grief for the version of myself who used to laugh at that name without a second thought.

Heather: Hey, big sis! You alive? You haven’t sent a meme in four days. Dave thinks you were eaten by bears.

Dave: I said abducted by aliens, actually. But seriously, El. You good?

Heather: El? Helloooo? Don’t make me track your location.

I stared at the screen, my throat closing up. A huge part of me wanted to type out the usual lie: I’m great! Just busy with work! Love you guys! I wanted to put on the brave elder-sister face, the one I’d been wearing since I was ten years old and our mother had first taught me that falling apart wasn’t an option for the oldest.

But I couldn’t. I was completely empty. There was nothing left in me to perform with. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a long, painful moment before I typed out three simple words:

Me: I’m not fine.

The response was instantaneous. It was like they were sitting on their phones waiting for me to crack.

Heather: WHERE ARE YOU.

Dave: Send the drop. We’re rolling out.

Heather: If this is about Graham I swear to God I am grabbing the crowbar from the trunk.

Dave: I have the baseball bat. El, address. NOW.

A shaky, half-broken laugh escaped my chest, surprising me with how quickly it came. My shoulders slumped as a tiny sliver of relief cut through the ice in my veins.

Me: I moved. Here’s the new place.

I dropped my pin.

Heather: 7 minutes. Keep your doors locked till we get there.

Dave: 5 minutes if Heather lets me blow through this red light.

Heather: DAVE DO NOT SPEED I WILL HIT YOU WITH MY SHOE.

I set the phone down on the glass coffee table, the screen still flickering with their chaotic back-and-forth. For the first time since I’d walked out of Jaxx’s luxury high-rise suite... leaving behind his heated gaze, his confusing gentle hands, and his infuriatingly comforting presence, I felt something warm blossom in my chest. It was small, barely a flicker, but it was there.

They were annoying, intrusive, and completely unhinged. But they were mine, and right now, that felt like the only solid thing left in my world.

Five minutes later, a furious pounding echoed off the front door, accompanied by muffled shouting from the hallway.

"Open up! It’s the SWAT team! Or the FBI! Whichever one sounds more dramatic!" Dave’s voice bellowed through the wood.

"Move out of the way, bonehead, you’re blocking the peephole!" Heather snapped. "Elena! Open the door!"

I dragged myself off the couch, my bare feet silent against the floor as I hurried over, my pulse quickening with something that almost resembled hope. The second I unlocked the deadbolt and turned the knob, the door flew inward, nearly taking my nose off with it.

Before I could even blink, two pairs of arms clamped around me in an aggressive, claustrophobic group hug.

Heather smelled like vanilla perfume and panic. Dave smelled like cheap gas-station coffee and laundry detergent. They squeezed me so hard my ribs gave a pathetic little pop, but I didn’t pull away. I let myself sink into it, let myself be held together by two people who had never once, in twenty-eight years, let me hit the ground alone.

"Easy, you maniacs!" I squeaked out, my voice completely muffled against Heather’s denim jacket. "Air! I need air!"

Heather pulled back just enough to grab my face with both hands, squishing my cheeks together while her sharp eyes scanned my face like a forensic scientist analyzing a crime scene. "Look at you! You’re pale! Have you eaten? You look like a Victorian orphan!"

Dave, meanwhile, refused to break physical contact. He wrapped his arms around my waist from the side, resting his heavy chin directly on my shoulder like an eighty-pound golden retriever. "I missed you, El. You smell like moving boxes."

"Dave, get off, you’re suffocating me," I wheezed, trying to elbow him in the ribs, though a small, unexpected smile tugged at my lips despite everything. "Since when did you become so clingy?"

"Since you disappeared for a week and stopped replying to my hilarious TikToks," Dave muttered stubbornly, pressing his cheek harder against my shoulder. "Deal with it. I’m anchored."

Heather rolled her eyes, reached over, and delivered a swift, ringing smack to the back of Dave’s head. "Let go of her, you oversized leech. She can barely stand!"

"Ow! What the hell, Heather?!" Dave yelped, finally detaching himself to rub his scalp, glaring at her with dark, offended eyes. "Violence? In this economy? El, tell her she can’t assault me!"

"You deserve it, dork," Heather huffed, tossing her dark, chaotic curls over her shoulder as she pushed past us straight into the apartment. She threw her purse onto the kitchen counter and looked around, her lips curling in disgust. "Jesus, Elena. Did you move into an interrogation room? Where is your stuff? Where are the plants? Where is the color?"

"I moved in three hours ago, Heather," I said, finally closing the front door and leaning back against it, grateful for something solid at my spine.

"Not an excuse. A single fern would make this look less like a CIA safe house." She marched toward the kitchen, pulling open cabinets at random. "Where’s the wine? Please tell me you have wine. If I had to endure Dave’s driving without a reward at the end, I’m jumping off the balcony."

"Hey! My driving is cinematic!" Dave protested, flopping dramatically onto my couch and sticking his feet up on the pristine coffee table.

"Get your gross socks off my table!" I yelled, snatching a couch cushion and chucking it straight at his head. It hit him square in the face, and for one brief, blessed moment, I forgot to feel broken.

"Bullseye!" Heather cheered from the kitchen. "Do it again!"

Dave threw the pillow back, catching me in the stomach, grinning like an idiot. "You hit like a feather, El. Anyway, where’s the food? My stomach is making sounds like a dying engine."

"I don’t have food," I admitted, walking into the kitchen area and leaning against the island. "I don’t have wine. I literally have half a carton of orange juice, a bottle of tap water, and a jar of mustard."

"A jar of mustard," Heather repeated, staring into my empty refrigerator with profound sadness. "Who hurt you?"

"Graham," Dave said from the couch, his voice dropping three octaves, the humor instantly vanishing from his eyes.

The room went dead silent. The sudden shift in energy was staggering, like someone had sucked all the air out through a vent.

Heather slowly closed the fridge door. She looked at me, her usual sharp, sarcastic edge dissolving into pure, unadulterated concern. "Elena... talk to us. What happened? You just vanished from the house you shared with him. His mom called me two days ago asking where you were, and I told her to go kick rocks, but... what did he do?"

I sucked in a shaky breath, the cold reality of my life crashing back over me like a tidal wave. My hands found the cold granite edge of the kitchen island, gripping it so hard my knuckles turned white. The fluorescent kitchen light suddenly felt too bright, too clinical, like an interrogation room built specifically for the unraveling of my life.

"Come sit down," Dave said softly, his voice totally devoid of its usual foolishness. He swung his legs off the table and patted the space beside him on the sofa.

I walked over on numb legs and sank onto the cushions. Heather grabbed a dining chair, dragged it right in front of the couch, and sat down, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, her eyes never leaving my face.

"Just start from the beginning," Heather whispered. "Take your time."

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, staring at my hands in my lap, unable to meet either of their gazes. "He... he proposed an open marriage."

Dave literally flinched. "He proposed a what?"

"An open marriage," I repeated, my voice hollow. "Because apparently, our vows were just suggestions to him. But that’s not even the best part. He didn’t just ask for one out of nowhere. He brought her into our house."

Heather gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "No. No, he didn’t."

"He did," I said, a bitter, awful laugh escaping my lips. "Remember the ’distant cousin’ from out of town he was always helping with her rent? The one I told you, he was constantly texting at two in the morning?"

"The one I said looked at him like he was a prime rib steak at Thanksgiving?" Heather snapped, her eyes flashing with sudden, violent fury. "I knew it! I told you she wasn’t his freaking cousin!"

"She’s not," I whispered, tears beginning to burn behind my eyelids. "They’ve been sleeping together for over a year. Right under my nose. In our bed when I was away on business trips. And... she’s pregnant, guys. She’s carrying his baby."

"I’m going to murder him," Dave said softly.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t raise his voice. He just spoke in this terrifying, flat tone, his hands curling into tight, white-knuckled fists on his thighs, his jaw tight enough to crack. "I am going to get in my car, drive to his office, and break his jaw."

"Dave, sit down," I choked out, reaching over to touch his arm.

"No, El! Screw that!" Dave snapped, his face turning red as the anger broke through his calm exterior. "He cheated on you! He brought a pregnant mistress into the house, and he tried to convince you to stay and play happy family?!"

"He told me it was my fault!" The words burst out of me, raw and bleeding, shocking even myself with their intensity. "He stood in our living room and looked me dead in the eye and said I was too cold! That I was too distant, too focused on my career, and that I couldn’t give him what he wanted most! He blamed me for his affair because I couldn’t get pregnant."

"That pathetic, limp-noodle piece of trash!" Heather screamed, jumping up from her chair so fast it clattered backward onto the floor. "How dare he?!"

"I packed my bags," I sobbed, the floodgates finally collapsing. Tears poured down my face, hot and relentless, dripping onto my clenched hands. "And I left."

Heather dropped to her knees right in front of me, grabbing my hands in hers, her own eyes glassy now. "Good. I’m glad you left. You’re worth a thousand of him, Elena. You hear me?"

"I know," I hiccuped, wiping at my nose with the back of my hand. "I know, but... that’s not even all of it."

Dave leaned closer, rubbing my back in broad, comforting circles, the anger in his face softening into something more like fear. "What else happened, El? Did he follow you?"

"No," I whispered, closing my eyes as Jaxx’s sharp, handsome face filled my mind, unbidden and unwelcome and impossible to ignore. "Jaxx found me."

The room went dead quiet again.

Heather blinked, her rage instantly morphing into utter confusion. "...Jaxx? As in... Jaxx Jaxx? The guy with the jawline and the bad attitude from high school?"

"The one who used to steal your lunch money and then buy you a better sandwich?" Dave added, his eyebrows pulling together. "The billionaire heir you swore you’d throw under a bus if you ever saw him again?"

"Yes," I squeaked, fresh tears spilling over. "He... he saved me from Graham and took me to his penthouse."

Heather’s mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. "Wait. Back up. You stayed at Jaxx’s penthouse?!"

"He was... he was so nice to me," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands, the memory of his gentleness somehow more painful than Graham’s cruelty.

"Okay... and why is this making you cry harder?" Dave asked gently, genuinely lost. "That sounds... kind of amazing? Unbelievably suspicious for Jaxx, but amazing?"

"Because I got scared!" I practically wailed, pulling my hands away from my face. "I panicked! I sat there looking at him, thinking about how smooth he is, how powerful he is, and I thought... what if he’s just like Graham? What if I’m just a game to him? What if he’s just taking advantage of me while I’m weak, and as soon as he gets bored, he’s going to crush me too?!"

Heather let out a deep, dramatic sigh, placing both hands on my knees. "Oh, my sweet, brilliant, completely brain-damaged sister."

I sniffled, glaring at her through blurred vision. "Hey!"

"I didn’t know what to do!" I cried out, the weight of the last three days finally crashing down on me all at once. "My whole life just fell apart! I don’t know who to trust! I feel like I’m losing my mind!"

Dave didn’t say anything else. He just leaned over, wrapped his long arms around my shoulders, and pulled me tight against his chest. Heather slid onto the couch on my other side, throwing her arms around both of us, burying her face in my shoulder. For a moment, the three of us just breathed together, a tangled knot of limbs and grief and stubborn, unbreakable love.

"You don’t have to figure it out today, El," Dave murmured softly into my hair. "You don’t have to deal with Graham today, and you don’t have to figure out Jaxx today."

"Yeah," Heather whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You’re safe now. You’ve got us. We’re going to order three large pizzas, we’re going to sleep on this ugly floor, and tomorrow we’re going to go buy you a fern."