Chapter 192 - 0192: I’m Still Breaking His Nose

Chapter 192: Chapter 0192: I’m Still Breaking His Nose

Elena’s Point Of View

The tears came without warning.

One second, I was trying to hold my head up, my voice flat and hollow, my hands clutched tightly together in my lap, and the next, my entire chest caved in. A ragged, heavy gasp tore out of my throat, my vision went completely blurry, and my whole body started shaking with dry, painful sobs I couldn’t stop if I tried.

It felt as if a thin wire holding my internal organs together had finally snapped under too much strain. I shoved the palms of my hands against my eyes, crushing my face into my wrists, but the tears just kept scalding my skin, running down my forearms and dripping hot onto my jeans and the plush carpet between my knees.

I didn’t even realize how loudly I was gasping until Heather’s voice sliced straight through the rushing sound in my ears.

"Elena..."

And then they were both right there, moving at the exact same instant.

Heather sank straight down onto the floor in front of me, her knee slamming against the coffee table in her rush. She didn’t even flinch. Her arms came up, locking tight around my shoulders, her fingers digging through my hair to palm the back of my head, dragging my face down into the crook of her neck.

Dave was right beside her, dropping his full weight onto the cushion to my right, his large, warm palm flattening against the middle of my back, tracing slow, firm circles between my shoulder blades.

"Shhh, we’ve got you, El," Heather murmured into my hair, her own voice thick and ragged. "We’re right here. You’re done doing this alone. You hear me? You’re done."

I couldn’t reply. I couldn’t even draw enough air into my lungs to form a simple word.

All I could do was lean into them, my shoulders hitching violently as months of silent panic, humiliation, and exhaustion poured out of me. I grabbed the back of Heather’s jacket with both hands, bundling the denim into tight wads, anchoring myself to them like a person clinging to a piece of driftwood in the middle of a dark ocean.

They didn’t pull away. They didn’t tell me to calm down or ask me to explain anything else.

For ten long minutes, they just held the weight of me. Dave’s hand remained steady against my spine, grounding me every time my breathing caught, while Heather rocked me slightly, letting me soak her shoulder with tears until the violent heaving in my chest slowly quieted down to a wet, shaky shudder.

When my head finally cleared enough for me to breathe through my nose, Heather leaned back just an inch. She didn’t let go of my arms, but her dark eyes were blazing—a volatile mix of absolute ferocity and deep, lingering hurt.

"We’re just so pissed at you, Elena," she said, her tone sharp, though her hands were extraordinarily gentle on my arms. "Do you have any idea how many nights I sat by my phone waiting for you to call? Do you know how many times Dave and I begged you to tell us what was happening in that house?"

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was lined with sandpaper. I wiped my wet nose against my sleeve. "I didn’t want to burden you guys... you both had so much going on, and I..."

"Burden us?!" Dave’s voice cracked over mine, louder and sharper than I had heard him speak in years. He sat up straight, his face flushed, his hands gripping my shoulders so tightly I could feel the heat radiating through his palms. "Elena, you’re our big sister. You’re our family! What the hell do you think we’re here for? You think we want to sit back and watch you rot in a toxic house just so we aren’t inconvenienced?"

Heather’s grip tightened on my forearm, her nails biting into my skin through my sweater. "Why did you wait for things to get this bad before walking out, El? Why?" Her lower lip trembled, betraying the sheer panic behind her anger.

"Why didn’t you walk out the very second he brought that girl into your home? Why did you sit there and let that arrogant prick talk to you like you were defective just because you haven’t had a baby yet? After everything you sacrificed to keep this family alive?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow to the sternum. Because she was completely right. I had sat in that quiet house for months, listening to Graham’s smooth excuses, letting him chip away at my self-esteem until I genuinely believed I was the broken one.

"Not having a child right now isn’t a flaw, and it isn’t your fault," Heather continued, her voice dropping into a fierce, low register. She reached out and poked my collarbone hard with her index finger. "And Graham is a pathetic, sniveling coward for using that to cover up his own disgusting choices. But you should have come straight to us. The second he opened his mouth, you should have called us to pack your bags!"

Dave leaned his forehead against my temple, his breath warm against my cheek. His voice was quieter now, but choked with a heavy, raw grief. "You raised us, El. Mom checked out years ago, and you were the one who made sure we ate. You sacrificed your college years, your sleep, your sanity, your whole damn youth so Heather and I could have a real life. Do you think we can just watch you bleed out in silence and be fine with it? Seeing you hurt like this crushes us. It crushes us because all we’ve ever wanted was to see you happy for once."

Fresh tears spilled over my eyelashes, quiet and hot, tracking down my cheeks.

They were right. I had locked myself in a prison of my own making, hiding my pain behind neat clothes and an organized home, convincing myself I was protecting them from my failures.

Heather pulled me back in, wrapping both arms around my head and pressing my wet cheek back against her shoulder. "We love you, you stubborn, reckless idiot," she muttered into my collarbone, her voice muffled. "But you have to stop shutting the door in our faces. You’re not the parent anymore. We’re grown. You have us."

Dave reached up with the pad of his thumb, gently brushing a stray tear off my jawline. "You hear that, big sis? You can’t shake us off. You’re stuck with us."

A wet, broken laugh bubbled up out of my chest, sounding completely ridiculous amidst the heavy quiet of the room.

Heather leaned back, a small, crooked smirk cutting through her tense expression, though her eyelashes were still soaked. "And let me make one thing crystal clear..." She reached out, catching my chin between her fingers and tilting my face up so I had no choice but to look at her. "If you ever do this ’suffering in silence’ nonsense again, I swear to God I will rent a moving truck, come to wherever you are, throw you over my shoulder, and drag you straight into a therapist’s office myself."

Dave nodded once, his jaw set in stone. "I’ll drive the truck. And I’ll pay for the sessions. Just to make sure you sit in the chair."

I sniffled loudly, wiping my face with both hands, my palms coming away wet. "You two are completely insufferable."

"And yet, you adore us," Heather shot back smoothly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It’s a tragic mistake, really," I muttered, but a small, real smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

Dave leaned sideways, pressing a long, warm kiss against the side of my head. "Pretty girls aren’t allowed to cry over garbage men," he murmured softly. "It’s against the rules."

The heavy, suffocating air in the living room seemed to break apart, replaced by the sheer, stubborn warmth of the two people who knew every single one of my flaws and stayed anyway. I sank back into the sofa cushions, my fingers tracing the hem of my shirt as I let out a long, ragged exhale. My body felt drained, my throat raw, but the icy terror that had been sitting on my chest since I left Graham’s house had finally begun to melt.

"I was just... so terrified," I whispered after a moment, looking down at my hands. "I was terrified of what Mom would say when she found out I walked away from a ten-year relationship. I was terrified of what everyone in our social circle would whisper behind my back."

Heather scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "Screw Mom. And screw anyone who has an opinion about your life."

Dave took my left hand in his, lacing his fingers through mine. "Talk to us, El. Tell us what’s really bothering you."

I swallowed hard, looking straight at Dave. "Graham saved your life, Dave. When you were sick, when we were scrambling for options, he used his connections to get you on that transplant list. He’s the reason your heart is beating right now. And I... I spent ten years loving him. Ten years building a routine, a home, a life. You can’t just flip a light switch and pretend those ten years didn’t happen, or that I didn’t care about him."

The words floated between us, heavy and honest.

Dave looked at me for a long moment. His grip on my hand didn’t loosen, but his eyes softened with a profound, quiet understanding. "We know that, Elena. We know." He took a breath, his fingers pressing firmly against my knuckles. "And I will never stop being grateful for the fact that I’m alive today. I know what he did for me. But that doesn’t give him a lifetime pass to treat you like dirt. It doesn’t mean you owe him your happiness, your dignity, or your life."

His gaze hardened, his chin lifting slightly. "The moment he brought another woman into your home and made you feel worthless, every debt was paid. He crossed a line he can’t walk back from. Nobody hurts my sister. Not even the guy who helped save me."

Heather nodded fiercely in agreement, her knuckles white where her hands rested on her knees. "And as for Mom?" She let out a dry, venomous laugh. "Please. Who cares what she thinks? The moment she tried selling you off when we were young was the day her opinion ceased to matter. If she’s so worried about Graham being alone, she can go move in with him and his pregnant mistress herself. They deserve each other."

Dave let out a dark, sudden bark of laughter. "Honestly? I’d pay good money to watch that disaster."

I stared at the two of them, my eyes stinging again, but this time it wasn’t from grief. It was an overwhelming, crashing wave of relief.

"What on earth would I do without you two?" I whispered, my voice thick.

They looked at each other, then turned back to me with identical, incredibly smug grins.

"You’d be utterly lost," Dave said calmly.

"You’d probably be eating dry cereal out of a box in an empty room," Heather agreed.

Dave’s expression suddenly darkened again, his shoulders tightening as he stared at the far wall. "I’m still breaking his nose, by the way. The next time I see Graham, I’m taking a chunk out of him."

I let out a sudden, loud laugh that startled all three of us. "Dave! No, you are not!"

"I’m completely serious," he said, adjusting his glasses with one finger, his expression entirely flat. "I’m a growing boy. I need to expend my energy somehow. Defending my family seems like a great outlet."

Heather leaned back against the coffee table, her sharp smirk returning in full force. "I’ll hold him down for you. Or better yet, I’ll call Jaxx and tell him what Graham did. Jaxx will probably hire a team of professionals to handle it so we don’t get blood on our shoes."

At the mention of Jaxx, my heart did a strange, violent flip against my ribs. I immediately reached for the nearest cushion and tossed it straight at Heather’s face. "Leave Jaxx out of this!"

Heather caught the cushion easily, grinning like a shark. "Oh, so we can talk about Jaxx now? The mysterious knight in shining armor who whisked you away to his luxury penthouse?"

"He did not whisk me away!" I yelled, my cheeks suddenly burning hot.

"He carried you off like a romantic hero in a bad novel," Dave added, nudging my shoulder with his elbow. "Come on, El. You have to admit the timing was ridiculous."

"He made me tea!" I said defensively, throwing my hands up. "That’s called basic human decency!"

"In silk, right?" Heather pressed, leaning in closer with a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

"He did not!" I groaned, burying my face back in my hands as both of them started giggling.

"He absolutely did," Dave insisted, laughing softly.

"You guys are making things up," I muttered into my palms, though the memory of Jaxx’s low, steady voice in that pristine kitchen swept through me, making my pulse quicken in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

"We really aren’t," Heather said softly, her tone shifting back to something gentle. "He cares about you, El. Real care. Not the manipulative nonsense Graham was pulling."

I pulled my hands down, looking between the two of them. "I’m just... not ready. Everything is moving so fast. I just walked out of my marriage. I can’t jump into whatever... whatever Jaxx is."

"And nobody is telling you to," Dave said firmly, reaching over to pat my knee. "Take all the time you need. You can stay right here, in this huge, empty, weirdly clean apartment, and we’ll come over every single day to annoy you until you feel like yourself again."

"Remember when you tried to make us homemade pancakes when you were twelve and accidentally used garlic salt instead of sugar?" Heather asked out of nowhere, her eyes twinkling.

I gasped, looking at her in horror. "Why are you bringing that up right now?!"

"Because they tasted like salty plaster, and Dave still ate three of them because he was afraid you’d cry," Heather cackled, ducking as I swung another pillow at her.

"I was supporting my big sister!" Dave defended himself, raising his hands in mock surrender. "It was an act of bravery!"

"You guys are terrible," I said, but the laughter was coming easily now, filling up the hollow corners of the living room, pushing away the ghost of Graham, the confusion about Jaxx, and the suffocating silence that had greeted me when I first walked through the door.

Heather pulled herself back onto the couch, flopping her legs across Dave’s lap while Dave casually leaned his head back against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling.

"We might be terrible," Heather said softly, reaching across Dave to tap my hand one last time. "But we’re your family, Elena. We’re not going anywhere."

"Never," Dave echoed cleanly.