“We’re nothing like him,” Alden says so firmly that it lifts Cora’s face in surprise. “Nothing, Cora. Do you understand me? Whatever you went through with that asshole, we would never do that to a woman. I’m fucking disgusted that I brought him into this house. I’m disgusted that I counted him as a friend for so many years. And you should know that he’s not welcome in this house ever again. Now, my brothers could have handled the situation better, and I understand that this is raw for you, but you don’t get to hurl around accusations like that about my family and me.”
“Your family ruined my life once. And you’ve all been working hard to make sure it happens again.”
The words are like a slap, but I see her vulnerability. The hurt and disappointment behind it all. The betrayal. And I, for one, am not going to continue to pretend that all of this can continue a moment longer.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “For everything.”
Cora’s sapphire eyes are glassy as they find mine, and her emotion is like a knife to my heart. My hands flex, palms tingling with the urge to pull her to me, caress her and let her know that I will do absolutely everything in my power to make her happy and keep the demons at bay.
I’m filled with emotions that I don’t understand, driven by instincts that feel foreign to me.
Hold.
Shield.
Protect.
The words surge inside me, and I can’t ignore them. I know that when I step forward to take Cora’s arm in a gentle grip, I risk her lashing out at me. I know that she’s running on instinct too. But when my skin touches hers, it’s as though both of us experience the same sense of relief. I step closer, easing her into my arms, and, although rigid to start with, she relaxes into my embrace. “We’re sorry,” I whisper. “For everything.”
Cora’s chest hitches around a silent sob, and over her head, I find my brothers staring at me with questioning expressions. They’ve never seen me like this before. I’ve never been like this before.
But Cora needs us. She needs us to be good men in a sea of fucking assholes.
And regardless of all the shit that has led us to this point, I’m drawing a line in the sand.
It stops now, and that’s final.
13
MARK
The saying goes that quiet comes before a storm. In the case of the Carlton household, it seems to follow one.
Last night was a raging blizzard of emotion, and today, everything is tranquil.
It’s the weekend, and after sleeping in, I descend the stairs to find Tobias and River eating a huge plate of eggs and bacon across from Cora, who’s eating pancakes. She’s still dressed in pajamas with adorably tousled hair and a face free from makeup. Her skin is like peaches and cream, with a light dusting of freckles across her nose, like stars in a midnight sky.
She’s laughing at Tobias’s recounting of the time River got lost in the airport only to be found in the women’s restroom. He was five at the time.
“Morning,” I say, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice but failing.
“Morning.” Cora’s voice is soft and tentative, as though she’s comfortable in the presence of Tobias and River but not quite sure about how the rest of us are going to react.
Last night was difficult. Cora allowed Tobias to comfort her, but the rest of us had retreated, giving her some space. He’d said what I’d wanted to say. He’d done what I’d wanted to do. And she didn’t need the five of us crowding her when she was at her most vulnerable. For whatever reason, she’d chosen Tobias to confide in. Maybe he was just there at the right time. Maybe it was something more. Who knows?
I’m just glad that last night broke the standoff between us. Even Danny has seen that it’s necessary to broker a truce. Our home needs to return to a place of peace for all our sakes, especially Cora’s. Just the thought of what happened to her has me raging. Alden is devastated to have been so oblivious to what Kyle is really like. He’s vowed to do something but needs time to work out what. If Cora’s not prepared to pursue him through the courts, then there must be another way to make him pay.
I grab fruits and vegetables from the refrigerator to make a high-protein smoothie. My plan to hit the gym now feels uncertain. This fragile peace feels tenuous, and I don’t want to miss out on the chance to contribute to supporting it.
“Cora’s been telling us about her business,” River says. “She makes ceramics.”
“Cool,” I say. “Like vases?”
“Yes,” she says. “And dinner sets, tea sets, plant pots. Pretty much everything you see around the house is made in a kiln.”