Page 67 of Faded Rhythm

“That’s all,” I say. “No more questions about me.”

Her lips part, her brows knitting together. “We’ve had sex, Julian. I like to think I’m allowed to ask you questions now.”

“I talk when I’m comfortable.”

She stares at my face, blinking rapidly. “So what can I do to make you comfortable?”

My eyes move back to the ceiling. “Nobody can make me comfortable.”

She sighs loudly, throwing the covers off with great fanfare. “You’re annoying, you know that?” she says, reaching for her jeans.

I watch her yank her clothes on, guilt pooling in my stomach. I don’t like pushing her away. I’m not even sure I mean to. I just can’t open the gate any wider right now. Not with everything going on.

“I’m going to check on my daughters,” she mumbles, then she storms out, leaving the scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

I lay here alone, just like I usually do. My chest rises and falls. Thoughts churn around in my head.

She wants in. All the way in. And I won’t let her.

It’s not fair to either one of us. It’s why I always end up lying here alone.

The secrets I try to keep buried create the loneliness I carry.

25

Sable

A knock raps softlyon the guest bedroom door.

“Breakfast,” Julian calls through the wood.

His voice is low and gruff, cutting through the disorienting morning haze in yet another room that isn’t mine. I glance over at the girls, both still curled up together in the other twin bed, looking like two little sleepy cats. I rouse them gently, and we go through the familiar morning routine of washing faces, brushing teeth, brushing hair into ponytails, gelling down the flyaways. It’s normal. It’s comforting, especially after being apart from them. It’s a familiar rhythm I hear beating in my heart.

I leave them at the kitchen table with plates of waffles and eggs. Kelice drizzles syrup while Rae hums to herself between bites. I kiss both of their heads and turn, quietly moving back down the hallway.

Julian’s door is slightly ajar. I push it open and find him standing at his dresser pulling a fresh shirt out of the drawer. He looks over his shoulder when he hears me, his eyes catching mine with an unreadable expression.

“Hey,” I say softly. “I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“Breakfast. And bringing us somewhere safe.” I look around. “For sharing your home with us.”

He nods once. Then, just like that, the warmth of the moment dissipates. His back straightens. His shoulders tighten.

“I need to ask you something,” he says. “Do you think Brett would hurt your daughters?”

The question feels like ice melting down my spine.

I cross my arms, hugging myself. “Maybe.”

He can’t hide the disgust on his face.

“Maybe Kelice,” I admit. “He treats her differently.”

He turns to face me head-on. “Different how?”

I shake my head. “Just…different. Less patient. Less loving. Like she did something to offend him or something.” I swallow hard. “It’s very subtle. It didn’t even really hit me until just now. And it’s nothing I could prove in a court of law or anything. You can just—“

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