Page 128 of Bitter When He Begs

“I know,” Julian says. “But he won’t be. Not ever. And that’s not about you, that’s about him. You don’t need his pride. You’ve got ours.”

I look between them, vision blurred and throat raw. “You mean that?”

“Swear on my fucking life,” Eli says. “You’re ours. We don’t let our own fall.”

I close my eyes and let my head fall forward until it hits Julian’s shoulder. I can’t say anything else, I can’t move. I feel Eli’s hand grip the back of my neck, solid and grounding. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“Then rest,” Eli says. “But we’re not leaving and you don’t get to give up.”

I inhale through my nose, count to five, then exhale. Over and over. I can feel them both beside me, grounding me without even touching me now. My fists unclench. My spine slowly loosens. The rage starts to cool, not vanish, but simmer low enough that I can survive it. Long enough I can sit in it without lighting the whole room on fire.

I wipe my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, drag myself up off the floor, and sink onto the edge of my bed. The weight on my chest is still there, but it’s not crushing me anymore.

Eli stands too, stretches his back, and then glances at me. “So. You eating tonight, or do I need to bribe you with fried chicken again?”

Julian nods. “You know he’s a whore for wings.”

“Fuck both of you,” I mutter, but my voice doesn’t have the venom it did before. It’s weary and threadbare.

Julian grins. “See? That’s the Luca we know.”

Eli sits on the foot of the bed and tosses me a wrapped peppermint from his pocket. “And if you ever scare us like that again, I’m calling Sage.”

I pause mid-peel and my heart kicks up. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I fucking would.”

I let the peppermint dissolve slowly on my tongue, the taste reminding me of the future I nearly gave up. This flavor has teeth now. It snaps against my tongue and drags me out of that spiral I nearly let swallow me whole. It reminds me exactly what I almost lost tonight.

I almost threw away the nights I’ve spent with him curled into my chest like I’m home. The early mornings when he mumbles in his sleep and clings tighter to me. The texts I get from him before games:“Try not to get tackled, pretty boy, your face is expensive.”The way he looks at me.

I almost threw away a clear head and purpose, and for what? For a man who’ll never see me as anything more than a pawn in his broken idea of legacy? A man who thinks being my father means I owe him every inch of my soul and still isn’t satisfied when I bleed for it?

Fuck that.

Fuck him.

I let my head fall into my hands again, the candy crackling a little in my mouth as it breaks in half. My teeth clench hard around it and I feel it shatter like glass against my molars.

It’s not dramatic. It’s not this big epiphany. It’s just… stillness.

Stillness I haven’t had in weeks.

I let the flavor sit on my tongue, let it do what Sage always does—quiet the noise in my head just long enough for me to breathe again.

Eli’s leaning back on his palms, watching me with that half-bored, half-brotherly concern that always makes me feel like I’m eight years old and trying to sneak beer at a barbecue. Julian’s got his arms crossed, pacing a little by the desk like he’s too wired to sit still now that the adrenaline’s burned off.

They’re still here. I don’t deserve it, but fuck, I’m grateful. For both of them. For this night not ending the way it could’ve.

Julian finally stops pacing. “You’re gonna be okay?”

I look at him. He’s got that deadpan thing he does when he’s being serious but pretending not to be. Like he’s daring me to lie.

I nod. Not fast. Not to reassure him. Just… honestly. “I don’t know if I’m okay. But I’m still here.”

“That counts,” Eli says. “More than you know.”

I let out a slow breath, the sting of peppermint still on my tongue. “Thanks. For not letting me go.”

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