Page 134 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

And it all feels hollow.

Metal and leather and speed, all useless without her riding shotgun, laughing like the world can’t touch us.

Nothing does.

Because no matter how far I run, no matter how many vineyards or fucking oceans stand between us, she's ingrained into my soul.

Still tearing me apart from the inside out.

The house hasn’t changed. Same dark wood beams. Same faded oil paintings staring down at me. Same faint smell of oak and old wine barrels clinging to the stone walls.

I used to love this place. The parties. Mom.

Now it feels like a mausoleum.

I drift into the kitchen, craving something, anything, to anchor myself.

Through the window, I catch a glimpse of the back garden.

Dad is out there, laughing as he kicks a ball around with his wife Quinn and my little brother and sister. His new family. His second chance.

He's happy.

And I'm miserable.

A hollow pit forms in my chest. Will I ever have that with Sophie? That easy kind of happiness?

The way things are now, I can't even picture it.

Sneakers scrape across the floor behind me.

I turn and blink. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Luciana grins, totting her luggage behind her. "Heard you were coming back. Figured someone needed to supervise the dramatic homecoming."

I snort. "And you volunteered for the job?"

"Someone has to keep you from brooding yourself into an early grave."

Her voice is light, but her eyes are sharp.

She knows. She always knows.

She looks me up and down, a slow, assessing sweep, as she leans casually against the counter.

She plucks an apple from the bowl. “So, how's freedom like?”

I force a smirk, the same one I used to wear like armor.

“Freedom’s overrated.”

She takes a loud, deliberate bite of the apple, chewing like she’s got all the time in the world.

“You look like shit.”

I bark out a humorless laugh. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

Luciana tilts her head, studying me harder.

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