Page 36 of Collateral Damage
“Ethan, you can talk to me. I know you love Sybil, so if you ended things, you must have a good reason. I’m just trying to understand what that reason is.”
If I was in his shoes, if I had the love of a girl like Sybil Laurence, there is no fucking way would I break it off. Sure, I might be the one to fuck it up, but I wouldn’t be the one to end things.
“For once in your life, can you leave me alone?” Ethan chides.
“No.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Cooper, I know we share our secrets, but this one isn’t about you. It’s about her. It’s not something you can fix—it’s something she has to take care of, so why don’t you butt the fuck out for once?”
Ouch.
But I see through his hurtful words.
This is what Ethan does when he’s upset. He pushes people away. He hates to let anyone in on his vulnerability, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to treat me poorly, nor is it my fault he’s going through this.
“Fine, get angry, be a dick about it, push me away. Be like Dad.”
“I’m not Dad,” he snaps.
“Whatever you say. If I need to be your punching bag right now, then so be it, but just so we’re clear, I know what you’re doing.”
We don’t speak after that, both too pissed off. My hands are tight fists, and I wish we could fight this out like we did when we were kids and our punches didn’t hold the same impact they would today.
I shake my head, still in disbelief. If Ethan is this broken up about it, I can only imagine how shattered Sybil is right now.
I need to see her and make this better somehow. Ethan might demand to be alone, but I don’t want her to be by herself when she’s hurting. Maybe if I talk to her, I can help them mend whatever is going on. Ethan is an introvert, but she’s more extroverted, more like me. She needs to be surrounded by people she cares about when she’s hurting, and I’m pretty sure her family isn’t in the city, so she’s probably alone.
There’s got to be a way to fix this, and if Ethan won’t tell me what the problem is between them, maybe Sybil will.
Sixteen
Cooper
Past - Age 22
Sybil lets me into her parents’ place, and I immediately gather her into a hug. I’m six-foot-two, and she’s five-foot-ten, which makes her a lot taller than most of the girls I’m used to holding, but her height is one of my favorite things. It suits her take-charge personality, even though right now she feels smaller, sinking into me like she needs my protection.
Like she needsme.
I should let her go, should step away and put distance between us, but I can’t. For a few seconds, I let myself hang on tight, imagining holding Ethan’s girl isn’t total asshole behavior. I imagine, just for a moment, I’m my brother—the one she needs to hold her and tell her everything is going to be alright.
I breathe her in, inhaling her intoxicating perfume and the soapy-clean scent of her freshly shampooed hair. I shouldn’t close my eyes, but I find them shutting anyway, savoring this moment. I hate to see her so broken and sad; she doesn’t deserveit. She should know how special she is and how much she’s wanted.
God, if I could tell her how much I want her, havealwayswanted her, maybe she wouldn’t look so broken-hearted.
The only consolation is she’s obviously showered and gotten herself ready after returning from the airport. I half expected to find her in bed with puffy eyes and a pint of her favorite Ben and Jerry’s, Cherry Garcia.
Does getting ready mean she’s okay?
Wallowing in bed was never Sybil’s thing. She’s not the type to feel sorry for herself or let someone else pick up the pieces for her. She’s type-A with her shit together and go-on-with-life attitude, even though she’s hurting on the inside. Honestly, it’s a miracle she’s letting me hug her instead of pretending everything is fine.
“Are you okay?” I ask in a throaty whisper, stepping back but keeping my hands on her elbows.
She nods, then shakes her head, and then nods again, and my heart aches for her.
“I’m not crying anymore, so at least there’s that.”
Her eyes are much greener than normal—the color of spring grass after the rain and a clear sign of her tears. My aching heart sinks.
