Page 132 of Lighting the Lamp
Her shock mirrors mine, sharp and splintering. My skin prickles like I’ve been doused in ice water, every nerve alive with disbelief. I can feel the sting of tears, but fury pushes them back.
Cole pushes off the wall, his voice harder, edged with disbelief. “When were you going to say something? After he collapsed in front of us?”
His anger collides with mine, practically doubling it. My stomach knots so tight I almost fold in half, the force of it clawing its way up my throat. My nails dig crescents into my palms, my body vibrating with the need to scream loud enough to break something.
Auntie Mel’s eyes shine, but she steadies her chin. “It wasn’t my information to tell. It was Beau’s choice when to tell everyone, and he wasn’t ready.”
Her answer only fans the fire in my chest. The words blur as my vision heats, fury turning the edges of the hallway red. I pace two steps forward, then back, air sawing sharp in and out of my lungs like I cannot get enough of it. My whole body shakes with the urge to grab her shoulders and make her feel even a fraction of what is tearing through me.
“So you let us all walk around blind while he carried this alone?” My voice shakes as hard as my hands.
Michele shakes her head, tears slipping free. “God, Mel…”
The sound of her crying guts me, hot pressure building behind my eyes until the hallway tilts. I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, desperate for anything to keep me steady. Because if I start sobbing now, I’ll never stop.
Cole’s fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, he can’t even look at her. “You thought staying silent was better than us knowing how bad it was?”
The hallway hums with his rage, and it thrums in my bones, too, vibrating through every inch of me. My breath shakes, shallow and trembling, like my body cannot decide if it wants to collapse or combust. Auntie Mel takes it, every word, every accusation, her lips pressing into a thin line. She looks older all of a sudden, weighed down, but she doesn’t back away.
“I thought I was protecting him,” she says finally, her voice low, breaking.
The anger in me flickers, messy and dangerous, tangled up with something closer to grief. My chest feels hollow and too full all at once, like there’s no space left for air. Protection. That word makes me want to shatter something. Because he is lying upstairs unconscious, and I would have carried every ounce of his pain if only he’d let me.
“He should have told me,” I say, the words jagged and loud in the too-bright hallway. “God, he should have told me.”
Auntie Mel shifts beside me, her gaze cutting toward Beau’s room before returning to me. “Sweetheart, it’s not always that simple.”
“How long have you been holding on to this secret while the rest of us had no idea?”
She hesitates, just a flicker, but it erupts inside me. My pulse spikes, fury crashing up my throat until I can taste it. “Don’tyou dare stand there and act like it’s nothing,” I snap. “Tell me everything you know. All of it.”
Her hand hovers like she might reach for me, but I jerk back before she can touch me. My nails dig crescents into my palms, stinging. “How could you keep this from me?” My voice wavers, fury and disbelief tangling until I can barely separate them. “I’ve been here. Every day. He’s had plenty of time to say something, and still, he didn’t.”
“It wasn’t my place—” she begins, but I cut her off.
“That’s not good enough.” The snap in my voice is almost a growl, my whole body leaning toward her like I’m bracing for a fight. “You tell the people who—” My voice cracks hard, and my gaze drops to the floor as the words burn their way out. “You tell the people who love you.”
“So he’s been carrying this alone? And we were right there, all of us—” Michele’s breath hitches as she breaks off, tears spilling before she can swipe them away.
“He’s my brother. My big brother. And you thought silence was better than letting us help him?” Cole’s fists clench at his sides, and his voice vibrates with anger that looks one second away from snapping.
“He was probably trying to protect all of you,” Auntie Mel says softly, but her words are swallowed by the sharp crack of my voice.
“We don’t need protection,” I bite out, too loud, too wild. My pulse hammers in my ears, my chest so tight I can’t take a full breath. “We need the truth. What if I hadn’t been there? What if—what if—” The words tangle in my throat, splintering into panic.
Auntie Mel grips my arm, steady and firm. “Stop. You are here now, and that’s what matters.”
I press my free hand to my sternum, like maybe I can hold the pieces of myself together if I press hard enough. “But what else hasn’t he told me?”
“That’s something you can ask him when he’s stronger,” Auntie Mel says. Her gaze softens but doesn’t waver. “For now, you stay by him. You keep showing him you’re not going anywhere.”
“And if he doesn’t tell me?” My jaw locks, the fight still burning under my skin.
“Then you decide what that means,” she answers quietly, “but give him the chance first. He’s earned that much.”
The silence that follows is heavy, thick with everything unsaid. Cole drags a hand over his face, muttering under his breath. Michele swipes at her cheeks, her shoulders trembling as she exhales. My own chest heaves like I’ve run miles, but the anger still claws beneath my ribs, restless and raw.
The click of sensible shoes cuts through the tension as a nurse rounds the corner, her voice brisk but kind. “We’re ready to take him upstairs now. You can come with us if you’d like.”
