Page 90 of Not For Keeps
The living room is still buzzing with leftover energy. Glitter clings to the floor, cocoa mugs and wine glasses litter the coffee table, and everyone’s voices are too damn loud. They don’t know, though. They can’t tell that everything is falling apart right now. They don’t realize that there’s a crack in the air.
“Alright,” I say, clapping my hands once. “The party’s over.”
Seb frowns from the arm of the couch, one brow arched. “Is everything okay with Lyse?”
“No,” I answer honestly. There’s no point in pretending. “But I’ve got it.”
He starts to stand, Mari and Anna right behind him.
“Seriously. She just needs a minute. I’ll talk to her.”
“She’s my sister.”
“And she’s my girl.”
Seb hesitates. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I’m sure.”
They start gathering their things. Andres is the first to step out the front door, muttering something about glue still being in his hair.
Anna kisses my cheek on her way past and whispers, “Take care of her.”
“I always do.”
Nathan lingers the longest, arms crossed over his chest. He gives me one of those long, assessing looks. Finally, he nods, murmurs, “Good man,” and follows the rest out.
The house quiets. I sit on the edge of the couch, elbows on my knees, watching the stairs, waiting to magically have the answers I need. I don’t know exactly what Nico said, but I know Analyse, and I know the look in her eyes well enough to recognize old pain when it’s been freshly scraped open.
To no surprise of mine, he fucked up.
The first time I met the guy was when he came rolling back into town like everyone’s been waiting on him with bated breath. And I saw right through him. I could see what he was really after by coming back. I was hoping I was wrong. I was hoping that I was just being cynical. Maya deserves so much fucking better. Analyse deserves better.
I don’t hate people. I don’t usually care enough for anyone to elicit hate in me. But I hate that motherfucker. The urge to run out of this house and wrap my hands around his neck is great, but I know that isn’t what’s right for Analyse and Maya. That isn’t what they need. They need me.
So here I am. Sitting here, waiting. Because I will never turn my back on them. No matter how hard she wants to push me away right now. I will never be him. I will never hurt them.
When she finally comes downstairs, her steps are slower. Controlled. Her face is blank, but not unreadable. Not to me, at least. I see the glimmer in her eyes, the tight set of her jaw. She halts when she sees me.
“You’re still here,” she says quietly, surprise written all over her face.
“Of course, I’m here.”
“I thought maybe…” She gestures vaguely toward the door, not finishing.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her lips press into a line. She walks into the kitchen and starts stacking mugs. I follow her, leaning against the counter across from her. She won’t look at me.
“Lyse.”
“Yeah,” she says as she continues to clean the mess surrounding us.
“Look at me.”
She looks up at me with those big brown eyes, and the pain I see within them tears my heart clean apart.
“He’s leaving town,” she says after a beat.
