Page 27 of Before We Break Again
He closes his eyes, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps.I can see the war raging inside him, the way he’s holding everything together by a thread.But it’s slipping.I see it in the slight tremor in his hands, in the tension in his shoulders.The strength he’s trying so desperately to cling to is fading.
I don’t know what to say.I don’t know how to help.And that’s the most terrifying part.I’m supposed to be good at this—I’m a doctor.I fix people.But right now I feel utterly powerless.
His breath hitches, and I know.He’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something that could take him away from me again.
“Dusty,” I whisper, my voice breaking, “I’m here.I’m not going anywhere.”
He opens his eyes, and the pain in them—raw, unfiltered pain—rips through me.“You say that now, but no one stays,” he murmurs, his voice cracked, barely holding it together.“And what if you have to leave?What if something or someone takes you away?”
Tears sting the back of my eyes.I swallow hard, forcing myself to stay calm.“I won’t this time,” I promise, though I know those words alone won’t be enough.Not for him.Not after everything.“The time I did ...was because they took me away.I didn’t have a choice.But then when I tried to reach out to you ...”
He frowns, confusion flickering in his eyes.“What do you mean, you reached out to us?”
“I sent you messages on social media,” I say.“The first time you responded, you said you didn’t have time.The second ...I was blocked.I even tried getting through to San—through his agent, his team—but nothing.No response.”
For a long moment, he doesn’t speak.His expression hardens, jaw tightening.He’s angry, but it’s not with me.He’s angry at the lost time, at whoever kept us apart.
“If someone kept you from me and San—” His voice drops, filled with an edge I haven’t heard in years.“Whoever they are, they’ll pay for it.”
“Okay,” I murmur, trying to steady myself.“So we’ve gone from you almost breaking down to ready-to-burn-the-world anger.”
He shrugs, a humorless smile tugging at his lips.“I’ve got a lot of issues.Too many to even count them.”
I can’t help but smile.“We can work on those, too,” I offer gently.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at me with that unreadable expression.But then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he nods.It’s small, barely there, but it’s enough to make the tension ease just a little from my chest.
He’s not okay.Not even close.But maybe, just maybe, there’s a flicker of fight left in him.And for now, that’s all I can hope for.
“Let’s have dinner,” I suggest, trying to sound steady.“We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
He hesitates, his eyes darting to the door like it’s his escape, a way out of everything pressing down on him.For a second, I think he might bolt, but then he nods, almost imperceptibly.“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
Dinner is a small step, but it’s something.Tomorrow, though?Tomorrow, I have to find out what’s happening with Santos’s care, then figure out how to get Dustin the help he so clearly needs.The question that lingers in the back of my mind is whether I can do anything to save either of them—and if I’ll make it through this intact.
ChapterFourteen
Dustin
I sitacross from Halsey at the small, round table in the corner of her apartment, a takeout container of noodles in front of me, untouched.The aroma of soy sauce and sesame oil fills the air, mingling with the soft, sweet scent of vanilla from one of the candles flickering on the counter.Neither of us seems particularly interested in eating.She’s poking at her food with her chopsticks, just like I am, as if the act of eating has become too much effort.
The silence between us stretches on, heavy but not uncomfortable.It’s the kind of quiet that speaks louder than words, like both of us are carrying too much inside, but neither of us knows where to begin.I steal a glance at her, catching the way the dim light from the candle reflects in her hair, the soft shadows it casts across her face.
Even in this dim light, I can see the tension there—the slight furrow of her brow, the way her lips press together as she stirs her noodles without taking a bite.
“What are you thinking?”My voice barely above a whisper, like I’m afraid to shatter the fragile peace between us.
She doesn’t look up immediately, her chopsticks still as she considers her answer.Finally, she speaks, her voice soft but filled with something sharp underneath.“I don’t understand.You knew where I was all this time.You never reached out.But the second you think someone kept me from you, it pisses you off?”
I scoff, pissing me off doesn’t describe how I feel about knowing that she needed us and we weren’t there for her because someone in our team decided to block her.Tomorrow I’m calling Gavin and I’ll find out who it was.They’ll pay for not giving me the message.So sure, let’s say I’m upset and not ready to cut somebody’s throat, or worse.
I shrug slightly and ask, “Did I ever mention you’re better off without us?”
Her eyes snap up to meet mine, and the look on her face cuts deep.“That wasn’t your decision to make,” she says, her tone firm, the hurt behind it unmistakable.“You’re no different than my parents.They thought they knew what was best for me too.Thought they knew what was right, like I couldn’t decide for myself.How could I be letting two boys touch me?”She pauses, her voice lowering with a mix of anger and something more vulnerable.“They judged me for it.For everything they thought we could’ve done during our sleepovers.”
My lips twitch, trying to ease the tension with a smirk.“We did some pretty hot stuff ...not just during our sleepovers.Though, there’s still more we never quite got to accomplish.”
Her cheeks flush instantly, and for a moment, it’s like we’ve been pulled back in time.That familiar blush, the way her eyes flicker with something shy and uncertain—it’s like a glimpse of the girl I used to know.The one who would turn red at the slightest tease, even though we both knew she liked it.
