Page 28 of Broken By Silence
I don’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence stretch between us. Then finally, I whisper the words, too scared to say them any louder. “I don’t know if I can do it. Stay clean, I mean.”
Will doesn’t flinch or scoff at my words. He just nods, with a soft understanding from someone who’s been there before. “Then I’ll help you. We all will, because she deserves to be happy, and whether you like it or not, you’ve become part of that.”
I swallow hard, staring at my shaking hands. Part of me wants to believe him. Part of me wants to laugh in his face. But mostly… mostly I just want to be the man Lottie sees when she looks at me, not the fuck-up I’ve always been.
I nod, barely. It’s all I can manage.
Will claps me once on the shoulder. “Good. One day at a time, Crew. Just one.”
As he stands to head back inside, I stay on the bench, the craving still there, gnawing at me. But I want to do it for her, and I need to do it for me, so I don’t become what I always hated.
Chapter 11
Oscar
Isit in the hospital room, trying to laugh along with them, but my chest is too tight. Claire gathers up the empty Tupperware, brushing her hand against Will’s as he helps her, and every time they touch, they smile like they’ve forgotten this place is supposed to hurt.
But my eyes never leave her.
Lottie.
Always Lottie.
Always the center of gravity, pulling me in, whether she means to or not. She looks steady, calm, like none of this touches her—but I know better. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the practiced ease in her smile. She’s faking it. Pretending. Because beneath that oversized sweatshirt, she’s hiding bruises that I don’t dare try to confront her about.
She shouldn’t have to carry this weight, not with Lorenzo still out there, not after everything. But she does. She holds it for all of us, and she does it like it costs her nothing.
And it kills me, because I know it costs her everything.
I stay near, not hovering but close enough that if she stumbled, I’d be there. Archer notices the way she’s holding herself. He always notices when it comes to her. He shoots me a look across the room, and I send him one right back.“She’s not glass, Archer. Don’t treat her like she’ll shatter.”
He nods, albeit reluctantly, and moves back to her side. Roman’s asleep, the drugs finally kicked in enough to knock him out, and Crew’s more subdued than when he was when he walked out. The secrets have been revealed, and it’s all too much for all of us; he just shows it more.
Later, when we’re finally home, the house settles into quiet. Lottie and Archer breathe evenly beside me, their warmth pressed close, and for a moment, I almost believe I can sleep. But the weight in my chest won’t let me.
In the kitchen, I put the kettle on just to have something to do. The low hum fills the stillness, steam curling upward, fogging the glass. I stand there watching it, trying to pretend it’s enough to ground me, until a shadow crosses the floor.
Claire.
She always seems to find me when I need her. She doesn’t waste time, though. Her hands rise, precise and steady, every sign sharp as her blade that she uses.“You need to move in. Fully.”
I shake my head before she’s even finished.“I’m already here most nights. That’s enough.”
Her eyes narrow.“Not enough. Lottie needs you, and you need her. Stop pretending you don’t want to be here.”
Her words strike deeper than I want them to. Because she’s right—I do want to. More than anything. But wanting and taking are not the same. My hands move slowly, carefully, each sign measured.“I don’t want to cross a line. She’s already given me more than I ever thought possible, letting me love her. I can’t push her for more.”
Claire tilts her head, studying me like she’s dissecting everyflicker of expression I can’t hide. Then she steps closer, her signs sharp, deliberate. “You think protecting her means holding yourself back. It doesn’t. You pull away, and she feels it. And she’s had enough of people leaving her. Don’t be another one.”
The words cut straight through me. My throat tightens, my hands tremble as I try to answer.“It’s not about leaving. It’s about not becoming them. Not taking her choices from her. Not making her life about what I need instead of what she wants.”
For a moment, Claire’s expression softens, though her hands stay steady.“You’re not them. You never could be. But don’t you see? Choosing her doesn’t take her choice away. It gives her one. The choice to say yes or no. Don’t decide for her by saying nothing.”
I grip the edge to ground myself because she’s right, I love Lottie. I love the bruises she hides that no one else notices, the quiet strength she fakes for the rest of us, the truths she’s been forced to carry alone. I hate that I learned her story through the mouths of men who scarred her, their words careless, cruel, as if her pain belonged to them.
It made me want to destroy them.
And maybe I would have, if I’d heard the sounds to match the shapes of their lips. But I didn’t. I only saw it. And maybe that spared me.
