Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝗧here was a fleeting moment where Rueben hesitated. A single moment as he stood, shoulder pressed to the balcony porch, and watched as his former best friend sat inches deep in the sand, doing nothing but letting the wind blow through the strands of his auburn hair.
As Rueben's shadow engulfed him, and Matteo's lack of self-will chose to ignore the possible sign of danger, the moment anchored him. Hounded him. Deprived him of what he needed to tell him about, and almost forced him to turn on his heel and walk away—to not rip him from the world, the walls, and the bounds he'd created around with only a door fitting his sister.
But the moment passed, and so did Rueben's hesitation.
It was only five in the morning—arguably too early for anyone to be up—but when the house they shared was filled with trauma, and the brains that rested on pillows were too busy living them to care to visit those pain in their dreams too, it was reasonable.
Rueben let out a sigh and palmed the sand, sitting down next to Matteo. He crossed his legs under his body and propped the rest of his body on his wrists, leaning backward. With his chin angled up, and the wind taking turns in his hair now, he settled in the breeze and sat for a second.
Just sat.
And for the first time since his life went to shit—which started around the age of five—every thought he had flew out the window as if he were a living metaphor. And when the sun began to warm the specks of beach underneath their bodies, and the waves began to echo with rapid increase, he let out a breath and opened his eyes.
With them on the sunset, he finally spoke.
"The first time I kissed Rayne was on this beach."
"Really?" Matteo blinked open his eyes, "Don't tell me you're going to marry her on one, too."
"Nah," he laughed, "Isaac already took that idea."
Rueben swallowed the lump in his throat—the bad taste on his tongue—as he recalled just how long that marriage lasted. He chose to ignore the weight pressing on his chest, and the increase in his heartbeat as ill, unwanted thoughts of the dead began to spark in his mind.
Thoughts of beach weddings being cursed for him now. For pools of water to not be so friendly. For the entirety of his life was a train coming off the tracks, bound to crash into some unsuspecting, innocent pile of future bodies.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," Rueben pushed on, negating his thoughts.
"You already proposed," Matteo sighed, "No point in getting my blessing now."
"It's not that," Rueben shot him a half-smile.
As Matteo's golden eyes turned in his direction for the first time in the hour they'd sat together, Rueben took note of the dimness in his eyes, probably in the same way Matteo saw through the fakeness in his smile. And for another pause, Rueben contemplated popping his bubble.
Because even if he sat here miserably for the rest of his life, at least he was here. And that was enough for Rayne—so it should be enough for him. Even if it was the most selfish thing he could ever possibly do, he let the mental image cross his brain for a beat too long.
But as much as he loved his fiancé, he loved Matteo first.
As much as he loved her, he knew she needed more from her brother.
"We need to talk about Lilly."
Matteo's forced grin faded off his lips at the same time he turned away in an effort to hide his emotions. Brick by brick, layer by layer, Rueben watched within a span of milliseconds, Matteo's walls go right back into place, leaving no room for an open door or a crack in the foundation.
"We don't have to do this, Rue," he whispered, "We don't have to pretend that we're still the same teenagers we were years ago—like I'm still the surprise! friend you found that happened to be secretly in love with your little sister."
"It's not—"
"We don't have to," Matteo released a loaded exhale, "Because we aren't those people anymore."
Rueben nodded to himself, and bit on the inside of his cheek.
Through trials and tribulations, through kidnapping and torture, and the loss of those they loved, he was right; they have changed. But Rueben couldn't help but let the tone of Matteo's voice irritate him. Because in his eyes, everything they'd been through—made them better.
A person shouldn't want to remain stagnant.
"I'm glad we're not those people anymore, Matteo," he admitted, "I'm glad that even though it happened in the worst way possible, we are different people. We've grown up. Learned. Experienced way too fucking much at our age, and lost people that should've had years. And every one of those facts is what gets me up in the morning. We're still here."
"So what? What's so good about being alive when half of us aren't?—"
"Lilliana's alive, Matteo. She's alive and she needs us."
It was almost as if his daughter was just placed in his lap because Matteo's face and body language changed drastically. Instead of sitting slumped over in cold and wet sand, he was on his knees, grabbing onto Rueben's shirt like if he didn't make contact, his alarm would go off and he would wake up from this nightmare version of a dream.
Rueben, wide-eyed, took in the water starting to group in the base of Matteo's eyelids, and the rose that crawled up his cheeks from the heat of the moment. He watched the way the curve of the longer parts of his hair dove into his vision, and through each wave of its length, his expression grew brighter, but grimmer. More vital, but more cautious.
"Tell me you're not lying to me, Rueben," he spoke through his teeth.
"I'm not lying."
"How do you know?"
"We got confirmation from one of the members of the other side—the medical examiner that was in charge of forging Lilly's death."
"Enzo said she's dead."
"Maybe Enzo isn't as reputable as you make him out to be."
Rueben said his last statement harsher than he intended, spitting out Enzo's name as if he were nothing more than a piece of unflavored gum stuck to his tongue. Part of him resented the fact that he couldn't hide his feelings in Matteo's time of need, but most of him felt it was justified. If he had to choose the side of believing he'd changed with Matteo, or acknowledging the unforgiving hurt he'd already caused to his future wife, without a doubt, he'd be at Rayne's side.