Trying to live #Wattys2024

Chapter 15 (Edited)

Henry leaned forward, our foreheads touching. "You do, Em. It's just hidden away under all that baggage you're carrying with you, and when you lose it, you'll see yourself again or the version you want to be. One day, I promise."

I closed my eyes, absorbing the words, this moment of peace. This was my Henry, the one I loved, the one I wanted.

Though I knew this wasn't real and Henry wasn't mine, I wanted it to be real. I wanted it to be real so badly.

"I'm sorry," I said to Henry, even though I wasn't sure why. Deep down in my heart, I knew, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. I'm sorry for all the times I thought you weren't enough, for bearing with me, for loving me. I just wanted you to be happy, without the bad things that were happening with me, Henry.

He backed away but didn't let go of me, his eyes full of confusion and concern. "For what?"

A loud sigh came from behind us. "Can we stop? What is happening right now? Henry, don't you have a girlfriend? So why are you here having a sentimental moment with your ex? The girl who doesn't care about anyone but herself? The one who's never loved you?" Scott asked, sounding bored.

Henry stiffened as if he remembered who we were. I didn't let Scott's words get to me, not all of it. I might have made mistakes, but I knew the one thing I did right was loving someone. I might not have had enough trust in my relationships, but that didn't mean I didn't love the person with all of my heart.

Suddenly, Scott said in a cold, indifferent voice, "Let her do what she wants. At least that way, we get rid of her, get free from her, and she'll leave us alone in peace."

I backed away from Henry, his hands falling to his sides as I walked up to Scott.

"Scott," Henry started, but didn't get far as a loud crack resonated in the hall.

"What the hell!" Franny screamed from somewhere behind me.

Of course, they all saw me breaking down. If Henry was there, they would be too, Cam included. I shouldn't care, but I did. I stared at my brother's blood-imprinted cheek and the shock visible in his eyes.

I placed the shard in his hand and closed his other hand over it. "I don't know what happened to you. I don't know why you're saying so much bullshit right now. I didn't know that you hated me so much," I said, breathing heavily. "But maybe it's true what they say—blood relationships aren't strong. It's the heart that connects relations, and maybe your heart never felt what my heart felt for you—love."

"And the sad part is," I smiled through teary eyes at him, "you did the very thing you promised not to do to me—make me cry. Take that shard as a reminder that you don't know me at all, that your assumptions of me are loose rumors your girlfriend and some of your so-called friends made up about me. If that's the version you want to have in your head, then please, go on."

I imagined gathering my broken pieces from the floor, trying to fit them somewhere, even if I felt like I was drowning—piece by piece. I tried to walk away but stopped and turned around. A few meters separated me from my stunned brother.

I could walk back. I could say sorry. I could become the good sister again. I could do so much more, but I was just tired of pretending that I was okay. For once, I wanted him to see how I felt. How he made me feel. A brother wasn't supposed to treat a sister like that.

"The saddest part, Scott, is that I should hate you. Hate you for whatever you were putting me through, for calling me names, for telling me that I'm not good enough, for always making me doubt myself. But I can't," I said. "And that's the difference between me and you. I will always love you because it's just who I am."