"There's a word I found recently. Evanescence. It made me think of you. It made me think of us. Were we just a dream, Sebastian?"
TW : Key themes of suicide and trauma.
WARNING: This is Book Two. Please read "affluenza" first to avoid any spoilers...
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"I THINK I'M a bad person," I admit, leaning my head down heavily on the counter in front of me. "No, I know I'm a bad person. My aunt is the one person that stuck it out for me, the one person who has loved me when nobody else wanted to. So why am I not happy for her?"
Roman's brows furrow. "Well, do you not like this Singh guy?"
"No, I think he's great for her. I sort of was the one that got them together," I say, taking a sip of my drink. "But marriage. That's a lot. And I know deep down, I'm happy that my aunt is ready to try again. I'm happy that she's trying again with Singh. But there's still something in me that isn't happy about this. About any of this."
"You're not a bad person, Braylen. I don't buy that," Roman says, leaning forward on his elbows. "And I do think that you're happy for your aunt. You're just sad for yourself. You know, because of...him."
The full weight of Roman's words hit me square in the chest and I shrink back. "I didn't come here to talk about him," I mumble, my words slurring together just a bit.
Roman quirks an eyebrow. "Even though I'm right?"
"Even though you're right," I retort, a small smile on my face. "Why didn't you text me back?"
Roman shrugs his shoulders. "Busy."
I laugh loudly and watch as his eyes twinkle. "Busy? Yeah, I don't buy that."
"I was out of town," he amends. I open my mouth to ask where he'd gone but one look on his face told me that he didn't want to talk about it. "And I'm not the biggest texter. I got your message, though. You don't need to apologize anymore, you've been forgiven."
I suck my lip in and tap my fingers on the counter. "Even though I don't deserve it?"
Roman sends me a sad smile. "No. Because you do."
There's a silence that spreads among us and Roman smiles again before going to take the order of a group of girls that'd approached the bar. I watch him work and sip my drink slowly. In spite of the loud electronic music and the dank smell of alcohol and sweat, I found myself completely comfortable in the club. More than comfortable. Content.
Brown eyes flicker up to mine and I realize all too quickly why that is.
He made me feel better. I didn't know why and I didn't know how, but he did. Not happy, no. I don't think I will be happy for a long time. But he makes me feel seen.
Roman's the first to break the stare, smiling down as he hands the girls their drinks. He wipes down the condensation on the table before whipping his towel over his broad shoulder, walking towards me again. I glance over at the girls still staring at him, clearly appreciative. I smile up at Roman. "I think they'll become regulars pretty soon."
