War

Chapter Nineteen

A/N - little shorter but I love a cliffhanger ✌🏾

TW - upsetting scenes this chapter as well as mentions of self harm

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Marco
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I was certain that I was going out of my mind.

Between spending every waking moment worrying about Ezekiel and trying to function at the same time, I was losing it. It had been a week since we'd all sat down to speak to Ezekiel, since we'd found out he'd been harming himself since July; and I hadn't felt such guilt in my entire life.

Not since- don't dwell on it.

During one of the rare moments where I'd left my brother's side this week while he spent time with Elijah, my wife had dragged me out of the house for an apparent 'change of scenery'. And in her eyes, the local coffee shop was just that.

"I don't understand how you can consume such an off-putting drink", I spoke up after a few minutes of Aniyah driving; she'd insisted that she be the one in front of the wheel today because I needed to 'relax'.

Relaxation wasn't in my vocabulary, but I let her have it regardless.

"I could say the same about you", she squinted, "you strike me as more of a coffee guy than a peppermint tea one".

"Coffee is Zane's forte", I replied, "we're not driving in the direction of home". She stayed quiet for a moment, biting her bottom lip which only had me narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

"I need to make a quick...pit stop", was all she revealed, "it'll be quick". I'd have to take her word for it I supposed.

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The bookstore.

She'd parked her car outside the damned bookstore.

While Aniyah completely looked the part in a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable hoodie- one of my hoodies at that, I was dressed from head to toe in my usual three-piece black suit; take a guess at which one of us was overdressed.

"A pit stop, hm?", I raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading across her face, "you are what one would call an addict".

"I'd proudly wear that title if it meant buying more books", she lifted a shoulder and sipped her coffee, "are you joining me?".

"You'll try and spend your own money if I don't, so you leave me no choice", I muttered, unbuckling my seatbelt and exiting her BMW, rounding it to open her door for her. She was already halfway out of the vehicle before I could blink- she never did allow me to be a gentleman.

Aniyah led the way inside, the smell of paper ingraining itself into my nostrils the second I set a foot in the building; an unfortunately familiar bleached haircut behind the counter spiking my agitation. It wasn't as if I disliked my wife's friends, but the fond smiles and conversations with nothing but eye contact with this Alexius made my pulse spike for unknown reasons.

It's called jealousy, idiot.

I wasn't one to become jealous, so I locked that thought away in the furthest part of my mind; unclenching my jaw and following Aniyah as if I were her shadow.