Lies Beneath the Cherry Tree

chapter 11

Sean's POV

I grab the empty boxes and toss them into the trash outside, trying to distract myself. Parker left for school, leaving me alone with Lyllea. She’s still asleep upstairs, and the silence in the house is unsettling.

I know I have to get home today. My stepmom Kelly will lose it if I don’t, and I really can’t afford to push her buttons right now. We agreed last night that I’d stay with Lyllea during the day, and Parker would take over at night. It makes sense, but I hate the idea of leaving her alone with him. I trust Parker—I really do—but something about him being around Lyllea all night bothers me. It’s not jealousy… is it?

I heat up the pancakes Parker made and grab the banana smoothie from the fridge, heading upstairs to check on Lyllea. When I get to her room, I notice the bed is empty.

“Lyllea, you in there?” I knock on the bathroom door, but there’s no response.

“Lyllea?” I knock again, my concern growing.

Suddenly, I hear a loud crash from inside. My pulse skyrockets as I pound on the door.

“Lyllea, open the door!” I shout, my voice frantic.

There’s a long pause, and just as I’m about to break the door down, it swings open. Lyllea stands there, smiling at me—a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping out and locking the bathroom door behind her.

“Lyllea, what happened in there?” I ask, my heart still racing.

“Nothing,” she replies, her voice too casual. “I’m just gonna make breakfast,” she says, brushing past me without making eye contact.

My eyes narrow as I watch her walk away, something isn’t right. That smile, the way she avoided looking at me—it’s all wrong. I step into the bathroom, my gut telling me I’ll find something. At first, nothing seems out of place, but then I see them: two tiny dots of red on the floor. My heart sinks as I bend down to inspect them. Blood.

I glance up and see a small drawer above me. I hesitate, then open it, and my worst fear is confirmed—a blade, small and sharp, stained with fresh blood.

I feel like the ground has been pulled out from under me. My stomach twists with a mix of anger, fear, and something else I can’t quite name. I close the drawer, trying to keep my hands from shaking as I head downstairs.

When I see Lyllea sitting at the table, casually eating breakfast, wearing that long-sleeved hoodie, it hits me like a punch to the gut. She’s hiding something. Without thinking, I walk over to her, grab her left hand, and pull the sleeve up before she can react.

“Sean!” she squeaks, jerking her arm away from me, but not before I see the fresh scars etched into her skin.

“Lyllea, what the hell is this?” My voice trembles, a mix of disbelief and fury.

She quickly covers her arm, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and shame. “Sean, what the fuck? You can’t just—”

“Why would you do this to yourself?” I cut her off, my voice thick with emotion. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I take a step closer to her, closing the distance between us. “Lyllea, talk to me.”

She avoids my gaze, her eyes fixed on the floor as she mutters, “This is how I cope.”

The words hit me like a sledgehammer. I knew she was struggling, but this? My mind races back to all the times Dylan hurt her, and how she always defended him, never letting anyone see the full extent of the damage. She’s been through so much more than I realized, and the thought of her being in this much pain tears me apart.

I take her hands in mine, pulling her closer until our foreheads nearly touch. “You don’t have to do this,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “You don’t have to hurt yourself.”

She looks up at me then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You don’t understand,” she whispers back, her voice trembling. “I don’t know how else to deal with it.”

Before I can stop myself, I pull her into a tight hug, feeling her body stiffen against mine before she finally relaxes. I hold her close, burying my face in her hair, my tears soaking into the soft fabric of her hoodie. “You’re not alone,” I murmur into her ear, my voice choked with emotion. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

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Lyllea's POV

After school, Nathan heads directly to my house. Sean and I have been sitting in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. I’m relieved to see Nathan’s car pull up outside, but I can’t shake the knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach.

“I guess I should go then,” Sean says, getting up from his chair.

I don’t know what he’s thinking. Is he angry at me? Pitying me? Or is he just disgusted? I can’t read him, and it’s driving me crazy. I’m grateful he’s been here, but part of me just wants him to leave. No one else knows about my cutting, not even Nathan. I stopped two years ago, but after what happened with Dylan… everything came rushing back. The panic attacks, the nightmares. I couldn’t handle it anymore, and the blade felt like my only escape.

As Nathan walks in, Sean pauses, his eyes flickering between the two of us. There’s a tension in the air, something unspoken but heavy, and it makes my skin prickle.

“Take care, Lyllea,” Sean says, his voice low and rough, before he turns and heads for the door.

“Sean,” I call after him, my voice barely above a whisper. He stops, his hand on the doorknob, but he doesn’t turn around. “Thank you,” I say, my voice trembling slightly.

He nods, his back still to me, and without another word, he leaves. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone with Nathan.