Way Back Home

Chapter 4

The dining room was lavish, as always. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the polished mahogany table, which was laden with an extravagant spread of food. But for me, the sight was almost dizzying. The last time I had shared a meal with my family, it had been a different world. A world where I hadn't felt the sharp edges of betrayal and loss, and where the ghosts of my past hadn't haunted my every waking moment.

The brothers sat around the table, each in their own bubble of tension. Devin, ever the stoic leader, kept the conversation flowing, but the light banter he used to share with us felt forced. Mason had taken to fidgeting with his utensils, shooting glances my way that screamed both concern and irritation. Nicolas sat to my right, quietly analyzing the situation, a storm brewing in his mind that he wasn't ready to share. And Vincent... Vincent was a volcano, simmering just beneath the surface.

"I still can't believe you just showed up after all this time," Vincent said, his tone dripping with disdain as he pushed his food around on his plate. "You think you can just walk back in here and everything will be fine?"

I could feel everyone's eyes on me, waiting for my response. I could feel the panic bubbling up inside, the suffocating grip of anxiety tightening around my chest. "I didn't expect everything to be fine," I shot back, my voice a little sharper than I intended. "I just... I needed to come home."

"Home?" Vincent echoed, incredulous. "You left us, Tori. You disappeared without a trace. You have no idea what that did to us."

"Maybe I do," I retorted, clenching my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. "Maybe I know better than you think."

"You know nothing," he said, a harsh edge to his voice. "You were just a coward, running away from everything."

I felt my throat tighten. "Stop it, Vincent," I hissed, the urge to scream rising within me. "Just stop."

"Or what? You'll run away again? That's what you do, isn't it?" He shot back, and I could feel my heart rate spike. The walls felt like they were closing in, the air growing heavy and thick, suffocating me.

"Guys, can we just eat?" Mason said, his voice strained as he tried to keep the peace. "Tori's back. That should be enough for now."

But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. I could feel the anxiety thrumming beneath my skin, a warning that I was on the verge of something I couldn't control. I needed to escape, if only for a moment.

"I'll be right back," I said, rising from the table. I could feel the weight of their gazes as I rushed out of the room, the chaos of the evening closing in around me like a storm.

Once in the safety of my room, I shut the door and leaned against it, gasping for breath. The walls felt like they were closing in, a sense of panic overwhelming me. I hurried to my closet, my hands trembling as I searched for my stash. I found it tucked away beneath some old clothes—an old shoebox filled with the remnants of my escape.

After a few moments of fumbling, I rolled a small joint, my hands shaking slightly. I lit it with unsteady fingers, inhaling deeply as the smoke filled my lungs. I knew it was a bad idea, especially with my asthma, but the calming effects were the only thing keeping me from spiraling completely.

I took another drag, my mind swirling with the tension I had just escaped. I had tried so hard to bury everything, to forget, but it was all coming back. And it would only get worse as the days wore on.

I exhaled slowly, the smoke curling in the air around me. This was my moment of solace, my attempt to ground myself amid the chaos. But it wasn't enough.

I moved to the window, cracking it open to let the fresh air flow in. I needed to clear my head, to make sense of the mess I was in. I didn't have much time left, and the weight of my impending fate pressed down on me.