Now I was trying to keep control of a situation that was spiraling without any end in sight. I had lost weight, and I wasstilllosing weight. Slower than before, but with it, my confidence was shrinking into a diminished pool. Every message I received seemed to only push me further down into this hole of numbness I was trying to ignore. But what could I do about it?
I kept smiling for those around me.
I tried to stay positive.
Sure, I was suffering, but I was going to do it in silence. I had to handle this myself. I was embarrassed and ashamed that I had let it get this far, and I would be damned if I put my family and guys through this crap just because I couldn’t seem to shake a bully. My mom had already noticed my weight loss, and I’d blamed it on being so active this summer, considering I’d upped my tennis lessons to three times a week. I had no idea if she believed me, but since we always told one another everything, I think she trusted me to tell her if something was wrong.
I’d broken that trust, and not just with her.
I hadn’t told my guys either.Besides not wanting to burden them with my problems, I didn’t want them to think that I was incapable of handling stuff like this. I didn’t want them to view me as someone they had to be constantly looking after or protecting. A burden. A problem. That was my nightmare.
Why was it so hard to keep it all together? So painful? I couldn’t do this forever. I just had to figure something out. Something before I was in so deep that there was no return. My heart hurt as I considered the moment when my boys had tried to talk to me about everything that was going on, right after they’d found me sobbing in the bathroom last spring. The raw fear I’d seen on their faces. The guilt that had surged over me because of that.
“Princess?” King’s voice was soft and pleading as my eyes slowly opened from where I was curled up on my bedroom couch. My parents were both out, and Sterling sat next to me, my feet on his lap as his large paint-stained fingers rubbed my ankle softly, his eyes moving between me and the show that we had on. I couldn’t tell you what we were watching, honestly.
“Hey.” My voice was rough from sobbing, and my eyes were gritty and sore.
King kissed the top of my head, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders as I felt someone sit down next to me, a familiar scent wrapping me up between the twins. I moved my gaze over towards Lincoln, staring blankly at the way his massive hands seemed to completely encompass mine in heat. There was something reassuring about that. Something that made me feel safe.
“Dahlia, are you feeling okay? St-Sterling said you haven’t had anything to eat since coming home?” Lincoln’s voice caught on his stutter, making my throat feel thick with emotion.
Growing up, he’d always had a stutter, especially when it came to the letters ‘t’ and ‘f.’ I could always tell when he was nervous or anxious, because his stutter would resurface, and knowing that it was because of me left me with a wave of guilt I could have never expected.
Lincoln had always hated his stutter, but I loved it. Then again, I loved everything about him.
The concept of food made me feel so fucking awful, though. Bile rose in my throat as I tried to not overthink it.
I nodded. “I’m okay, I promise.”
I wasn’t.
Ignoring the look they exchanged, King’s fingers stroking through my hair, I jumped slightly as my bedroom door slammed open, flinching again as Yates stormed in like an absolute madman.
“What the fuck, bunny? What the hell is going on? How long have you been—”
“Calm down,” King snapped, his voice hard as Yates’s jaw clenched before he looked at me with a silver gaze filled with anger and fear.
“Do not yell at her, Yates,” Lincoln voiced immediately, his voice absent of any previous softness.
Yates crouched in front of me, ignoring them both as he grasped my jaw and looked over my expression. “What is going on, bunny?”
“Nothing.” I swallowed hard. “I promise it’s nothing. It’s over now. It’s all over.”
It hadn’t been. It hadn’t been at all.
That had been the last time I’d openly talked about it with them, hating myself for how upset I’d made them. I still felt that guilt on my shoulders, especially when they asked me questions about it, that same concern flashing in their gazes. So I avoided it. I promised myself it would never happen again. I would never do that to them again.
“Get it together,” I breathed out and then turned towards the door, slipping on my sandals. Bounding down the stairs, eager to see the guys again before dinner, hoping they were still out there, I couldn’t help but smile as my dad looked up at me from the foyer. His briefcase was on the floor, and he looked somewhat relaxed despite having clearly worked all day.
“Hey, pumpkin.” He hugged me tightly as I wrapped an arm around his waist, happy to see him.
“Good day at work?” I asked curiously. I was in part distracted, though, because the front door was open, and I could hear familiar voices outside. My boys.
“Very.” He nodded, his eyes jumping with something that truly looked thrilled. “You excited for this weekend? Also, where is your mom?”
“Golf and mimosas? Of course I’m excited,” I laughed.
My mother was there then, wrapping her arms around both of us as I smiled, feeling a strong sense of contentment. I was back to being ten for just a moment, where everything was as simple as trying to decide which movie we were going to watch after dinner together. Like I said, I could never take any of this for granted.
“The boys are still outside,” my mom pointed out as I walked towards the door. “Why don’t you meet us at Yates’s house? I want to show your dad something.”
… and you better believe I was out the door.