Pride and Papercuts (The Austens #5) - Staci Hart Page 0,74
part of all was a level of certainty that I could somehow make things worse, if I wasn’t careful. It was about as easy as cartwheeling through a minefield—the margin of error was massive. And I was apparently so clueless, I didn’t even know what a mine looked like.
I stayed in the shower until the steam receded and the water ran cool, replaying the day, considering the circumstances. Laney was rightfully angry—even though her fury over my altercation with Jett was the arrow she’d nocked, the pull of her bowstring was powered by her hurt over what I’d said to her last. But we were alike in that—misplaced anger was our communication method of choice. It was why I’d snapped on Laney and the reason for my vicious reaction to Jett and my sister. All reasons were valid, but rather than practice restraint, we’d left our feelings untethered to do their damage like a pack of vengeful, wild dogs.
And mine had the sharpest teeth of all.
I dried off and stepped out of the shower, knotting the towel around my waist. The fog on the mirror had already begun to retreat, leaving me with a view of my reflection, framed by condensation. Sometimes I could see the man I’d been before my parents died, young and facing a life of hope and possibility. I remembered the softness of my face, the smoothness of skin unmarred by worry lines, my thin frame. I’d never been what anyone would call cheerful, but I’d been lighter. Now there was nothing light about me. I was a shadow, a shade. A man older than his years, no longer thin, but with corded muscle cultivated from a desire to master my body when I couldn’t master my heart. Thick arms and broad chest, rolling muscles that gave me outward strength to offset my weaknesses. Physical strength I could use to save, to protect, just as I did with my mental fortitude. The man I’d become was worn and stubborn, fixated on a single mission.
Take care of my family.
It was easy, that directive. Following it simplified my life, my choices. Every decision passed through that gate like a cattle run into one of two chutes, a yes or no to the question that had come to define me. Does this help me take care of my family or hinder it?
It was that easy, that effective. But if I’d learned one thing over the last weeks, it was that nothing was so straightforward as to answer with a yes or no, not when it came to the inner workings of hearts. It wasn’t black or white, but a thousand shades of gray, almost indiscernible from each other. Really, it all boiled down to perspective. And Laney and I stood on opposite sides of a chasm, looking at contradictory horizons.
The Bennets had managed to upend my family’s life without lifting a finger and by no fault of their own. They existed and shared space with Georgie, Catherine. Me. And their presence alone was all it took to turn us inside out. To complicate things I’d thought were simple—or at least simpler than they were now. Because now Georgie had to live with her longing. My circumstance hadn’t changed much in that regard—all I could ever do with Laney was long for her, even in the moment she mistook and insulted me. Maybe even more in those moments. But I was too cynical and clumsy for anything more than longing, even if having her was a possibility. Which it wasn’t. Catherine had made that perfectly clear.
I hadn’t realized until then that somewhere in the depths of my heart, beneath layers of denial and expectation, I’d held a sliver of hope that maybe there was a way for Laney and me.
I pulled on sleep pants and an old Columbia T-shirt, scrubbing my hair with my towel before hanging it to dry. Still, I didn’t hear Georgie. Frowning, I picked up my phone, hoping for a message but found none. The next few minutes were spent rummaging for a meal and heating it up in the microwave, thinking about worst-case scenarios. Like Georgie running away with Jett. Or trying to sneak around still, knowing the consequences. Or worse—that she wouldn’t break it off with him, defying Catherine and putting me in the middle of it all, which I supposed was where I should be.
But before I could fully run away with that, the bolt on the door turned, and in she came.