Before I do anything, I feel Shepherd press up against my back, arms wrapped around me. He holds me to him, cold hands wrapped around me, but I know nothing would get me to pull away at this moment.
“I’m sorry, my hands are cold,” he says as he tries to hold them off my skin.
I take them in mine and pin them against my bare chest, hoping to warm them. And I feel like I fit somewhere. For the first time in my life, I fit somewhere. It’s like a puzzle piece that’s finally found a match.
But I know something’s going to ruin it. It always does.
Age Nineteen
“Rose?” I ask as I head down the hallway. Where the hell did she go? Did she find my father again? I wish she’d stop coming over uninvited. I wish she weren’t added to this fucking mix because while she can be annoying and pesky, she’s the only one who seems to care about me anymore.
When I see the open door, I swear my stomach drops. It’s been so long since that door has been opened that I seem to have trouble comprehending it. Ever since that day, it has remained closed. It’s only ever supposed to be closed.
I rush forward, realizing that there is only one person in this house who doesn’t know not to go in there.
When I step inside, I find Rose standing next to a large wooden desk, holding an old picture frame.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I yank the picture frame from her hand.
Rose jerks back in surprise before looking at me. “Just… whose room is this?”
“Why do you keep doing this? Why do you think it’s alright to butt your way into my life and do whatever you fucking please?” I ask, voice unsteady. “Do you understand what you’ve done?”
“What I’ve… done?” she asks. “What have I done? I just… walked in here. It’s just a room.”
“It’s not… it’s not a room.” That doesn’t even make sense. She’s right. It’s just a room, but it’s a room that was supposed to stay closed. A room we were all supposed to forget about and never touch again. I’m just upset because I never wanted to set foot in this room again because every time I do, I think of her. I see her.
“Who is she?” Rose asks as she motions to the picture I’m holding.
I lift it up and glance down at the picture that I remember always sat on her desk, but I don’t know if I ever truly looked at it. When I realize it’s a picture of her and me, I find myself surprised by it and my chest aches.
“She looks just like you,” Rose says.
I shake my head because we look nothing alike with her strawberry-blonde hair and the freckles that dot her face.
“Is she your sister?”
“Half…” I find myself saying, and I don’t know why. I’m supposed to be quiet.
Rose steps into me. “I asked you before if you had siblings and you said no. Why didn’t you mention her?”
I set the picture back down and look at the desk that still has a textbook open on it. It was for her college statistics class. It’s almost like she got up right in the middle of working on it and never came back. When I turn around, I realize everything in the room is the same as it’d been that day besides the large rug that’s missing. The one that she died on.
“Where is she? I’ve never met her. Is she at college?”
I feel like I can’t breathe as I walk deeper into the room. My world is spinning around me, completely out of control. Every moment I step free, I’m thrown back with so much more force.
“Killian,” Rose says gently as she reaches out to me.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
She pulls her hand back, a concerned look on her face. “Doing what?”
“Why are you talking to my father, why are you in this room, why are you pretending you like me, why are you being kind to me? What do you want?” I ask, feeling desperate.
She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m… sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean for it to come off like I was pretending. I’m not at all! I really like you.”
I shake my head. “I finally thought there was someone in my life who cared about me… but I don’t believe you. I know you’re lying to me. I don’t know how or why, but