She has returned, changed..
She was an innocent 15-year-old girl who had been through too much to list. Silently, she fights her own battles and tries to pull through. Eventually, she finds peace and comfort in her 5 brothers who help her heal over...
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AIDAN'S POV:
"SO WHAT are you doing today?" Nicholas sparks conversation randomly, and I mentally prepare myself for a hypocritical lecture from him. "Oh wait, pretty predictable! You're going to sit here, in this.. spinny chair thing and drown yourself in hacking that doesn't need to be done!"
Wow, a wild guess.
I run my hand down my face and take a deep sigh. This is guaranteed to end up badly.
"Surprise surprise! You gonna tell me the next time I breathe too? I'll stop breathing just so you can play predictor!" Sarcasm is easily noticed in my tone.
"I'm just saying, I know it's hard, Aidan. It's hard for all of us, but you have to move on."
My chair rotates an ungodly speed to face him. He's never gone there before. I glare at him, but he doesn't back down. Just hoping he takes that as a warning.
"it's been three years. You need to stop looking for a de—" He doesn't get to finish his sentence when I grab him by the collar.
It's hard to overpower Nicholas, and I'm sure he'll push me over and start beating me up or something, but I need him to understand I'm not ready to accept it yet, and I don't think I ever will.
She can't be dead. Not now, not today, not ever. She was supposed to out live me and inherit all my goods for fucks sake. Use it on whatever the hell she wants. She wasn't supposed to die before she could legally drive a fucking car.
"Don't, Nicholas. Just fucking don't," I spit, breathing heavily.
As expected, he shoves me off him easily, and I nearly go stumbling back into my desk, though I manage to stabilize myself and get steady on my feet again.
"It's unhealthy, Aidan. You need to let go. Please, I'm worried about you."
No, you're not. You just want us all to move on so we can be a happy family again, Nicholas. I see right through you.
Pretty sure that's the first time I've ever heard him say please.
"I don't care, Nicholas. Didn't you see her, see her in that box— all bloody and fucking bruised? I'm not ready to move on yet, and you are going to have to accept that."
"When will you be ready?"
To that, I say nothing.
Silence bounces of the walls of my room and I'm suddenly acutely aware of the fact I don't know when I'll move on. I don't know if I will ever move on. And fuck, she wouldn't want this. She'd never want this.
And for a starters, it's been 3 years and I can't even say her name without breaking down.
Nicholas intently stares at me, waiting for an answer, a break down, the slip of a few tears. Something.
