Copyright © 2020 Drethi Anis

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Dedicated to all the wonderful readers and the friends I have made through the reading community. Thank you for helping me achieve my goal with Book One.

Also dedicated to all the wonderful Beta Readers. Thank you for taking so much time out of your lives to help me improve this book.

A special thank you to Candy, Vickie, Amanda, Kathy, Crystal, Maria, Brianna, Kelly, and Alina for all of your help and insight.

I also have to mention the “Sugartit” girls from a certain Facebook group, all of whom constantly make me laugh. Thank you, Karen, for getting me into social media.

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Introduction

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

AUTHOR'S NOTE

BONUS BOOK

DESOLATE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

Introduction

I don’t usually read Introductions either, but read it anyways.

Isolation is actually the first book I wrote, so it’s only fitting to provide this book with an Introduction.

Most of us struggled in 2020. It has been a challanging year to say the least. I have my own list of complaints against this year. However, the conception of this series came from what I consider my personal tipping point.

Right when quarantine started, I fell, and the injuries required me to be confined to my bed with my leg propped up on a pillow, and using crutches for mobility. I was going stir crazy, most of it stemming from my worry over an uncertain future.

Like many others, I was not working anymore, and not by my own choice. I had a laptop, but my bedroom did not receive Wifi signal. And there was nothing good on television.

I wouldn’t say boredom or a need for distraction led to this book. Writing was simply a running joke amongst my peers because I told them that I would write a romance novel to pay their bills.

The final push came when I wanted to provide myself with perspective, in an attempt for gratitude. It was almost a form of therapy for me.

I considered how my situation would be worse.

The first thing that came to mind: Thank God I am not quarantined with my crazy family.

The second thing that came to mind: Thank God I am not quarantined with a crazy ex boyfriend.

I wrote fifteen pages on that first day. Soon, I started adding backstory for each chapter. After five days, hours of typing, and carpal tunnel syndrome, I had seventy-five pages. I sent the pages to a friend, who suggested splitting the book into three parts: past, present, and future. She defined it perfectly: descent into obsession, healing, and happily ever after.

Quarantined was easy to write while Isolation was a massive struggle for me, as my wonderful Beta readers can attest. I semi-completed this book months ago, then spent many more months changing it.

Come to find out, making your characters miserable is a lot easier than healing them. And finishing a book in three weeks is a lot more challenging when you are not confined to your bed with no other distractions (although a lot of fans did offer to break my leg again if it helped expedite the second book—one can only hope that they were joking).

Anyways, the point of this long note is to tell you about the conception of this series, but also to disclose the headspace I was in when I wrote it. This means that this book is not for the faintest of hearts, and the subject matter is heavy at times.

So, please do heed the warnings. Triggers include mental health issues, rape, dubious consent, and suicide. While it is not the main topic of discussion, I did write this series as a result of the pandemic, and it is the backdrop of this book. Please proceed carefully if any of these are triggers for you.

- Drethi Anis

P.S. For the readers who requested it, I have written an alternate point of view for one of the most popular side characters.

Book 1.5 is included with this edition. Simply scroll past the last page of Isolation.

Both books can be read in any order.

Prologue

From: Milo Sinclair

To: Raven Beckett

Date: December 31, 2015

Subject: Happy New Year

Happy New Year, Raven!

I miss you. It’s weird ringing in the New Year without you. It’s a new year, and I hope it brings new beginnings.

I know I went too far with you. I didn’t realize how much I hurt you until you ran away. Since the first time I flew to Paris, you’ve refused to see me again, and I hated our last conversation. Can we meet up so we can talk?

-Milo

From: Milo Sinclair

To: Raven Beckett

Date: May 3, 2016

Subject: Happy Birthday!

Happy 18th Birthday, Raven!

I am still in Paris, and I’d like to see you. Can you come out of your apartment?

If you are still uncomfortable being alone with me, we can go to dinner with your mom.

Look, I’ve respected your wishes for six months, even though I am worried that you won’t keep your word. Can you just meet me halfway for today?

From: Raven Beckett

To: Milo Sinclair

Date: May 3, 2016

Subject: Re: Come on, Rave

Milo,

We are family, and I understand how entwined our lives are. So, I do want to move forward from what happened. I promised to try to forgive you IF you left me alone. Yet, it’s been nothing but flowers, gifts, texts, calls, and impromptu trips to Paris. None of that resonates backing off or respecting my wishes.

I can’t be magically okay with an UNFORGIVABLE act within your approved time frame.

Please leave me alone!

-Raven

From: Milo Sinclair

To: Raven Beckett

Date: January 2, 2017

Subject: Mia

Raven,

Did Mia get to Paris alright? My parents changed their minds. They will be joining Mia for the last week of her break. I am attaching their itinerary. Their hotel is within walking distance.

I’ve respected your wishes for the last year. Can we now meet so we can talk?

From: Raven Beckett

To: Milo Sinclair

Date: January 2, 2017

Subject: Re: Mia

Milo,

Thank you for the itinerary. I’ll be at the airport to pick up your parents. Is Tessa’s new medication still causing nausea? I can stock up on ginger drinks if it’s an issue.

Mia got here safe and sound. She is having a blast. I am attaching photos from her site visits. If it’s okay with you, I’d love it if she can visit me this summer. She wants to go to Nice.

I am sorry, Milo. Nothing has changed on my end. I am begging you to move on.

From: Milo Sinclair

To: Raven Beckett

Date: January 2, 2018

Subject: WHAT THE FUCK!

Are you fucking serious!? You have been giving me hope for the last two years, while you have been fucking other men?

I made a mistake, but I gave you every option to let me rectify that. The only thing you wanted was time. You agreed to forgive me if I left you alone to process what happened between us. You agreed to discuss reconciliation if I still felt the same after some time had passed.

I could have convinced Theressa to let me take you back for your senior year. You were a minor under my care. I could have even kidnapped you, and there was nothing you could have done about it. Trust me, kidnapping wasn’t off the table. But I wanted you to love me by your own free will. You told me that the only way that would be a possibility is if I stayed away. So, I did.

I knew you were saying what I wanted to hear to get rid of me, thinking my feelings would fizzle. I am not stupid. I still gave you what you needed so there could be a possibility for us.

Is this the possibility you had in mind? This is what you were doing while you were trying to “forgive me?” You didn’t think I’d find out?

Clearly, giving you an option is futile.

I am flying to Paris. First, I am going to kill the asshole you have been fucking. Then I am coming to see you.

If you don’t open the damn door to your apartment this time, I am going to break it down and bring you back.

Alternately, you can come back to New York.

From: Raven Beckett

To: Milo Sinclair

Date: January 2, 2018

Subject: Re: WHAT THE FUCK!

1) Giving me an option so I can pick the one you prefer is not really giving me an option.

2) I am not currently in Paris, nor do I plan to return till Mia gets to Paris.

3) Who I fuck and don’t fuck is none of your business. We are not in a relationship.

4) I am not a minor anymore. Good luck trying to kidnap a grown woman from a free country.

5) I agreed to the possibility ONLY if I’m able to forgive you. I have not forgiven you.

READ THE FUCKING FINE PRINT.

From: Raven Beckett

To: Milo Sinclair

Date: January 4, 2018

Subject: FUCK YOU

YOU ARE A PSYCHOPATH! Did you really go to Paris to beat up my friend? He is in the hospital. I wasn’t even dating him anymore. What the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Do your worst! I’m not going back to New York and you can’t force me.

From: Milo Sinclair

To: Raven Beckett

Date: January 5, 2018

Subject: Don’t push me

I dropped him off at the hospital, didn’t I? It’s not my fault that your “friend” is a scrawny douchebag who fell down after one punch and hit his head. Really! That guy?

If you don’t want any more of your “friends” to end up the same way, don’t do anything stupid like that again. I might not be able to force you to come to New York, but I can force my sister not to go to Paris anymore. I just canceled Mia’s ticket. She will not be spending her remaining winter vacation with you. I am not buying any more plane tickets for my parents or sister to visit you again. It’s simple. If you want to see them, come to NYC.

From: Raven Beckett

To: Milo Sinclair

Date: January 6, 2018

Subject: Re: Don’t push me

Milo,

This is our last email exchange. I am scared of you, and I don’t want to communicate with you. If you have any family related logistic questions, please go through Mia or your parents.

As I promised, I hope to forgive you one day for the sake of our families. For the time being, if you contact me or come near me outside of the perimeters I have set, then I swear on Mia I will not keep my promise. There will never be a reconciliation. Please stay away because I do want to keep my word, and you know that I don’t lie when I swear on Mia.

I hope you change your mind about keeping Mia from me. She grew up having me as her sister. This will hurt her as much as it will hurt me.

I hope for nothing but the best for you.

-Raven

From: Milo Sinclair

To: Raven Beckett

Date: January 6, 2018

Subject: What is that supposed to mean?

Look, I am frustrated, and it’s hard to keep holding on to faith that things will change. Can we just meet up and talk this through? I just tried calling you, but it’s not going through.

MESSAGE BLOCKED

Your message to Raven Beckett has been blocked. See technical details for more information.

CHAPTER 1

March 13th, 2020

-----------

Milo

I look down at the two texts from Reid, but can only focus on the first. A text that had me canceling my meetings and pushing everything out of the way until I found myself standing outside of this familiar house. I cringe at the words as I read them for the hundredth time.

Reid: Hey, bro, heads up. Raven is back in NYC & moving back to the house. And… I’m going to ask her to be my girlfriend. Long story, but I think she is going to say “yes.”

I have already come up with ten ways to scoop Reid’s leering eyes out of their very sockets for even looking at Raven that way. Mia, that little shit, knows everything. She told me a while ago how Reid feels about Raven. He is lucky that I haven’t seen him since that revelation.

It finally made sense why Reid looked as shitty as I felt after Raven left. Reid and Raven have an unhealthy attachment. It’s a type of codependency that none of us conventional human beings will have the privilege of knowing. They were born an hour apart, to parents who were best friends. Tethered souls. One is never alright if the other is not okay. Or some shit like that.

There was a dark cloud hanging over Reid. I only saw Raven once after she left; the same darkness circulated her. They both walked around like corpses while separated. Alive, but only in terms of biology, how science would define you as a living being. Dead in every other way.

Come to find out; Mia had told Raven about Reid’s feelings around the time Raven ended things with me. Raven obviously couldn’t handle hurting his feelings, but she could handle hurting mine. I always thought Reid was like a brother to her, but now… I don’t know.

Her coming back means that I have kept my word even though she sure as hell didn’t.

Is she really considering his proposition?

The possible answer annihilated my remaining senses. I thought I couldn’t be a bigger monster. I thought wrong.

The same heart that only beats for one person was ripped out again. Now, it’s colder, lifeless, and black, never to be reinstated to its original condition.

Which is why it’s odd that my chest is somehow making a familiar thumping noise right now. It’s as if my heart is being pumped back to life with oxygen. It’s about to beat out of my very chest while I stare at a mass of black hair through the floor to ceiling window.

My cause for sanity, or insanity depending on your perspective, is standing by that window. Pure addiction. Excitement. Provocation.

Raven is standing in the middle of the living room in a tight, black dress. Not surprisingly, she has high heels on. I bet they are red bottoms. She was always a sucker for them.

Somehow, she is even more beautiful than I remember. When I last saw her, she was a teenager. Now she is all grown up and has truly grown into her skin. Damn, that skin. Her pale and rosy skin. Her dress is exposing her shoulders, and my starved eyes take it all in.

I watch her with fascination. I am transfixed by her expressions and captivated by her every move. I already know that I can’t stop this madness. She is too close. This proximity has broken every self-control mantra I have recited and every promise that I have made to her.

It takes twenty-one days to break a habit. It’s been four years, and she is a habit I still can’t break. Like a junkie, I am in proximity to my addiction of choice. I should walk away. I should find a rehab and check myself in. But all I can think about is taking another hit.

Who cares about morals? Who cares about burning both of our lives down? I will burn everything down, break every barrier, tear down every wall, till we are surrounded by nothing but chaos, and the only thing left standing is her and I. That’s all that matters. And our families are the ones standing in the middle of all that matters.

If that obstacle were to be gone, would she finally stop holding back? I want to say yes.

Taking out my phone, I send a text to Mia. A chill of excitement mixed with trepidation runs through my veins for the first time in years.

I am probably going to regret this decision.

I know I am triggered by her presence and the threat of losing her for good. There is a fog around me that’s not clearing. It’s not letting me come to a better conclusion than the one I just conjured up.

All I can see is her. I am blinded by that vision. I am trying to navigate through this obscurity to get to her by any means possible, because I can’t even breathe till I reach her again.

Raven finally turns, and we make eye contact. She is standing cross-armed with her game face on. All of her defenses are out. Something resembling a smile breaks out on my face.

Rushing towards the front door, I swing it open. I halt, needing a full minute to take her in. She stares back with a blank expression. Even that doesn’t piss me off right now.

“Rave,” I start. I am barely able to keep the chipperness out of my tone.

She doesn’t respond to me but gives me a nod instead.

“How have you been?” I try to sound friendly, hoping to hear her voice.

“Milo. Come in. Would you like a drink?”

It’s been so long since I have heard the sound of my name from her lips. I feel enchanted by it, but I can’t ignore the humor in the situation. Raven offered me a drink in my own home.

“You are inviting me to my own home and offering me a drink? Shouldn’t I be the one offering you a drink?”

“Okay. Get me a drink. I will take a dry martini with orange bitters and a lemon twist. Olives will do if you don’t have a lemon. I prefer it in a chilled glass. You can probably chill the glass in the ice bucket.”

And there it is. I smile. She is so damn cute when she wants to disarm me. She doesn’t have to try this hard. I am already floored by her.

I shrug off my jacket, still unable to look away. As we make our way to the kitchen, I notice something weird about Raven’s outfit.

Her dress has a back pocket, which seems fashion-forward even by Raven’s standard. But the truly weird thing is the pepper spray that’s peeking out of her back pocket. I shake my head at her attempt. She doesn’t feel my slight touch when I casually retrieve the pepper spray and pocket it.

I fumble around the liquor cabinet for martini glasses, but I can’t keep my eyes off her. I doubt I’ll be able to go through the ordeal of using the cocktail shaker to make anything resembling a martini. I spy a bottle of Malbec on the shelf. It’s her favorite so I offer it to her.

Our fingers touch when I extend the wine glass to her, shooting a familiar zing all the way inside. Fuck. The familiar intensity from just a little contact is like high voltage.

This girl. Scratch that. This woman is the only one who can do that. She is an enigma—my only anomaly.

“When did you get back to New York?” I ask apprehensively.

“A week ago,” Raven lies. She has been back for months, but she has been avoiding me.

I disregard the familiar irritation that arises and continue to ask more questions.

Raven tells me about working for our family friend, Karen. Raven also has to work part-time on the side, since her internship is unpaid.

“With the COVID outbreak, you can’t possibly work a part-time job now.” A few months ago, a virus called COVID-19 spread worldwide. The government protocols dictate that we stay indoors for the coming weeks. As a result, everyone is moving back to this brownstone to stay quarantined as a family. “So, you will stay here. We are all camping out in here as well.”

“I am glad that’s settled,” Raven nods, putting her wine glass down. “I wish I could stay and catch up, but I have to unpack. Thank you for the drink.”

What the fuck! Is she not even going to address the situation with Reid? The kind of anger only Raven can surge bubbles up. It’s mixing into a volatile concoction inside me.

Putting my wine glass down, I charge after her. I know that my actions are going to hurt her again. However, I don’t see another option for the outcome I need.

Today, one way or the other, our families will find out about us.

Raven is making a fast exit. Her destination is up those stairs to her room. Running behind her, I lift Raven up. She tenses in shock and lets out the loudest scream. I quickly walk us up the stairs. My destination is also up those stairs to my room.

With a struggling Raven in my arms, I walk to my room and push us onto the bed. Raven is making her case, using logic and rationality to talk me out of this. She should know better by now. I ignore all of her physical assaults and verbal abuse to lean over and kiss her.

My heart feels like it’s about to burst open again. I kiss her frantically while my whole body starts to shake. I haven’t felt this in years. Nothing has ever felt this good—this right.

I have always counted on our insatiable magnetic physical pull, but years have gone by since we have touched each other.

I am worried she might have lost that appetite for me. I need her to give in. I need that acquiescence that we are what I played us up to be.

I pull her dress up and her underwear down. Using one of my hands, I pin both of her wrists on her belly, pushing down to keep her locked in place.

I drop down, so my face lands on her pussy. With my free hand, I slip two fingers inside her and press my tongue on her clit. I start pumping my fingers as I keep up the torturous friction of my tongue.

Within minutes I feel Raven squeezing. I release her hands. If she truly doesn’t want me, this is her chance. I am not holding her down anymore.

Raven’s fingers settle in my hair, and my relief is instant. It’s still there—that connection.

The moment Raven sets off, I fumble with my own zipper. I swap out my tongue on her clit with my fingers and then swap the fingers with the head of my cock. I don’t want to give her a moment to think. Rubbing my dick on her sensitive spot, I extend her orgasm.

I take my time to enter her. Years of wanting this, hoping for this. I want to savor every second. Shock registers the moment I am inside her. I am shaking from trying to control myself.

The perfect bliss. A moment of true happiness.

I am a panting and growling mess, but I resist the urge to thrust until we are both under the same unbearable intensity. Slowly, I find a rhythm, taking my time to savor her. She is in my veins. Under my skin. My every thought. I am consumed by her. Utterly and in every way.

I could do this forever, but Raven’s orgasm has subsided, and so has her lust. She is a blank slate again. Expressionless. Icy. Freezing me out.

I feel a familiar antagonization at her rejection. I can’t deal with her numbness. I have given her everything that was ever good inside of me, and all she has done is put up barriers.

I kiss her all over, just the way she likes. Dropping my head to suck on her neck, I twirl my tongue around a sensitive spot of hers. Nothing.

I bet I know something that will get her attention. I pull Raven’s dress down, so it bunches around her midsection. Grabbing onto one of the cups of her bra, I yank it to the side.

My tongue swipes over her breasts, licking her nipple. I take it between my teeth, slightly clamping down. Raven hates this. I don’t plan to be rougher if only she gives me a reaction.

But Raven is staring at the ceiling. Completely frozen. Desensitized. Paralyzed.

I inwardly shake my head at myself. Losing control over my anger is not going to work in my favor. It’s what got me into this mess.

Changing course, I lick her warm skin. I could never get enough of the taste of vanilla. Starting at her breast, I lick my way to her neck and suck.

Raven relaxes enough to moan, and soon her moans match my panting. I am trying to control myself, but I have no dominance over her. Her body rules every part of me.

I lose control right when Raven arches her back. “That’s it, baby! Come with me.”

I pound into her till I find my own release and collapse on top of her. Stroking her hair, I whisper in her ears, but Raven keeps ignoring me. Although she is angry with me, she is angrier at herself. She hates that she never be able to break our physical bond.

“I missed you so damn much,” I murmur in her hair.

“And that justifies your reasons to force yourself on me?” she haughtily retorts.

“Raven, I didn’t exactly force you. I let go of your hands while I was going down on you. You could have pushed me off. Instead, you grabbed onto my hair.”

Raven turns to face me as if she can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. “Forcing me to climax does not change what this is,” she says through clenched teeth.

“No, but the fact that you did climax changes how you feel about this.”

“If you believe that, then why force me? To prove your dominance as the male species?”

“That wasn’t dominance,” I respond flatly. “That was insurance. You will never be able to break this pull between us. I needed you to know that before you did something stupid.”

Yes. I am her worst nightmare, but despite my depravities, this is about connecting with her, not about burying myself in her. I need her physical reaction to continue. Insignificant as it may be, she does have some control. Does she know that? Does it even make a difference to her?

Raven is wearing a blank look as if she has checked out. That look indicates she has slipped into her own world, her thoughts where no one else can reach her. She is also slightly shaking, possibly from anger. I am sure she is already formulating a plan to get away from me.

Not going to happen. I try to distract her with banter, but it’s futile.

Finally, she jerks free from my hold. I let her, only because it’s time. I have received the long-awaited text from Mia. A text that’s supposed to lead to an end to justify the awful means.

As I put on a pair of gym shorts, I watch Raven wrap herself in a bedsheet and fumble around for her clothes. She is always so put together that it’s cute when she is flustered. But my amusement only serves to irritate her. She haughtily turns on her heels towards the door.

Holding on to the doorknob, Raven pulls the door open with full force. I stand as well, knowing full well what lies on the other side of that door—no time like the present to finally rip off this Band-Aid. We are going to face the music. Together.

-----------

Raven

I stare blankly at the six most important figures of my life standing in front of me and am very aware of the one unimportant figure next to me who is the cause of this awful predicament.

I am standing at the doorway leading to Milo’s room. We just had sex. To be exact, he forced himself on me. I fought a lot, but I stopped fighting midway through, like always, which is what makes this situation that much more hateful.

The moment we were done, I swung the door open to Milo’s room to make my grand exit. As soon as I opened the door, I came face to face with my parents, Milo’s parents, Mia and Reid. I have nothing but a bedsheet wrapped around my body. I am completely naked underneath it. Milo managed to put on some gym shorts before joining me at the doorway. His filthy arms are around my shoulders as we face off with our entire family.

This is bad. This is so bad.

I cannot verbalize or form any words right now. Which is alright, because neither can anyone else. Six pairs of eyes are glued on our near-naked state. Everyone is stunned into silence. Everyone except Milo. Predicable!

“I am sure everyone is confused,” Milo starts calmly. “We didn’t mean for you guys to find out like this.”

We?

“Please wait for us downstairs,” Milo continues. “We’d like to talk to the whole family and address all of your concerns. Raven and I just need a few minutes to get ourselves together.”

Despite Milo’s request, no one makes a move. Milo is a natural-born leader. He can easily assert himself without being forceful, so people gravitate towards him. Everyone, except Reid, trusts his judgment and obeys his orders without arguing back. This includes both of our parents.

Milo always knows best. Under any other circumstance, I would have loved it if people didn’t immediately bend to Milo’s will. But in this situation, I need everyone to be gone. I am silently begging them to comply with what he is saying. I would much rather be locked in that room with Milo again than be out here facing what’s going on.

I want to make this all go away. I want to sink or be buried. This can’t be real!

I am sure the guilt is written all over my face. I can’t make eye contact with anyone. Out of the corner of my eye, I try to watch Reid. His face is turned away, looking at the hallway wall. If only I could read his expression right now. Or better yet, if only I could turn back time.

Why the hell are all of them in front of Milo’s room anyway?

I have to say something to explain, but I don’t even know how to begin.

This is a misunderstanding? I just happened to be naked and wrapped around in nothing but Milo’s bedsheet? I tripped and fell on Milo’s dick?

Uncle Reese is the first to break the silence. “Come on, everyone! Let’s go downstairs and give the kids some privacy. I am sure there is a simple explanation—”

“Simple explanation?” my father’s voice booms out. “Reese, your son is standing half-naked with my daughter. I mean, look at them,” he disgustingly motions towards us. I am mortified. I can’t meet Dad’s eyes, so I keep my head down.

“I am aware, John,” Uncle Reese speaks calmly. “I am sure they’d both like to have the opportunity to explain—”

“Opportunity to explain what?” Dad cuts off Uncle Reese again. “My daughter is not some tramp meant to keep your horny son entertained.”

“Now wait a minute, John,” Tessa chimes in. “I understand you are upset, but there is no need for name-calling.”

“Uncle John,” Milo says coolly. “I’d never see Raven that way. I am sorry you had to find out this way, but I might as well be honest with you. I love her.”

I feel like someone just stabbed me with an ice pick. There is a freezing effect spreading throughout my body. I am nothing but a freezer burn item, void of everything: all thoughts and all feelings. All I can do is watch how this plays out.

Milo’s words seemingly have the same effect on everyone else as well. Everyone is stunned back into silence. It’s completely quiet as his words echo through the hallway.

“How long has this been going on?” Theressa finally speaks.

“We’ll explain everything and answer all of your questions,” Milo says in a sugary-sweet tone. He is back to his polite self now that he has defended my honor against my father’s words. “We’ll have a serious conversation with the whole family, but not like this. We are going to get dressed and meet you downstairs. In the meanwhile, if it helps to know, this is not some fling. I understand how seriously this impacts our families. Give us a few minutes, and we’ll explain.”

When will this nightmare end?

Mia must notice the misery in my face because she comes to the rescue. For once, Mia doesn’t give any sass or attitude. That’s the thing about her. She can act like a spoiled little princess, but when push comes to shove, she is the only one who always has her shit together. Mia will survive this world. She will survive us all.

“Alright, guys! Let’s give them some privacy to get dressed and wait downstairs. It will be better if we can all sit down...”

Mia trails off as Reid turns around and angrily marches off. His loud footsteps echo as he makes a forceful exit. He is walking towards the staircase. Everyone looks in his direction, but no one makes a move. I stare after Reid, frozen in place.

I feel Milo’s hand on my naked shoulder again, jolting me out of my momentary lapse. Shrugging his hand off, I instinctively make a run towards the staircase. I am still naked, with only a bedsheet wrapped around my body. But I have no more shame left. I am running like a crazy woman. I have to stop Reid. I have to talk to him.

“Reid!” I scream.

Reid doesn’t stop as he makes his way down the stairs with quick footwork. He heads straight to the door. I follow him down the stairs, but the length of the bedsheet is longer than my body. One of my feet slips on the edge of the silky sheet that’s trailing on the floor. I lose my footing on the stairs and feel myself tumbling down. I let out a scream at the top of my lungs.

“Shit, Rave!” Reid yells as he turns from the door to rush towards my body, which is lying motionless on the floor.

There’s a stark pain in my ass and legs. I can’t move. Did I fall?

I hear a commotion. Fluttering my eyes open, I see Milo running down the stairs. Reid tightens the bedsheet around me and collects me into his arms. I feel myself being lifted up.

“Fuck, Rave!” I hear Milo’s panicked voice and a hand stroking my hair. My head is throbbing. “Here, let me carry her.”

“Back. Off.” Reid says through clenched teeth.

“Reid, I do not have time for your shit right now. This is your fucking fault. If you hadn’t thrown a tantrum, she wouldn’t have run after you. If anything happens to her, I will put your face through the wall.”

“Enough!” Uncle Reese’s normally calm voice is gone.

What is going on? I am so confused.

“Reid, take my daughter to her room,” I hear my mother speak. “Mia, go with him and put some clothes on Raven. Tessa, show me where your towels are. We probably need a few.”

My father’s unmistakable voice is next. “Milo, go to the guest room and grab my medical bag. Bring it to Raven’s room. I am going to wash my hands and meet you there.”

“Shouldn’t we take her to the hospital?” Milo sounds incredulous.

“No. Most of the hospitals are currently overrun. There are two doctors in this house. We have enough medical supplies. We will observe her first.”

Shit. It sounds like there are actual adults in our lives who are taking charge. Too little, too late. Where were these people when we were children? Reid and Milo seem so small all of a sudden. They always seemed larger than life without our parents around.

I feel myself being jostled around. After a few moments, I am being pushed down on a soft surface. I think someone is putting clothes on me as I am yanked and moved. I try to open my eyes, but I am having a really hard time. Suddenly, I feel nauseous.

“It’s okay, Rave. I’m here.” I feel comforting strokes on my hair and Reid’s distinct smell. “I promise I’m not angry. None of that matters anymore. Nothing matters as long as you’re okay. Please be okay, Raven. For fuck’s sake, why isn’t she responding?”

I try to open my mouth to respond, but I can’t find the strength. I can’t focus, but that smell is so comforting. It reminds me of home.

“She might have a mild concussion,” a man’s voice speaks.

“I spoke to someone from Sinai. I got her a private room at the hospital and just put the deposit down. I’m taking Raven to the hospital.” Is that Milo’s voice?

“I don’t need you to throw around your money or your connections. She is staying here, and I will do a thorough assessment. I know what’s best for her. She’s my daughter.” I assume that’s my father who is speaking so sternly.

“Yet I am the one who took care of her longer than you ever did. For God’s sake, Raven fell down a flight of stairs. Why the hell are you guys acting so calm? She is not responding. She definitely has a concussion. I don’t give a shit if you are both doctors. I am not going to compromise her health so you can feel like bigger men.”

“Milo, son. Just let John and I do a quick assessment. I promise to give you my professional opinion. If she really needs to go to the hospital, then we won’t stop you.”

I don’t hear any more words spoken after that. I feel Reid’s comforting smell and the stroking of my hair vanish.

“Sweetie, can you look at this light. Try to follow it with your eyes.”

What the hell. Someone just blinds me with a light, flashing it right into my eyeballs.

Rude! I can’t focus as more directions are thrown my way. I try my best to listen to them. But I feel myself slipping away and consumed by a dark hole.

-----------

I can barely open my eyes. There is a throbbing in my head, and my vision is a bit blurry. I feel confused. Disoriented. Lying slightly on my side, I try to move my hand to my head, but everything only moves in slow motion. As I try to sit up, two hands grab my shoulders.

“Hey,” someone says softly and tries to nudge me back to the soft pillow right as I manage to lift my body. “Don’t try to move. You need to rest.”

“Wha… Milo?”

“Yeah, baby, I am right here.”

My heartbeat increases at the confirmation that he is here in person. How? My heart is about to burst out of my ribcage. “What? H-how are you…Was...whaat’s… goin on?”

Something worse than Milo’s presence dawns on me. I can tell from my own slurred sentences that I am not okay. Something isn’t right. Why can’t I speak properly? How come I can barely move? Maybe I am drunk. I don’t feel drunk. Am I dreaming?

I have to know what’s going on. Milo is quiet, but I urge him. “Please, tell… me,” I sob.

“You fell. Dad thinks that you have a concussion. You just need a lot of rest for the next few days. Come back to bed.”

None of it makes any sense. Even if it is Milo, I am still relieved to see a familiar face.

“Do you want some water?” he asks.

I nod, but my eyes start to close again. “It hurts,” I whine when I try to move my head.

I see his figure moving. Milo grabs a bottle from the bedside table and slips something bitter in my mouth. He then holds the water bottle up to my lips. I can feel my dry, chapped lips slurping and chugging all of the water.

“Come here.” Milo puts the empty bottle on the bedside table and collects me in his arms. My head hits his warm chest.

I might not understand what’s going on, but I know that it will all be okay.

-----------

Milo

My eyes fly open to find Tessa’s face hovering over mine. “Mom? What time is it?”

“It’s almost six p.m. You should come downstairs for dinner.”

Fuck. I fell asleep in a seated position against the headboard of the bed. My neck is stiff. Raven is lying sideways on a pillow, with her face tucked against my thigh.

“I’m not hungry,” I say in my still disoriented voice.

“Milo, you have to eat something. You haven’t left her side. You are worrying over nothing,” Tessa gently chides. “She is going to be okay. John and Reese both came to the same conclusion. It’s a mild concussion. She is a little confused and just needs to sleep it off.”

She is right, but I still can’t leave Raven’s side. Hearing her fall down those stairs conjured up my crippling panic. I haven’t experienced it in years.

My business partners joke that I have turned into a soulless piece of shit without humanity and empathy. The panic attacks stopped around the time this accusation took root.

I feigned concern at their observations, but I honestly couldn’t see it as an insult. I am still a functioning member of society. I fly under the radar despite my indifference to life.

I just live life on autopilot based on my learned habits. Work. Family. Responsibilities. Bills.

However, Raven is apparently still able to invoke other feelings, albeit they are only applicable to her. She is the only thing that kills the mundane because she is not a learned habit.

Which is why my paranoid mind keeps conjuring up the worst. Dad assured me she would be fine, but I need evidence of her mortality. I keep checking her pulse to ensure that.

“She will be okay,” Tessa assures. “But, you know, we haven’t addressed the other issue.”

“Mom, I can’t do this right now. Not when she is like this,” I motion towards Raven.

“You told everyone that you love Raven. You must understand why we are concerned.”

“Why are you concerned?” I ask her curiously. “We are both adults. Our dads are best friends. Our families love each other. Everyone should be happy if I want to be with Raven.”

“Milo, you used to be her guardian. Do you know how that looks to other people?”

“I don’t care what other people think. I have no intention of letting her go again.”

Tessa contemplates my words for a few minutes.

“Letting her go again?” she frowns. “M-Milo, exactly how long has this been going on? W-was there anything going on with you two when you were her guardian?”

My silence is the only answer Tessa receives.

She drops her voice at my lack of response. “Milo,” she warns, “please tell me you did not have sex with her while she was still underaged.”

When I still don’t respond, realization dawns on her.

“Jesus, Milo!” she gasps in shock. “How could you be so stupid? You are supposed to be the responsible one.”

Tessa starts pacing the room. “John is going to kill you,” she stops abruptly to announce. “For God’s sake, he could press charges for statutory rape. What were you thinking?”

I shrug. “I don’t care what Uncle John does.”

Tessa stares at me with a blank look for far too long. I don’t know if she is stunned into silence or thinking about what to say.

She finally speaks, “He loves her. You know that he does.”

“Uncle John doesn’t get to play the doting overprotective father. He left her for years.”

“I wasn’t talking about John,” she says quietly.

I know what she is insinuating. It doesn’t change anything. “Reid will get over it.”

“When Reid and Raven were young, we used to tell them that they would end up marrying each other one day. We used to plan their future wedding.” Tessa crosses her arms and stands tall in front of me. “I don’t know if Reid ever stopped believing that. We all saw the look on his face when he saw you two together. I don’t think Reid will get over this. I am his mother. I know him.”

I stand to level with Tessa, finally displaying the irritation I feel over my sleepless nights.

“Please don’t tell me how you know things because you are our mother. I was more of a parent to Reid than you were. As far as I am concerned, I have paid my dues. My only concern is moving forward in my life with Raven. So, you see, Reid will get over it.”

Life might have hardened me, but it didn’t make me forget my responsibilities. I have stepped up throughout it all.

I went to school, took care of this family, and became a success. I might not be involved in the day to day of the family anymore, but I still pay all of their bills.

All the while, Tessa has been in and out of manic-depressive states, putting this family through hell.

It’s pathetic for her to use the “mother” card. The only reason she is functioning now is because she started a new clinical trial.

But it’s always the same cycle. Every time a new program works, she stops going to therapy, or the drugs are futile, or the side effects are too strong.

No matter what, she reverts back. Still, I have dealt with her shit time and time again.

I am not dealing with her shit where Raven is concerned. Raven belongs to me. I have barely factored in Raven’s vote. This decision stands despite how Reid or Tessa feel.

“You’re right,” Tessa quietly agrees. “I’m sorry. We ask a lot of you, but you never complain. You always step up to the plate, and I keep taking that for granted. Of course! It makes sense that you and Raven want to be together. Reid will understand. I’ll talk to him myself.”

I give her a nod, having driven my point home.

“But you have to promise me something too. You and Raven can’t tell John that you were in a relationship when she was underage.”

“I am not going to ask her to lie for me.”

“Milo, I’m giving you what you want. I’ll talk to Reid and Raven’s parents. But John is emotional and impulsive. What if he calls the police to file a report against you?”

I shrug again. “I don’t care.”

“If you don’t care about John pressing charges, do you care that Raven might not want to be with someone her parents disapprove of? John will be even angrier if he finds out that you were romantically entangled with his only daughter while you were legally her guardian.”

I am quiet, and Tessa realizes she has finally figured me out. Raven is my kryptonite. Tessa is right. I need Uncle John to be on my side.

“What do you suggest that I do?”

“Nothing. Just don’t say anything—” Tessa stops short when the door creaks open.

We both turn to find Uncle John opening the door to Raven’s room.

Tessa tenses. “I was just leaving,” she mumbles and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

She gives Uncle John a nod before walking out. I give Uncle John a nod as well, but he ignores me.

I have always liked Uncle John. He has always shown me respect, but right now, he is pissed.

Uncle John is notoriously religious and conservative. Since catching Raven and me in the act together, he won’t even look me in the eyes.

However, Uncle John and Theressa are now living under my roof, so he has to talk to me at some point.

Everyone was shocked to find out that Uncle John managed to convince Theressa to take him back.

Apparently, Raven finally grew a pair and confronted her parents about why they split when she was younger, leaving her parentless and stranded. Yet, they are now back together after Raven became an adult, and they no longer have any obligations towards her.

Theressa sent some unsavory emails (most likely under the influence of alcohol), admitting to Raven that she never wanted children. After receiving an offer for her dream job in Europe, Theressa left both of them behind, unsure how a child would fit into her new travel schedule.

If they didn’t have kids, she would have taken Uncle John along. Over the years, Theressa considered reuniting with Uncle John but hesitated due to her need for image preservation.

How would it look to others?

What kind of non-divorced parents leave their child behind and live it up abroad?

Fucking narcissistic Theressa.

After years of him prodding her into it, Theressa finally decided to take Uncle John back, but only after Raven moved to Paris.

As for Raven, she recently moved back to America. My guess is that Raven wanted to be closer to the Sinclair clan again after her parents doused her with the truth she secretly suspected: their cause for seperation was Raven.

Soon after, her parents also decided to move back. They have been wracked with guilt over sending those emails to Raven and for admitting those awful things.

Now, they are Team Raven all the way.

Uncle John is suddenly acting like an overprotective father. Every time he comes in here to check on Raven, he seems more pissed off than before to find me with her.

He takes Raven’s vitals and checks on her wounds. Finally, he clears his throat to address me.

“Umm, she is dehydrated. Has she been getting fluids? Did she eat anything today?”

“She barely woke up earlier for some water and a few spoonfuls of soup. But I stocked up on water and coconut water,” I nod towards the mini-fridge I moved into her room.

Uncle John looks at the mini-fridge. “Good. She needs to eat more before taking the anti-inflammatory.”

He then studies my unshaven and disheveled face, looking conflicted before finally asking, “So, how long has this been going on with you and my daughter?”

I hesitate for a moment. “Uncle John, I’d rather that we talk about this once your daughter is awake. Raven has the right to tell you herself.”

“Yet, she chose not to.”

“You guys haven’t always been close over the years,” I simply point out.

Uncle John closes his eyes. His worried face is disheartened, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He has been genuinely worried about her.

All of Raven’s insecurities started with this man in front of me. He turned Raven into a cynic. Then again, I also showed Raven the ugly side of love.

He and I are just the same.

“I know,” he whispers. “I was not a good father. She deserved better. I failed her, but you stepped in. You did more than Theressa or I ever did. I-I just didn’t see you two in that light.”

“I don’t know how it happened,” I speak sincerely. “But it did.”

“But why her? You used to be her guardian. Do you know how that looks to everyone? You are both going to be mercilessly ridiculed. Milo, you are a good-looking man. You are successful and an eligible bachelor. Women chase after you. So, why does it have to be her?”

“It has to be her,” I grit through clenched teeth. “I always wanted to be with her, but I couldn’t because—” my eyes flip up to meet his.

“Because of me,” Uncle John finishes for me. We both awkwardly stare at the floor, following his admission. The room is silent except for the sound of Raven breathing.

“You became her legal guardian because I asked you to take care of her,” Uncle John sighs. “You couldn’t be together even after your guardianship ended because there would have been too many allegations. All because Theressa and I were selfish parents.”

It’s true. Their shit decisions took away the chance for us to have a normal start.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “I didn’t know how you two felt about each other. But I respect you for not crossing that boundary with her back then. Is that why Raven left New York so abruptly; she was upset that you two couldn’t be together?”

The real reason why Raven moved to Paris without finishing her senior year is very different from the official story given to the parents.

Raven told them that she got accepted to the International Fashion Academy of Paris for a remote internship for her senior year of high school. The adults raised their eyebrows, but since Theressa lived in Paris no one questioned it.

I keep my expression neutral instead of giving him a response.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” he sounds unconvinced. He also sounds… understanding. “You two are going to face a lot of scrutiny from everyone we know. But if you stick it out, then you will get through it together and come out stronger.”

“You’re serious?” I am unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.

“I’ll admit that I am still shocked,” he says slowly. “However, you are both adults and I know you are a good man, Milo. If you truly love my daughter, then I am not going to hold back my blessing. I just want her to be happy.”

I have been so engrossed in Raven’s health that I haven’t considered what happens once she is fully conscious.

I told everyone I love her. They haven’t questioned how Raven feels about me. If they ask whether she is happy, Raven is not going to keep up the ruse once she is lucid.

The bright side is, our families are finally on board with us being together. If Raven still seeks approval from both of our parents like she used to, the transition might not be as difficult.

I give Uncle John an appreciative nod, feeling more hopeful. He awkwardly hesitates again before speaking.

“Umm…one more thing. Can you two sleep separately? You might be adults, but we are still your parents. I am very uncomfortable with this arrangement.”

I smile agreeably, but I don’t verbally commit. Sure, he might consider it disrespectful to sleep in his daughter’s room. Both of our dads are religious. They don't approve of premarital sex.

However, I pay the mortgage here. He is my guest. My house, my rules.

After answering some more of my questions about Raven’s symptoms, he decides to join the others for dinner while I wake Raven up to give her the pills.

Raven takes the pills and falls back onto the pillow. Her eyes are barely open, she looks like she is about to go back to sleep.

I greedily stare at her. In her perplexity, mixed with the concussion and the painkillers, Raven has forgotten to hate me. She has been letting me take care of her and hold her while she sleeps.

I lift the comforter and collect her in my arms. Every time I hold her, I stop breathing, expecting words of protest. But nothing. She stays put and then buries her head on my chest.

Raven is fast asleep again with her head resting on my chest. She is letting me hold her close enough to let that smell of hers linger over me, lulling me into a lethargy of my own. She is still the only oxygen machine that truly works for me.

I stare at Raven’s face on my chest. It’s covered with bruises, just like her hands and legs. Her upper lip is puffy. Her leg has to stay elevated on a pillow with a compressor around it.

I can objectively state that her face busted open. Our family members cringed when they saw her after the fall.

Yet, that very face can capture my attention like nothing else ever could. Even now, I could stare at her for so long that I’d forget to eat, drink, or sleep.

She has the kind of face that you use words like magnificent and brilliant to describe like you would for an art piece. She defines the word aesthetic.

I want her.

I want her so fucking much.

I want her with every fucking fiber of my being.

She has an intoxicating hold on me that I can’t fight off. It’s the same as an addiction.

A familiar gnawing under my skin is back. It’s itching to get out, itching to touch her. It’s hard to breathe till I can.

I tell myself that I can’t. She is in no shape for my depravities. I know this is a terrible idea. Yet, I can only watch as my face moves down to her mouth.

-----------

Raven

Right after moving to Paris, I hated being touched. But my curiosity over why people chase sex as the desired form of physical contact sparked my determination to get over it.

I liked sex with Milo because it provided me with oblivion. Was everyone else also trying to reach oblivion? Is it just about a physical release, or is it about connecting with another human?

I started exploring the physical realm, hoping that the same experience could exist with anyone, not just with Milo.

Alas, it was never so mind-numbing or intense with anyone else.

Your first sexual experience can define your later sexual preferences. In my case, that is definitely true.

After going through a string of lovers, I finally gave up on sex completely. It’s been a couple of years since I have had sex.

It just doesn’t interest me anymore.

Until now. Now all of my senses are heightened, and every touch is driving me crazy. My body is buzzing and covered with goosebumps. I can’t help but make a small humming noise.

I don’t recall the last time I had a sex dream. They are not usually this vivid. The dreams stay inside my brain. They don’t transfer from my subconscious to my skin.

Yet, this dream has. My mouth, cheek, my jaw, my neck; all of it is being kissed. The most sensitive part of my neck is being sucked on.

An arm grips my waist tightly, and I feel my head hitting something soft. The kisses are now complemented with gentle nipping.

I reach my arm around the warm neck to find support in a headful of hair. I moan loudly and feel a hand fall on my mouth, muffling my sounds.

“Shhh… baby, we have to be quiet. Your Dad will retract his blessing if he hears us.”

“Mmmm,” I hum, and the grip on my mouth loosen.

Even if I don’t understand, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters as long as these sensations don’t stop.

The hand travels south and inside my shorts. Within seconds, two fingers are inside of me, slowly circulating and then gently thrusting.

I moan even louder, and this time, I hear a chuckle.

“Fuck it. I don’t care. Be as loud as you want. Let them hear. Maybe they'll learn a thing or two from us.”

Cool air hits my nipple. I think my breasts are exposed. Soon enough, there is something wet on it, moving my sensitive nipple around.

I am focused yet lost. Every sensation on my skin is amazing. Every touch is heightened. Each kiss, each bite, each swipe of presumably a tongue is going deeper than it’s meant to go.

These touches are nothing but a lump of receptors sending off euphoric signals to my brain. My toes are curling, and my head is knocking back on its own.

It’s an unbearable feeling.

Slowly, my eyes flutter open to see a hazy figure in front of me. I catch a flight of dark brown hair sucking on my nipple.

My shorts are slowly peeled down. I can’t take it anymore. As I squirm to rush the movements, two hands grip my hips to halt my movements.

“No, baby. I have to be careful with your leg.”

I don’t understand this conversation. What leg? I have no leg. I have no body. I am just a concept floating around. Yet, I feel my lower body being slightly lifted.

I look down, and it finally clicks.

My leg is elevated on a pillow, with a compressor around it. Milo is slowly peeling my shorts down to my compressor. He takes my left leg out of my shorts, leaving it hanging around my right leg.

My eyes widen as my vision sharpens. Something is wrong. Something is off. I know this feeling. I have experienced it before.

I think I am high.

I am definitely high.

I am very high.

I am high, but I am not dreaming. This is happening.

“We can’t,” I mumble.

My voice is barely audible.

What the hell is going on?

I don’t know how this is happening. I try pushing his shoulders, but my limp hands have no effect.

I am motionless. There is nothing I can do except watch him do whatever he wants.

I watch as Milo lifts one of my legs, he stretches out between my thighs, and slips his tongue inside me. It has the same effect as it always does.

Mind-numbing. Thought erasing. Euphoric.

More euphoric than ever before.

I am about to formulate more words when I feel myself slipping away. I watch him use two fingers to run a line between my folds before going back to sucking my clit.

Everything slows down. It’s like a slow-motion movie. My body wants to move. My hips want to buck forward to chase more friction, to increase the speed.

He is working me torturously slow. As he continues to run his tongue and slip inside, I shudder.

I am a mess. Numb yet sensitized. There are no thoughts other than the thought of the slow friction I am chasing. My body starts to shatter.

I come so slowly that it feels never-ending.

I haven’t finished coming down from this elation when I feel Milo pushing inside me. I’d know that feeling, the feel of him, anywhere. High or not.

“Fuck,” Milo pants and lifts my non-injured leg to settle into the empty space. His eyes are radiating as his shallow breaths fan my cheek.

“Milo, no. We can’t,” I groan.

“We can,” he moans. “You want me. All I did was kiss you, and you reached for me.”

Milo’s mouth comes crashing down on me. I try to grab his face and pull his mouth off me.

He grabs my hands and entwines them with his own, pinning both of them on the mattress as he grinds. He starts to suck on my neck, and I start to ride this high out like there is no tomorrow.

We come at the same time, with Milo holding me until I slip into the same oblivion I could never otherwise find.

CHAPTER 2

-----------

Raven

This. Is. A. Nightmare.

It’s my actual fucking worst nightmare. It started days ago, and it will not end.

First, I woke up with Milo draped over my body. That moment was followed by a revolving door of our family members pouring in and out of my room.

Hazy realizations are coming together like puzzle pieces. Milo dragged me to his bedroom, we got caught, and I fell down the stairs.

Since then, he has been keeping me high on painkillers. That fucker even had sex with me last night while I was doped out of my mind.

He put my clothes back on, so I didn’t realize till foggy memories of our fuckfest came back later in the day. He forgot to give me another dose of Vicodin, which is why I am lucid right now.

I have a splitting headache—a full-on migraine. But everyone keeps on talking, going on, and on.

My parents came by earlier today to give me their blessing over Milo and me being an official couple. Now the Sinclairs are here. Kill me now.

“... now you really get to be our daughter. Truly a part of this family. We are so happy you two made it official,” Tessa has been going on for five minutes.

“Come on, Tessa! Raven has always been our daughter,” Uncle Reese pipes in.

“Of course, she has,” Tessa agrees. “But now it’s official.”

This situation is getting worse. They are talking like we are about to get married. I have to get out of this mess, but how?

I have already moved out of my place. I am broke. My parents are broke. My brain is foggy. I am immobile. My right leg is injured, and it has to stay elevated.

They caught Milo and me right after we had sex. There is no way for me to deny the labels they are throwing without looking like a giant slut. This is not something I can easily come back from, especially with Milo’s declarations of love.

I am cornered, and Milo knows it. He is just sitting on the bed with an amused look, playing the role of the perfect “boyfriend.”

“Well, should we break out the good champagne to celebrate?” Uncle Reese suggests.

I need a plan, but it’s so hard to think with all of their irritating cheerfulness. It’s causing my analytical skills to slip, and it's being replaced by this irritability that I cannot explain.

“No,” I say curtly and in a very harsh tone.

Everyone turns to me in shock. Even I am shocked by my tone. I might speak to Milo that way, but I have never spoken to Uncle Reese or Tessa that way. It’s not in my DNA.

However, I feel paranoid. None of them should be okay with Milo and I being together. We know too many people in this city, and dating your ex-legal guardian is a scandal of an epic proportion.

There is only one reason why they would be okay with this. The whole family depends on Milo. He is the primary breadwinner now.

I can’t shake the suspicions that they are all trying to manipulate me. Are they letting him have me as a consolation prize for his years of service to this family?

I can't even fight back. No one speaks up against Milo, except for one person, the only person I need to see right now. But every time I ask for Reid, they keep changing the subject. Why?

Mia, who has been quiet this whole time, comes to my rescue. “Guys, I think Rave is still tired. We should let her rest. Let’s go to the split-level and put on a movie on the big screen.”

“Umm. Yes, yes, of course,” Tessa fusses.

“Of course, dear. I am sorry,” Uncle Reese joins in, clearly bewildered by my rude tone.

I open my mouth to apologize, but Uncle Reese puts up a hand.

“It’s the concussion, dear,” he softly explains. “It causes irritation and disorientation. All this talk is going to bother you and test your patience. You just need some rest and privacy.”

He turns to Milo and goes into doctor mode, firing off instructions as Milo writes it down on his phone.

The Sinclairs are already out of the room when I realize that Milo is staying behind. Now that I know he is not going to change, our proximity in an enclosed space is cause for critical alarm.

Milo shuts the door before I can call them to come back. Then he shuts down his laptop that’s sitting on my desk.

“I missed you today.” He turns his attention to me. “I feel like I haven’t had you alone for a single second.”

I turn to find Milo’s eyes fixated on my mouth. My eyes dart back to the door.

Milo shouldn’t be allowed here this late in the evening. In the Sinclair home, couples don’t sleep together unless they are married.

We used to get away with it because of our absentee parents. I might have been conceived out of wedlock, but our dads were both raised in the church.

How has Milo been getting away with sleeping in my room with both of our dads living in this house?

I turn back to him when the mattress dips under Milo’s weight as he bends his knee on it.

“You know, we have the all-clear from the doctor if you want to—”

My eyes widen in mortification. “You asked my father if you could have sex with me?”

“No. I asked my father if we should refrain from being physical. I wanted to know if there could be any complications before we had sex again.”

“Uncle Reese would never…” I waiver when I remember once again that this family does not deny Milo.

Instead, I ask the question that’s been lingering on my tongue all day. “Did you orchestrate the whole thing so our families would catch us together?”

I hold my breath for his answer.

Even Milo wouldn’t stoop low enough to allow my religious father to catch us naked together and to put Reid through that trauma. There has to be some sort of decency left in him.

“You have a vivid imagination,” he replies dryly.

That’s not a yes or a no.

“Enough, Milo. Even if you didn’t stage it, you are still telling our families that we are together. I know you are trying to manipulate me through them. Fuck you!”

“That’s what I am trying to get you to do.”

I close my eyes and take a long breath. My migraine is coming back with full force, and I have no idea how to deal with Milo.

By the time I open my eyes again, Milo is standing by the nightstand. “Dad prescribed pain meds and anti-inflammatory pills for your leg. You don’t need to take them after tonight.”

Fuck. That reminds me of a different pill. I reach for my purse and rummage through the contents to find my birth control.

I took it on Friday, but not over the weekend. It’s Monday, so I have missed two days. However, I have heard that if you have been on the pills for long, you have to be off it for a while before it makes a difference.

Or is that wishful thinking?

I can’t get pregnant with Milo’s devil spawn. I just can’t. The universe can’t play such a cruel joke on me.

Milo reaches back. He doesn’t comment on the birth control in my hand but holds out two pills of his own. One of them is broken in half.

“Here.”

“Why is that one only half?” I point at one of the tablets, but I grab them both.

“These pills are highly addictive,” he unscrews the water bottle. “You just told me you were high last night, which means you have been getting high on pain killers for days. Your frame is small. I think the bigger dose is affecting you.”

Half a pill is actually safer against an opening for sex on opioids. Besides, I am not as focused on physical pain as the one in my chest. I take the pills, chug the water, and turn to him.

“Where is Reid?” I ask for what seems like the hundredth time today.

“You should get more rest,” Milo’s voice is stoic, his expression unreadable. He takes the empty water bottle to throw it away. “Don’t worry about Reid.”

I have to speak to Reid to somehow explain what happened. “Can you ask him to come to see me?”

Milo’s voice is monotone. “He already came by to see you while you were unconscious.”

“I’d like to see him post unconsciousness.”

“So, go see him,” he shrugs.

“How?” I ask slowly. “I can’t walk.”

“That sounds like a you,” Milo points his index finger at me, “problem.”

I stare at Milo, feeling dumbfounded.

I have been paying attention throughout the day. Milo is starkly different, yet he is the same. He is still polite, but now he is unapproachable. He is disengaged. Dismissive.

Milo always had a master poker face. Now, his face is genuinely void of emotions. He is not masking his feelings; I fear that he has none left, which is not good news for me.

They say psychopaths are born, but sociopaths are made. Milo was not born evil. His lack of empathy, volatile and impulsive tendencies all started later in life. All of which points towards sociopathic behavior. So, what resonates with a sociopath?

Narcissism?

“Thank you for taking care of me the last few days.” I close my eyes to hide any emotions. “Will you please help me so I can talk to Reid?"

“Why do you need him so badly?” he asks, irritated. “I am here. Tell me what you need.”

“I just did!” The words come out a little harsher than intended, shooting an onslaught of pain right to the middle of my skull. I hold my forehead in response to the migraine.

“Rave,” Milo sits down next to me and strokes my hair. “You need to calm down. This is not good for your concussion.”

“It will calm me down to know where Reid is,” I squeeze my forehead.

Milo sighs. “Reid left the house and never came back. We don’t know where he went.”

My eyes snap wide open as I stare at Milo. I slump backward on my pillow and wait for any emotion to hit me. I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing. Empty. Like being dead on the inside.

Milo scoots closer and wraps his arms around me. I don’t make a single move, taking in the momentary warmth of consolation.

No words are exchanged between us. My morbid state must have inspired some pity. When Milo speaks again, I don’t hear the same patronization from before.

“I told everyone not to say anything, but I promise Reid will be just fine. He’s a big boy. He knows how to take care of himself. It’ll be okay.”

But it won’t be. Nothing will be okay now.

When my parents left, I was sad, but I could deal with it. When Milo and I didn’t speak, I was devastated, but I could deal with it. When I was apart from Reid, I spiraled. He did too.

We don’t know who we are without each other.

I slowly untangle myself from his hold. “Has anyone spoken to him?” I ask.

“No, but we have all called and texted him,” he explains. “Reid just needs some space.”

“Milo,” I say softly, “Reid has a pattern of drinking himself half to death. Do you remember the time Reid and I got into a fight? He drank so much that we found him passed out on the street. What if he does something equally as stupid? Have you considered that?”

“I have,” Milo admits. “I called everyone we know to see if they have heard from him. I even sent someone to his dorm to check if he is there. There is only so much I can do.”

“You can tell him that we are not together,” my eyes flip up with hope. “Reid is upset because he doesn’t want us together. We can tell everyone that we played a bad prank. Everyone can text Reid to tell him what he saw wasn’t true—”

“I am not going to do that,” he cuts me off as if it's the end of discussion.

I don't bother pressing the matter. It's pointless, and it’s fucking distressing. My migraine is out of control, and arguing with him is futile.

I feel suffocated after being back in this house for less than a week. Moving back was a bad decision.

I need to find a way out of this house.

-----------

Milo

Raven started withdrawing the moment her medications wore off.

My Raven, who has been sleeping in my arms, is gone. Now, she is looking for a way out of this house.

Fuck that.

When Raven doesn’t respond, I explain the situation in the way her logical brain can process.

“Our families already think we are together. They had barely gotten over the shock of catching us in the act when half the house heard you climax last night. We can't pass that off as a prank.”

Raven looks at me in mortification, but I hold up a hand.

“I tried to quiet you down, but you wouldn’t listen. Now that they know about us, why don’t we work on fixing things between us?”

“There is no fixing this, Milo,” she replies in a defeated voice. “You haven’t changed. You still had sex with me after I told you to stop. How can you think there is any coming back from that?”

“Obviously, there is because you still reciprocate every time.”

Raven seethes, but instead of blasting me, she says something worse, “Whatever. Just find Reid.”

Not this again. Every time she mentions him or pines for him, I feel the familiar surge of anger clawing inside. I reach for Raven’s arms and slowly start to flex my fingers in till I hear her take a sharp inhale.

“How long have you known about what Reid feels for you?”

Raven is tight-lipped about what they discussed before I moved back, but her tense look is telling.

I really shouldn’t push her while she has a concussion, but… “Do not rile me up by continuing to talk about him,” I growl in a low voice. “You are insane if you think he is coming anywhere near you again.”

“What!" Raven exclaims in shock. "You can’t do that. You can't keep him from me!"

“I sure as hell can."

"Fuck you. Get away from me and find Reid.”

“Enough, Raven!"

"I told you I need to talk to him."

"Do not ask for him one more time—”

“FIND! REID!”

My body reacts before my mind does. One of my hands moves to the nape of her neck and the other around her waist.

Pulling her to me, I swoop down to her lips.

Lips smashing together.

Collision course.

Heart pounding.

Adrenaline.

Rush. Pure rush.

I barely feel Raven’s nails clawing my cheeks and neck. Drugs block your pain receptors so the message can’t be carried to the nerve cells in your brain.

Raven is my drug of choice. Pain doesn’t affect you when you are this high from the drug you consumed.

Raven is digging her nails in harder, trying to move her face. But the hand I have around her neck is strong enough to hold her still.

I keep kissing her, not giving her an ounce of space. We are both out of breath when I break the kiss.

I have only pulled away for a second when Raven blurts out, “Milo, stop! Reid and I are together—”

-----------

Raven

Milo comes down on my mouth at full speed. He barely breaks the kiss when a plethora of verbal diarrhea takes over. “Milo, stop! Reid and I are together—”

I stop short, having realized what I just said. Milo freezes as well. He is still holding me tight while I struggle to get away from him.

He narrows his eyes at me. “What?” he asks a little too quietly. “What did you just say?”

It was the only information I could have shared to shock him enough to stop. But it was too much.

I stare at him and brace myself for the blow that’s about to come.

“Raven!” Milo growls as he shakes me violently.

“I want to be with Reid,” I blurt it out again.

There it is. The detail I planned to tell Milo the day we reunited after years apart before I lost my nerve.

Clearly, my concussed brain is suspended of all logic. I let the words slip out.

Milo’s eyes turn from shock to hurt to… anger. Pure. Fire. Anger. He grabs both of my arms to shake me, but he doesn’t have to as a familiar panic is shaking my body on its own.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Milo yells. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “Tell me you are lying. Assure me that you lied to provoke me.”

When I don’t say anything, Milo’s eyes reflect the same murderous rage as his tone.

“Remember what I told you once? I’ll kill any fucker who touches you. Do you want me to murder my own brother?” Milo speaks the words evenly and without an ounce of emotion.

That’s when it hits me how wrong I was about my assessment. His sociopathic tendencies surpass normal impulsivity and volatility. He is unpredictable to a whole new dangerous level.

“Did you sleep with him?” Milo manages to spit it out; eyes darkened past recognition.

“W-What? N-no, I haven’t,” I am starting to stutter. I can’t help it. I am freaking out.

“Are you lying to me?”

“M-Milo, I s-s-swear,” I stutter again. Milo is possessed. I had only seen him like this once before—the day before I left for Paris.   “We didn’t sleep together. I swear on Mia.”

His face visibly relaxes for a millisecond before hardening again. He is looking at me with rage. Madness. A storm that’s about to hit and obliterate everything in its vicinity.

“Whatever was between you two, it’s over,” he says flatly. “You are never to see him again. Ever. You will never speak to him either.”

“That’s not possible. You know—”

“Shut the fuck up, Raven!” Milo’s lethal fury and the dead look in his eyes successfully shut me up. “Do not fucking argue right now.” His voice is trembling as if he has no control left.

Milo is unhinged. He used to try to restrain himself. Now that he knows about Reid, I am afraid that any restraint he might have previously exercised is far gone.

He wraps one hand around my waist, and the other grabs my hair. He collides his lips back onto mine before I have a chance to move my mouth.

He breaks the kiss to speak against my lips. “You think you have other options?” he hisses. “You don’t. You’ll never be rid of me, so you might as well accept this and save yourself the misery.”

All of those words are sadly true, I have come to realize. Milo is a lunatic that I’ll never be rid of.

I left my life behind to get away from him. Even then, I had peace because he allowed it. Now that he knows about Reid, he will never allow it again.

Even a restraining order wouldn’t do any good. He would break it without regard. I can’t enforce a restraining order without calling the cops. Milo knows I’d never press charges and put the Sinclairs through the misery of finding their eldest in jail.

The only way I’d be rid of him is if I leave everyone in this family behind and disconnect from them completely. Sadness ripples through me at the truth of my situation.

“I can’t live like this,” I say hoarsely, my voice reflecting my desperation. “Please, stop this madness. If you care about me even a little, let go of this insanity.”

“Never,” he answers with a sense of finality. “I told you that I’d do anything for you. I’ll even forget the urge to kill him. The only non-negotiable part is that you are mine.”

“Never. I’m not yours. I’ll never—”

In a swift move, Milo shifts my body to sit behind me, cutting off my words. He positions me in the space between his thighs, his long legs trapping my frame between them.

One of his hands reaches around my breast to tip me, so my back hits his chest. He leans us against the headboard, slips his hand inside my shorts, and grinds my core with his palm.

I try to pry his hand out. “Milo, stop! I’ll fucking scream if you don’t stop,” I threaten. “Everyone in this house will hear me.”

“Baby, you know that the sound from this room doesn’t travel downstairs,” he says sadistically.

I freeze when I realize that he is right. And if the Sinclairs already think that I am in a crappy mood, they are likely to avoid this room anyways.

“I’ll go easy on you because you are injured. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he whispers. “But if you keep fighting me, I’ll forget about your injuries and focus on what you just disclosed. Make the logical choice.”

-----------

Milo

Raven’s body is shaking with anger as she sorts through her limited options.

I am pissed too. So fucking pissed. There is only one thing that can calm me down right now.

I need to feel her wetness right this second. I need to hear her scream my name.

My hand starts to shape her body to touch everything she has denied me over the years. I run my hands over her thighs, belly, and chest.

Sliding up her tank top, I let her breasts spill out.

Fuck. I am going to blackout from that visual alone. I can feel her heartbeat as my hands roam her chest, squeezing her breasts.

I tilt my face to press a kiss on her cheek as I curl my fingers inside her.  Raven grabs my hand, having decided on her route. She is going to fight me instead of taking my advice.

“No! You can’t pull the same crap again.” She violently thrashes.

Raven’s injuries are serious. She might hurt herself. I should stop for that reason alone.

So, why can’t I get myself to stop?

“Get. Off. Me.” Raven enunciates each word.

“No,” I curtly state without further explanation.

There is no point in explaining. I am her hero when she accepts me. I am her worst nightmare when she rejects me. I have stopped trying to explain that to her a long time ago.

“Milo, stop!”

“Shhh,” I coax her gently, sighing with relief as soon as I feel her getting wet. I needed that.

I tilt my head again to watch for her reaction. Raven has exhausted herself from trying to fight me off. She simply turns her face away from me.

Raven is relentless, even though we can both feel her lubrication coating my fingers.

“At this point, you are fighting yourself, not me,” I whisper against the shell of her ear. “Why won’t you just admit that you want me as much as I want you?”

“You’re right,” she whispers back angrily, still refusing to look at me. “I do want you.”

I freeze at her unexpected admission. My fingers inside her stop moving. I am about to ask what she means when she adds the next part of her comment.

“And it’s killing me. You can force me to react positively to you, but you cannot force me to feel okay about this. We’ll never have anything more than a sick physical connection. Every time you fuck me, I am reminded of that shallow bond, and part of my soul gets ripped away by the time we are done. So, go ahead if this is what does it for you. I won’t fight you anymore.”

My face contorts. I’m glaring at the back of her head with a mixture of lust and anger.

Actually, not anger. It’s more like a lethal hell-bent fury from another dimension.

She made me wait for years, only to come back for my brother. Now she is downplaying our connection to gut me.

Her actions do not justify my behavior, but Raven rules all of my conscious and subconscious thoughts.

I need to know that the same is true for her.

I need her to know that I am the only man for her—the only one she is allowed to think of, to dream of.

I roughly grip her hair with one hand to wrench her head back, my mouth moving to the back of her neck to bite down.

True to her word, she doesn’t fight me but stays hell bound on ignoring my ministrations, as if waiting for me to finish.

I pull my cock out of my sweatpants with my other hand. Using the arm around her waist to lift her up, I position my hips under hers to guide my cock to her opening. I slide her down on my hard cock and tighten my hold around her waist.

“Fuck!” I clench my teeth as her tight pussy squeezes my dick.

I slowly lift her with the hand around her waist and slide her back down on my dick again. Her right leg is still stretched out in front of us, elevated on a pillow.

All movements need to be careful.

After a few moments, I tilt my face to see her biting down on her bottom lip.

I almost smile. Stubborn little thing. She doesn’t want me to hear her moan.

Raven finally bucks, surprised by her own reaction. “Oh God,” she cries out in my arms.

Raven's body is clenching; her little pussy is squeezing me so damn tight. Her hands are fisting into my thighs.

“See baby, you react like this because physical exchanges are heightened when your body connects with someone your soul is connected to," I whisper in her ear. "Your soul craves me because it’s not a shallow bond. It’s the deepest bond you have experienced. That’s how I have always known that you are mine. Every part of your body subconsciously knows that you belong to one man: me.”

Her voice slightly croaks, but she doesn't make any legible sounds.

I can feel Raven’s thighs quaking. Her back is arching against me, her nails are clawing my thighs as if she can’t take it for a second longer.

“That’s it, baby,” I praise her ability to let go. “Don’t hold back now,” I nudge her further into it.

She screams, moaning incoherently. As soon as I hear the orgasm wrenched out of her, I yank at her hair  to move her face. I devour her mouth and come.

We are both shaking.

My hands are trembling.

I kiss her hair and hang on to her tightly until I feel her heartbeat slow down. Once we both calm down, I reposition her to pull out.

“You are so beautiful,” I murmur as I move her to the pillow.

Raven fixes her clothes while I swap out her old compressor for a cold, new one. Her leg is looking better. She should be fine by tomorrow.

Raven doesn’t acknowledge my presence while I tend to her. When I am done, she stares blankly at the ceiling.

I drop my sweatpants and shirt on the floor before climbing on the bed. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, my head hits the same pillow as hers.

I am staring at her in awe, like the obsessed man that I am. I am drowning in her. She is so beautiful with her hair in disarray, her breasts jutting out, and her lips bruised from my kisses.

My numb arms are lying limp on top of her. She is still staring at that damn ceiling, while I am staring at her.

Minutes go by as I idly wait for a quiet Raven to speak. I mentally will her to feel the same fierce insanity I feel for her. To crave me, as I crave her. Like a drug. Like an addiction. Because that’s what she is to me.

She is an unbearable addiction. It's insufferable. My body isn’t my own and my mind isn’t my own until I have her.

I gave Raven half a pill to avoid causing dependency, but it’s my dependency that's breaking her.

Yet, I am never going to let her go again. She is crucial to my existence.

My gaze stays horizontal, still obsessing over the only woman I have ever wanted.

Her gaze stays vertical, still hating every part of me.

She can hate me all she wants. That's alright.

I love her enough for both of us.

-----------

Raven

As soon as I see sunlight sweeping through the window, I give up trying to go to sleep and experiment with putting pressure on my leg.

I am able to hop around today, so I slowly make my way downstairs and head to the living room couch.

We are supposed to have a family brunch today. I want to take a shower beforehand, but I rather wait till Milo leaves my room to do so.

In the interim, I am glued to my phone.

I have already sent numerous apology texts to Reid this morning. All of my calls are being forwarded straight to his voicemail.

There is nothing on his social media either.

I just want to know that he is safe.

“How are you feeling this morning, Rave?”

I look up to find a calm and collected Milo cascading down the stairs. He looks freshly showered, shaved, in blue jeans and a black T-shirt.

The room still seems hazy from my lack of sleep. I instinctively pinch my forearm in an attempt to wake myself up.

My eyes go back to my phone. “Just... recovering from my brain damage.”

“Brain damage?” Milo chuckles. “Aren’t we being slightly melodramatic?”

“We are not. Concussion is a form of brain damage.”

“No, concussion is a brain injury that can possibly lead to brain damage.”

I eye the staircase behind him, instead of arguing with him some more. “I am going to go take a quick shower before brunch starts,” I point towards the stairs. “I’ll see you later.”

He gives me a curt nod, and I slowly limp my way upstairs. I am shocked by our civil exchange based on what transpired just last night. It’s mindfuckery to the ultimate.

I discard my clothes to change into a bathrobe. While the tub fills up with hot water, I sit at the edge of my bed to type an email to Reid since texting is clearly futile.

I am so engrossed in my phone that I don’t notice Milo’s looming presence on top of me. I stop typing when I finally notice his shadow.

He is looking down at the phone screen. Quickly, I hit the lock button on my phone, but it’s of no use.

He saw who I was emailing.

“Everyone is downstairs now,” he says rigidly. “Your mom wants to know if they should wait for you to start brunch.”

“No,” I whisper. “They can start eating without me. I’ll come down shortly.”

Milo makes no effort to move. He is visibly stiff, and I eye his agitated body language. The room is thick with tension without either of us having to speak.

Finally, he leans over the bed to grab my phone out of my hand.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Milo doesn’t respond to me. At least he doesn’t know my code, so he won’t be able to unlock the phone to read the email.

However, that wasn’t Milo's intention.

Milo walks over to the window with my phone in hand, opens the window so I feel the chill of winter and nonchalantly throws my phone out of it.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Did that just happen? Who does that?

I have no idea how to process this, but I do know that I need to cut my losses right now.

Milo closes the window and turns to stare at me with his unnerving gaze. Without thinking twice I hobble towards the bathroom to lock myself in, as it’s closer than my bedroom door.

Milo charges behind me, picks me up by the waist, slamming the bathroom door behind us. He spins me around and pins me to the wall, using one hand to trap both of my wrists.

He looks more of a fanatic than ever before.

My panic comes back with full force. I can’t choke out a single word no matter how hard I try.

I start shaking from my dread.

Milo is shaking as well but from anger.

“I thought I made myself clear about Reid,” he spits venom through his clenched teeth. His voice might be low, but it’s unforgiving.

When my shaking registers with Milo, a small frown forms on his forehead. He rubs the side of my body with both of his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay,” his tone immediately changes to something more gentle. “Shhh, Raven. I am not going to hurt you.”

One of his hands wrap around my middle, the other starts to stroke my hair. He doesn’t say anything more. Instead, every so often Milo kisses my temple.

I still can’t formulate words. I have never frozen up like this before.

Minutes pass. Milo starts talking, this time in an even more soothing voice.

“I am not angry. You just can’t talk to him anymore, that’s all. I told you that.”

“You have me. You don’t need him. You have to forget about him, okay?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you, baby.”

“Shhh, don’t be scared.”

“Take all the time you need. I am right here.”

“I am not going anywhere.”

The trembling starts to subside with each one of his mollifying word. The oxygen is finally pouring freely inside of me.

Every time I breathe, I take in Milo’s musky scent. It smells like Xanax with one breath and then morphs into horror with the next. Sometimes, it’s a mixture of both.

In the end, the villain in my book, the antagonist who is causing this anxiety, is also the one to alleviate me of it. It’s ironic in every way.

Milo doesn’t budge after pacifying me. As soon as it registers that I have stopped shaking, he drops kisses all over my face.

Keeping me in his tight embrace, he slowly sucks on my bottom lip. He gently licks my lip with his tongue before moving inside my mouth.

He holds the side of my face firmly and keeps stroking my tongue till my head starts to spin.

I am out of breath, and my brain is out of power by the time his fingers come into play.

His soothing words turn dirty as he tells me how wet I am. Arousal from panic is another shock to be digested, but I restart my struggle all the same. I can't help wondering if the visual in front of me is real or if it's in my mind.

Despite my thrashing, Milo holds me against the wall with easy effort and undoes the knot of my robe.

He opens up the robe enough to free my breasts, which feels more exposed than taking the robe off completely.

I don’t notice him undoing his own belt and pants. I don’t notice when he lifts me by my thighs either and slipping inside me with minimal resistance.

“You are already close,” he breathes around my breast before sucking on my nipple.

I am shocked when I realize that he is right.

In between kisses, Milo continues to comfort me. “It’s okay, baby,” he keeps saying over and over. “You are okay.”

He leans in closer, his rhythm still reverently slow and gentle. I suck in a breath when his fingers drop between us. When he tells me that I am his, my body lets go before my mind does.

“God,” I dig my nails into his shoulders and feel my whole body clench.

“There, baby,” he murmurs as his hands roam over my bare chest, gently pinching the hardened nipple between his fingers. I feel Milo’s cum on my thighs before I hear him roar.

By the time he pulls out, carries me to the tub, and lowers me into it, I can’t meet his eyes.

I am trying to wrap my mind around what the hell just happened between us.

Last night there was some fight left in me. Today, I went from panic to arousal to completion. It seems too unreal.

Milo simply keeps stroking my hair while I lean back in the tub. “Do you need anything?”

I stare at him in disbelief and simply shake my head.

“Okay, come downstairs after you are done,” he whispers.

With a final kiss on my temple, he leaves and strides out of the bathroom.

I try to retreat inside my own safe place.

-----------

I am showered, changed, and I have finally snapped out of my shock. I make my way downstairs for the second time this morning.

While soaking in that tub, my determination to change this situation has came back with full force.

There is no point in trying to convince our families of our relationship status or asking Milo to tell them the truth. It doesn’t matter what they think.

We are both adults.

I need to take charge and step up my game. After this brunch, I am going to tell our families that there is nothing going on between us. Plain and simple.

Thankfully, the brunch itself is a hit and it's a great distraction from my previous shock.

The food is delicious. Our dads are telling us stories from their childhood. Their banter and teasing bring about nostalgia from my own childhood with the Sinclair siblings.

Milo even eggs on our dads to participate in a drinking game. Not to be outdone by the younger generation, our dads start chugging drinks as we cheer them on.

Tessa does her own cheerleading routine for Uncle Reese. After all of these years, it’s odd to see her so content. Her on and off battle with depression has been an almost two-decade fight. But her recent treatment has done wonders for her. Watching her fills me with hope.

My parents also seem to be in the same happy boat. After a few hours of day drinking, Dad declares that we need music, and we are turning this brunch into a dance party.

He clears out a portion of the dining room, sets up the Bluetooth speaker, and grabs my mother for a dance. Mia and I giggle at his horrible moves as he tries to keep up with her.

Since I can’t exactly dance, Mia dances alongside me from our seats. We even perform a choreographed routine that we had made up in Paris.

Despite Reid’s absence and what just happened this morning, I am surprised at how content I feel to be around my whole family after all these years. It’s a sense of belonging that we have all been deprived of.

With my family around, even this haunted house from my nightmares is camouflaged as a semi-okay dream.

I spend the rest of the afternoon cramming in as much quality family time as possible, surprised at how naturally we all still fit in with each other.

Soon, I wander into the kitchen, looking for a clean glass. I have just opened the cabinet when I hear hysterical screaming coming from the dining room.

“What the fuck!” I turn towards the sound and limp my way back to the dining room.

I have barely entered the room when I find Tessa surrounded by a herd.

My parents are screaming and shrieking from the scene in front of them, while Uncle Reese is calmly taking charge.

I exchange a quick, knowing look with Milo and Mia. They have the same thought as I do.

None of our other drama matters anymore. Not Milo’s lust-crazed sociopathic behavior. Not Raven’s strange panic from earlier today. Not even the devastated, missing Sinclair.

The only thing that matters is this scene in front of us before things progress for the worse.

CHAPTER 3

Eight Days Later

-----------

Milo

“I don’t understand. Where are we?” Raven looks around.

“We are at my condo,” I gesture towards the open living room.

Rave’s recovery process has been slow. The journey to our recovery, even slower. I can admit to that part being my fault.

However, Raven’s recovery was sidetracked when Tessa started spiraling again. Tessa had a full-on side effect from her prescription drugs. It was… bad, to say the least. It’s the most extreme side effect she has ever had.

Almost overnight, Tessa went off her meds and reverted back to her old self who stays withdrawn in her room.

When we finally got in touch with her doctor, he insisted that it was a fluke, and the effects of the medication will dwindle unless we get her to stay on course.

However, Tessa refuses to take her medication.

Personally, I don’t pay too much attention to Tessa’s up and down battle. My perspective on Tessa is different. I see her less as a mother and more like a sick relative. I treat her as another item on my chore list.

Raven and Mia are not quite so jaded. As a result,  there is finally a silver lining to this shit. Raven has put aside our differences to stay focused on our Tessa related efforts.

Today she agreed to tag along with me to a holistic pharmacy. The pharmacy has some alternative options that worked for Tessa the last time she went off her prescribed medication.

On the way back, I scheduled a detour at my condo, which I “forgot” to mention.

Raven spins in the middle of the large living room to take in my apartment. She doesn’t give anything away with her expression.

Maybe I should have made this place more presentable before showing it to her. I can’t tell what she thinks of the place. Does she like it?

I put down the brown bag from the pharmacy and shove my hands in my pockets. I nervously watch her as she walks through the living room and looks over the large terrace.

Having a terrace in New York is a treat. The condo has a large terrace with a beautiful view overlooking the city. Short of the excellent view, the high-end building, and location, my place is nothing fancy.

I travel a lot for work; promoting the app from city to city, meeting with investors and investment bankers alike. I seldom come back to New York.

In fact, this is the longest I have been in New York in years. When I come back, my parents and Mia insist that I stay with them. So, I never decorated this place.

However, I did come here earlier today to set something up.

“Why are we here?” Raven asks quietly. Her body language is changing. I know what she is worried about, but that’s not why I brought her here.

This outing is triggered by an incident that took place days after Tessa’s downward spiral. I have been concerned about Raven ever since.

I am determined to find a way for us to live amicably at that house. I am not capable of leaving Raven alone, so we have to find a middle ground, some sort of compromise.

I think Raven has come to the same realization.

I move to the terrace door and open it, motioning for her to go outside. Raven walks out, and her gaze lands on the table in front of us. There is a small table on the terrace, with a dinner set for two.

“Do you remember that fusion restaurant we went to when you were younger?”

Raven scrunches her face. “Vaguely. We went to lots of restaurants when I was younger.”

“Yes, but you should remember this one in particular,” I raise an eyebrow. “You waited for months for the reservation. You wanted to try all the desserts because a world-renowned pastry chef was making a guest appearance. But the wait time for dessert was ridiculous. Mia, Reid, and I were not in the mood to wait, so we left. You looked like you were ready to kill all of us.”

“I remember,” Raven smiles sadly at the memory. “I was so annoyed at you guys. I can’t believe you couldn’t wait for ten minutes for dessert.”

I start laughing at Raven’s version of the story. “Umm… I think you remember it incorrectly. It was more like a forty-five-minute wait for dessert.”

“Whatever!” She rolls her eyes but finally cracks a warm smile.

“Well! We happen to have a meal made up of desserts prepared by that same pastry chef.”

“What?” Raven blinks.

“The chef from that restaurant. He lives in New York now. I contacted him and asked him if he could prepare some pastries for us. He is not currently working, so he didn’t refuse the offer. I had someone pick up the desserts from his house and drop it off here.”

She looks back and forth between the table and then at me.

“I know you would much rather eat desserts than a real meal,” I try to tease when Raven doesn’t say anything.

“What are you doing?” she finally mumbles.

Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. “Rave, this is just a gesture. I was hoping it would make you happy.”

Raven doesn’t respond. She doesn’t look angry, nor does she look happy. Her face is completely neutral. Raven finally breaks the awkward silence.

“You must understand why this gesture makes me uncomfortable,” she motions towards the table. “You are doing this so I’d go along with the fabrication you told our families about us being together,” Raven  speaks in a shockingly honest and direct voice. “This gesture is an exchange for something you want, but that defeats the purpose. A gesture should be unconditional; no strings attached. This has strings attached. This is a tainted effort.”

“You are half correct. I told our parents my truth. They made their own assumptions about our relationship.”

Ever since the focus has shifted to Tessa, Raven hasn’t bothered to correct or address our relationship, nor has anyone asked us about it. There are currently more pressing matters at the house.

“This is a gesture to make you happy, but I also wanted to give you the opportunity to speak openly. I was hoping you’d feel comfortable if we were away from the family drama.”

“What would you like to talk about?” Raven’s voice remains apprehensive.

I get it. She has no reason to trust me. But if I make my case using logic, I know she will understand. Logic has always resonated with her.

“Look, Rave. We have to live in close quarters for the time being. I don’t want us to be miserable the whole time. And after that incident the other night, it’s pretty clear that we have to find a middle ground. Moving forward, I want things to be different between us.”

“How so?”

“I can make an effort to change to make you comfort—”

“You can’t change,” Raven states it as finality in a matter-of-fact kind of way.

“Of course, I can—”

“You can’t,” she cuts me off again. “You might have changed in superficial terms. Your moods are different. You are less approachable. But fundamentally, you are still the same person.”

I almost smile, but control myself. Raven is smart, and she has been observing me to find a way to either coexist or fight me off.

I am not sure which one she is leaning towards.

“As humans, we don’t change,” she continues. “Not truly. We are nothing but a sum of our nature and nurture. We can both admit that the nurture aspect has failed us miserably, leading to the two fucked up human beings standing here,” Raven motions her hand between us.

Raven sounds patient, like she is trying to explain something simple to a very difficult child.

“As for nature, our neurotransmitters dictate our personalities. If you have a high dopamine level, then you are likely an energetic person. If you have low serotonin levels, then not so much. These inherent, biological aspects make up our foundation. We can’t change the neurotransmitters signaling off to our brains. At best, we can use medication, chemicals, and behavioral therapy to suppress what we truly are. So, you see Milo. You can’t change.”

I once told Raven that the man she ends up with will never win an argument. I could laugh at that irony, but that doesn’t mean I’ll back down without a fight.

“According to your assessment, I can’t change who I truly am, correct?” I tilt my head at Raven, waiting for her confirmation.

Hazel eyes meet mine as they pierce into my non-existent soul. She slowly nods, as if wondering where I am going with this.

“But have you considered that maybe who I truly am is the person you grew up with? Maybe the person I have become over the last few years is the person I became due to extenuating circumstances?” I motion my head towards her to indicate she is my extenuating circumstance. "Maybe my true personality is being momentarily suppressed.”

To be honest, I have no idea if I am still that old sap, but I have been searching for an option for us. One where I don’t have to lose her, nor do I have to break her to keep her.

I will be whoever she needs me to be for that alternate option.

“Or maybe this is who you were all along,” Raven argues. “Maybe your true colors came out due to extenuating circumstances. Why should I risk myself to find out who you are?”

“Because you don’t have any other options right now,” I remind her of the truth of her situation. “Also, because you are the only person who understands me like no one else. So, determine for yourself who I truly am and if I am the right person for you. Somewhere deep down, you know that our connection deserves a chance to at least be explored.”

Raven scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief. “Being perceptive in general and being the right person for you are two very different things. I can be observant, but don’t confuse my demeanor for a profound understanding of you or some sort of amazing connection between us. We haven’t even known each other for years.”

“You just said that people don’t change. Even if we haven’t been around each other, fundamentally we are still the same. We know each other’s habits, preferences and values. Give me a chance to prove that I can be different,” I fix her with a determined look.

Yes, I haven’t exactly been controlling myself since she moved back. But that was before I saw the dreaded after-effects. I know that moving forward things have to be different between us.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” Raven mumbles in a sincerely pain-stricken voice. “If you try to be an imaginary person for me, it will make this unbearable situation worse when you lose your shit again. I don’t need false promises. I just want to understand the problem I am dealing with, so I can come up with a solution that works for myself.”

She is right. I shouldn’t lie to her or to myself, just to put her through hell. She wouldn’t be able to deal with it, and I can’t watch her break. Raven deserves to know what she is in for.

“Rejection,” I sum it up in one word.

“Sorry?” Raven frowns.

“I can’t deal with your rejection.”

“Yes, Milo. I am very aware that you don’t like rejection. That’s not what I meant—”

“No, Rave,” I interrupt. “I am immune to rejection. I have dealt with it all my life. From my family members. From investors at work. Rejection is an opportunity for feedback and growth. It doesn’t bother me. I’d like to specify; I can’t deal with your rejection.”

Raven’s cheeks flush. She is angry, but she is trying to push it down. “That sounds like an excuse. You can’t say that and expect me to move past it.”

“You put me through hell for four years. Wasn’t that enough to move past it?”

“Clearly not, because nothing has changed,” Raven’s voice reflects the anger bubbling inside both of us. “You did the exact same shit the moment I walked back into your life.”

“I snapped, Rave. It’s like I have no control around you—”

“You do have control,” Raven clenches her teeth. “You stopped. We hadn’t seen each other in years. You didn’t come near me—”

“Only because I had hope that you’d come back to me,” I ferociously argue.

“If you have hope, then why the hell did you pull the same shit?”

“I had hope,” I close my eyes to calm the anger pulsing in my veins. “Past tense. That was before I found out how he felt about you. When I found out about him, all hope vanished.”

“That gives you the right to do what you did?” Raven fumes. Her angry face lifts up to meet mine. “Because of that, I should forgive you for your heinous actions?”

My own anger is quickly getting the best of me, and my words are all laced with malice.

“Forgiveness?” I ask her in mock surprise. “I am not begging for your forgiveness, Rave. We are past that now. You have already taken your revenge. You agreed to be in a relationship with my fucking brother even though you knew how I felt about you.”

We both stop talking after that.

Complete silence.

Raven looks taken back, shocked… and scared. The last time this topic came up, it did not end well. I still charge forward to eat up the distance between us.

“You could’ve taken your revenge the way society and law allows you to,” I growl. “You could have thrown me in jail or told our families. I would have accepted either of those and still been a happier man. But you did the one thing that cut me the deepest. So, congrats Rave. You got me back. Are we even now?”

Guilt flashes in Raven’s eyes for a change because she knows that I am right.

I waited four years, hoping Raven would come back to me. I was impatient, but I made myself understand that Raven needed time. I convinced myself because she dangled hope in my face in the form of a possibility between us.

But Raven burnt all of that down. She did the worst thing possible. I put my life on hold while she planned to move on with him.

Do I believe it’s love between those two?

For Reid, yes.

For Raven, it’s codependency.

Their codependency is the bane of my existence, but it’s also a crutch for them.

Reid can twist her arm into a relationship because The risk of losing their friendship for good is a huge threat to Raven. And all of it is a huge threat to my sanity.

“Milo,” she says quietly, “nothing happened with Reid. I already told you that. He wanted more. All I did was tell him that I would consider it.”

“But, you did consider it?” My jaw shuts tight at her renewed admission.

“I did,” Raven admits.

“Can you see how your actions might not inspire trust?” I frothily ask. My anger is now in full swing. “You dangled a carrot in front of my face for years, only to tell me that you are now interested in my brother. I made a colossal mistake. I should have made you swear on Mia that if I stayed away, you’d give us another chance because that seems to be the only way to trust you. I have done many things Raven, but I don’t intentionally lie to you.”

It's true. Raven doesn’t lie if she swears on Mia. She once gave me her word, by swearing on Mia, to finish her school project within the night.

She accidentally fell asleep, and the next day Mia broke out with a fever of a hundred and four.

Raven lost her shit.

Raven is not religious, but she can be somewhat superstitious. Since that little incident, Raven is painfully paranoid about swearing anything on Mia. And if she does, it’s only because it’s the absolute truth.

Swearing on Mia was the threat she used to keep me at bay for all of these years.

Nonetheless, this conversation is not going well. I want to find a solution. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in an attempt to reel in my temper.

“Look, Rave, I am weak when it comes to you, and you know it. Yet, all you do is taunt and egg me on. I feel crazy fucking possessive over you. I realize that you don’t think I have any right to feel this way, yet that’s how I feel. It was bad before you left, now I can’t even tolerate it. Have you ever considered that I didn’t lie to you about my feelings, and in fact, these things are difficult for me to endure?”

Raven looks like she has no idea how to react to my declarations. I didn’t even tell her the worst of it; my recurrent fantasy to tattoo MINE somewhere on her body, preferably her forehead.

She has no idea of the extent of my unhealthy obsession.

“I am not trying to egg you on,” she mutters.

I try to use a gentler tone as well to help salvage what I can of this conversation. “Then why work so hard to reject me? Why increase my misery? And why agree to date my fucking brother?”

Raven looks down at her interlaced hands in front of her.

“Look, my life came to a standstill the day...” Raven’s voice wavers, and she looks away. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. I was not trying to increase your misery, Milo. I just wanted to move forward with my own life. Reid gave me hope for happiness.”

“I can make you happy,” I counter under my breath. “I can give you anything you want to help you get there. I understand if you need more time to move forward. We can start by being friends. I’ll do whatever it takes—”

“I want you to help my parents,” Raven blurts out.

Not exactly what I was expecting to hear.

“Okaaay,” I start unsurely. “I am happy to. What would you like me to do for them?”

“My parents are financially struggling, and they have nowhere to go. I need assurance that you are not going to kick them out of the house or threaten their accommodation in any way, no matter how things go down between us.”

I don’t miss a beat. “Done.”

As usual, leave it to Raven to ask for something for someone else, and not for herself.

“I promise not to threaten their accommodation. It will remain as is.”

I am very aware of their financial challenges. Uncle John gave up his medical license and moved to Paris. Soon after his move, Theressa’s business started suffering.

I invested some of my trust fund money to keep her business going. In reality, it was an investment in Raven’s talent. Raven wanted to work with Theressa, and I was confident that Raven could turn the business around once she completed her degree.

However, Theressa and Uncle John declared bankruptcy before all of that could happen. They spent their life savings and had sunk too far into debt to recover. Once Theressa’s company shut down, Raven came back to New York to pursue her own career.

Dad asked both of her parents to return to America as well and move in with us until they figure it out.

There is no way Theressa could live a non-glamour life at a camp in Africa, and Uncle John cannot practice in America anymore.

I hate that Raven is worried about me kicking them out on the streets. I would never do that, but I am not going to argue if in exchange she agrees to an amicable understanding.

I don’t bother telling her I have already decided to give them a loan that I don’t expect them to pay back.

“Thank you,” Raven nods her acknowledgment.

“Anything I can do for you?” I ask. Raven looks at me quizzically at the suggestion. “I know you want to start your own line. If you need the capital—”

“I don’t want your money,” she says quickly.

Raven has already declined my money multiple times despite how broke she is currently. I wire transferred money into her account so her bills wouldn’t get rejected. Raven was not happy about it.

I give her a comforting smile. “It doesn’t have to be financial assistance, Raven. Moving forward, I just want you to be happy at the house if you are going to be living there.”

“I am only staying at the house temporarily,” Raven corrects me on cue, but takes a moment to think about my offer. “Umm… is it possible to rip out the carpet in my room and replace it with something else?”

“Of course,” I try to keep up a neutral face even though I am shocked by her random request.

Raven is not into home decor, nor is she OCD about carpet versus hardwood floors. But I am not going to pry right now.

“Anything specific that you want to change about your room?”

“Anything other than that carpet,” she utters. “Tiles. Hardwood floors. I don’t care.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s not urgent. If it’s not financially feasible—”

“Raven,” I assure her, “it’s really not a problem.”

“Thank you.”

“I have one more question.”

“Sure,” she sighs.

“Do you hate me?”

-----------

Raven

“Do you hate me?” Milo asks point-blank.

Honest. Direct. Unexpected.

We have barely come to an agreement when Milo throws another atom bomb at me. My whole body reacts to that question.

“Hate?” I contemplate the word as it rolls off my tongue.

Milo is holding his breath as he waits. The Sinclairs never understood that I don’t love the way they do.

I might have used the word hate, but I have never applied it. When I love, I love unconditionally. I realized that at an early age in life.

Although I am not a people pleaser, I am a Sinclair pleaser. I love all of them unconditionally. I have always done everything in my power to make them happy.

That's how things got so out of control with Milo, even though I knew what was happening between us was wrong.  Still, I tried to suppress it.

After Mia told me how Reid felt about me, I couldn’t suppress it anymore, nor could I cross that threshold with Milo again. Milo was the one person Reid couldn’t bear to see me with. It would have gutted him.

However, my decision didn’t stand. Milo started coercing me into sex.

In the beginning, I thought Milo made a terrible mistake. I thought maybe it was a misunderstanding.

Driven by jealousy, I thought he accidentally went too far. I was in shock, refusing to believe it was getting that out of control.

The shock value lies in the fact that Milo can have anyone he wants. It's hard to believe that a man like him needs force to bed a woman.

He is beyond good looking, intelligent, charming. Now, he is even rich and successful. From what I have heard, women still swoon over him. Milo looks like a freaking male model. He can now make grown women cry, not just pesky teenagers.

So, the thought remains, why me?

Why did he fixate on me?

Milo used to sit me down and give me lectures on various topics; one of them was sexual conduct.

When a woman says stop, a man has to stop. Milo taught me that. He emphasized there is no gray area with consent and told me if boys at school ever got handsy, to knee them in the balls.

This is why it was so difficult to believe it when I was watching him morphe. It was like Lex Luther’s transition from good to evil, and I was the guide leading him to explore the darkest side of himself.

That part is the most disheartening to accept.

My new reality settled in when Milo kept at it because I reacted positively. He couldn’t understand that it was filling me with self-hatred for reacting positively to unwanted advances.

One day Milo went too far, and it pushed me over the edge. I couldn't ignore what was happening anymore. I left for Paris the very next day.

Reid was so angry at me for leaving that he stopped talking to me. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have Reid’s friendship to rely on.

After I left for Paris, Milo flew out to bring me back. He begged me, said he couldn't live without me. He claimed that he snapped, but I didn’t want to hear any of it.

Finally, Milo decided to do "right" by me. He asked me to come with him to file a report to turn himself in.

Milo was always a willing participant to restitution. He was adamant that we belong together, and anything different is simply unnatural. His actions never felt fully wrong to him.

However, if I felt differently, then he deserves to rot in jail.

He refused to believe that I’d never do that to him, even if I felt wronged.

I. Don’t. Want. Revenge.

That’s not me.

I couldn’t take revenge on Milo, nor could I forgive him. In his eyes, those were the only two acceptable options.

Forgive him and be with him, or punish him and send him to jail.

I chose neither and created a third option for myself.

I promised Milo that I would try to forgive him if he stayed away. I meant it. I wanted us to eventually be a family again.

However, Milo wanted the promise of reconciliation along with my forgiveness. He wouldn't leave until I agreed, which I grudgingly did.

Hope. Hope was the only thing I could give him to ensure that he would stay away from me.

Yes. It was idiotic to encourage a man who holds on to very little. But I was seventeen. I was petrified of my guardian, who had legal rights over me and could manipulate my mother into forcing me to go back.

I had no one else to turn to, nor could I enforce a restraining order against him.

What else would have kept a man like that at bay?

So, I gave him hope, never thinking that four years down the line his feelings would still be the same.

My years in Paris were… difficult, but I never hated Milo. I hate the actions he chose, but I don’t hate the person currently in front of me who is working on finding a different path so we can coexist.

This, I understand.

It’s logical.

In the last week, we stayed focused on our Tessa related efforts. Things were somewhat calm between us in the beginning.

Of course, Milo’s attention quickly shifted. But after the incident, as he keeps calling it, he hasn’t touched me or forced choices down my throat.

So, I have put my differences aside for the family’s sake. It’s almost as if we have been keeping things “professional” during a bad situation.

“I don’t know if hate is the right word,” I slowly unravel my thoughts. “I’d say that I am angry at you and I feel resentful towards you.”

“Resentful?” Milo asks curiously.

Another significant change I have noticed is Milo's ability to intimidate our family members.

The part that has not changed is that everyone in the family still respects Milo, despite feeling intimidated by him.

They adore him.

Our families were extremely quick to believe Milo's account of our relationship. No one, including my own parents and Reid, even bothered to ask me for my version of the story.

“I am angry at you for what you did to me, and I resent the fact that you still get to have the whole nine yards,” I try not to lace my words with my bitterness and focus on being forthright. “You have a dream job. Perfect condo. Family. Adoration. Friends. I have to watch you thrive while I am still struggling to move past everything that happened.”

I watch Milo from the corner of my eye to assess his mood.

“But I didn’t thrive. I drowned,” Milo sounds astonished by my assessment of his life. “Other than paying for my family’s expenses, I barely see them. I work all the time. I never stay at this condo. Most of the time, it irritates me to even look at it.”

Mia told me the same thing, but I don’t understand why the condo isn’t good enough.

This is my dream home. Perfect view. Perfect location. Giant living room. High ceilings with a beautiful chandelier. Absolutely gorgeous.

When I first walked in, I was speechless.

“Milo,” I keep my voice low and even. “Just because you have a busy life doesn’t decrease my resentment. Your prestige as the hard-working entrepreneur and prodigal son still precedes you. Both of our families look at you like you are their savior.”

“That’s not a good thing,” he argues flatly. “That’s just a reminder of the same truth I had to live with my whole life, the expectation for me to lessen the burden of others.”

His words give me pause.

That’s how I always saw him as well.

Despite his new sociopathic tendencies, Milo is still a man of habits. His habits include being responsible and a caretaker.

He resents this family. It's clear that the years of being tied down to them had an adverse affect on how he views them now.

However, Milo still takes care of them because that's what he has always done.

I know that Milo has a deep loathing for Tessa, one that he will never openly admit. It vibrates from his very essence. He resents Tessa for forcing him into a role that he never wanted.

Still, after everything started going downhill with Tessa, he was the first one to step up to the plate while Uncle Reese checked out.

Per usual, everyone assumed Milo would carry the burden. Unfortunately, it's all true.

Growing up, Milo’s poker face never betrayed his emotions. The only thing he couldn’t control was the panic attacks.

Having observed him recently, I realized that he doesn’t get panic attacks anymore, and his poker face is even better than before.

Milo never complains about the burden he carries, so it’s impossible to determine how his responsibilities affect him.

Did taking care of us have such a demonic aftereffect on him?

I stare at him in an attempt to decipher, but I can’t get a read on him at all. “Regardless, the whole family listens to you. You banned them from seeing me, and they complied without question. As a result, I lost a whole year with Mia.”

Over the years, I remained close to all the other Sinclairs. Mia used to spend all of her vacations with me. Uncle Reese and Tessa joined in at times.

The entire family, sans Milo, even came to Paris to celebrate Reid and my twenty-first birthday last year.

However, one year Milo banned the family from seeing me. Everyone chalked it up to us having a fallout. Milo’s dictate came off as almost a call for allegiance.

Our families are aware that Milo is not a petty person, but even Uncle Reese didn’t question the ludicrous ban on Raven. Uncle Reese would have come off as ungrateful if he had argued.

Since his business took off, Milo took over the larger bills for Uncle Reese so he could move back home from the Cayman Islands.

Uncle Reese now only works part-time at a private clinic to dedicate more time to his ignored daughter and his depressed wife.

It sliced my heart open, but I refused to put the family in an awkward position by asking them to go against Milo’s wishes. I understood their length of gratitude towards Milo.

Mia was the only Sinclair who fought to see me and overthrew Milo’s ban on Raven. Her stubborn sassy ass went toe to toe with Milo for a whole year till he finally conceded.

Milo’s business exploded over the last few years. Due to his schedule, Mia was often left alone at home during her school vacations.

Despite Uncle Reese’s presence, Milo saw the negative toll it took on Mia to be exposed to an on and off depressed Tessa around the clock. I was the only other adult he trusted with Mia, so he finally gave in.

“I didn’t ban them from seeing you.” Milo sounds infuriatingly unapologetic. “I gave you the choice to come to New York to visit them.”

“It wasn’t a choice,” I say evenly. “It was blackmail. You took away the only family I have ever known. But you still get to keep up this godlike façade in front of them. I can’t help but keep hoping that someone shreds this cool exterior of yours so you can be just as affected like the rest of us mortals,” I say under my breath, failing to keep the bitterness at bay. “I want you to also get kicked around in life the same way I did.”

“The last four years have been nothing but me getting kicked around in life,” Milo looks livid at my recount of his life. His frustrated voice vibrates with tension. “It was torture. It’s like everything good inside of me was eradicated, till nothing even remotely good existed anymore.”

“Stop exaggerating!”

“I’m not,” he says in a clipped voice. “I feel empty; soulless. It’s exhausting to slap on a smile and walk a void, empty body around,” he growls in a low voice. “It’s like living without hope. Food has no taste. Life has no meaning. It’s just hollow and nothingness.”

I tense at his brutal honesty and wait for him to continue.

Milo takes a few harsh breaths as if trying to calm himself down.

“I work all the time to support my family. But I also do it so I won’t have a moment to think about you,” he confesses in a quiet voice. “I avoid New York because this city feels empty without you. I don’t see my family because they remind me of you. I don’t stay at my condo because I bought it for you.”

“You did what?” I ask before the last word even leaves his lips.

His eyes finally soften around the edges.

“I bought the condo because you used to tell me that Soho is the heart of New York, and the only good view of it is the one from above,” he says hoarsely. “You told me that your dream home would have high ceilings with chandeliers hanging down. I had hoped that someday this condo could be ours. That hope started killing me as the years went by, and you wouldn’t change your mind. I couldn’t look at it anymore.”

I blink.

Milo’s words are equivalent to a punch in the gut.

His pained expression, even worse.

This is so unfair.

He did me wrong. By textbook definition, by societal definition, and by the standards of the law, Milo is the villain. He belongs behind bars. He did unforgivable things. He can’t possibly be pinning me as the villain. I look away from him to deflect the contradictory image.

“You can’t make me feel guilty for your poor decisions. You pushed me too far. It’s not my fault if you didn’t like the consequences.”

“You always needed a push before you could make a decision.”

“Pushing me has never got you what you wanted out of me,” I respond coolly. “Maybe it’s time for you to change your methods.”

Milo quietly absorbs my words. I see the wheels turning in his head as he reflects on the truth behind them. Minutes go by, though it feels like hours.

He finally says, “You are right.”

-----------

Milo

She is right. Pushing her and forcing her has only driven her away from me. “You are right.”

Raven looks at me and waits for me to add more to my statement, but there is nothing else to it. She is right. That’s it, pure and simple.

“So...” I prod her gently. “How do we move forward? We do still have to live together.”

I want us to progress this discussion. This is the most I have ever been able to dig out of her.

Raven is not an emotional person. But right now, she is actually stating her needs and voicing her thoughts. I need to hear them before she shuts down.

Raven mimics my neutral tone.

“I know that we have to live together, and I do want to find a middle ground. I can acknowledge how much you are doing for the whole family. Others might take that for granted, but I appreciate it. I just don’t know how to get past what happened, nor do I trust that it won’t happen again,” she says pointedly. “I can’t control how I feel. A feeling is not a choice. But my actions are my choices.”

I hold my breath as I wait for Raven to continue.

“I-I need control over my life and over my body. I need to feel safe, I need you to respect me, and I need to be able to trust you. If you can give me those things, I’ll meet you halfway. I’ll try harder not to reject you, and we can have a cordial friendship. I want peace, but I can’t agree to any more than that.”

I nod. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. I can convince her of more if she is not running away from me.

We will get there eventually.

Raven stares ahead, then moves her gaze from the table back to me. Without saying another word, she walks towards the table.

As soon as the shock wears off from her sudden movement, I follow to pull out her chair and watch in shock as Raven settles in.

Just like that.

No arguments.

She said she wants peace, and she is making a peace offering.

Walking around the table, I sit down across from her. She starts opening the boxes of desserts to sort through them as if we did not just discuss life-altering plans.

CHAPTER 4

-----------

Raven

It’s only a little past dawn. I kept having nightmares that kept me up.

Since I couldn’t sleep, I am trying to be productive by making breakfast for the family. It’s a difficult feat considering my limited expertise in the kitchen.

Ever since Tessa receded, Mia and Uncle Reese have been a little withdrawn, staying more or less out of sight. The members outside of the family feel uncomfortable with the on-goings of the private family matters and have been keeping to themselves as well.

I am hoping that this breakfast will allow everyone to come back together.

Scrounging through the kitchen, I find bread, fruits, yogurt, and cereal. I am hoping it’s enough to feed ten people. As I am working on setting up the table, I find Alexa charging towards me with Milo’s other business partners in tow.

“Hi, Ms. Parisian fancy pants!”

“Good Morning,” I give Alexa a genuine smile. “How are you?”

“Jaci has finally finished unpacking,” she smiles back.

Milo’s business partners, Brandon, Jaci, and Alexa, recently moved into the split-level.

With everything going on, their office is shut down. Without their in-house staff, they have to be all hands on deck and work around the clock.

It’s difficult to do so without being physically together. Milo already uses the split-level as his home office. It’s also set up as its own private apartment.

Those three practically lived in the split-level back in the day. I used to be close to all of them, and they are close to the whole family. All in all, it made sense for them to move in.

“Hey, girl, hey,” Jaci sings.

“Rave,” Brandon is the next to come up. “Are you feeling any better today?”

“I am healing,” I give all of them a reassuring smile.

Alexa nods. “You must still be so freaked out from the fall."

"Rave, you have to be more careful girl," Jaci chimes in. "You could have died.”

I shake my head at them. “You guys are being so dramatic. I am perfectly fine.”

We are still in mid-conversation when I see Milo coming towards us. He looks freshly showered, in blue jeans and a white shirt today. It's another one of his casual but expensive ensembles.

I watch Alexa checking Milo out from the corner of her eye. I don’t blame the girl. That seems to be a normal reaction where Milo is concerned.

His physical attributes have always been hard to deny. At twenty-five, he looks more of a walking sex god than he did at twenty-one. People still turn to stare at him whenever he walks into a room. His tall, sculpted body has a commanding presence, especially with girls.

“Good morning,” Alexa is the first to greet Milo.

He gives her a curt nod.

“Morning, Rave,” Milo gives me a peck on the cheek, like the ones we used to share back in the day. His body language is also friendly, which is promising.

Since our heavy conversation at Milo’s condo yesterday, things have been… civil. We caught up on each other’s lives.

Milo has not acted on his impulses or his out of control libido. He has been diligent about not touching me. Those efforts have sparked tranquility between us.

“Morning,” I respond back as Milo turns to acknowledge his business partners.

“So, Rave,” Jaci drawls, turning the attention back to me. “What’s on your agenda now that you are back in New York?”

“Nothing much. I have been doing an internship for a family friend, Karen.”

“Karen?” Brandon frowns. “I didn't know that. Isn’t Karen like a bloodhound? I heard she doesn’t pay interns.”

Milo gives me a pointed look at that comment. I sigh. It’s a moot point.

“I know,” I surrender with one hand up. “But I just wanted the experience.”

“Why?” Alexa tilts her face. “You are fucking brilliant. You were what, sixteen or seventeen when your first dress was featured in a Paris fashion runway?”

“I was seventeen,” I admit. “But that only happened because the lead designer birthed me,” I point at my mother, whose silhouette is barely visible from where we are standing. It looks like she is browsing through the magazine collection.

“That’s not why,” Milo chimes in. “Theressa would not have featured a dress on her first show unless she knew it was going to hit it out of the park. It was simply that good,” he shrugs.

Brandon takes me in a one handed-hug.

“God, Rave, you haven’t changed. You are brilliant, dude. Stop working for that vampire Karen before she sucks out your soul. Start your own line.”

“I might do that one day,” I smile politely at Brandon but silently beg him to let go.

I don’t have to look up to feel Milo’s raging eyes on us. His lighthearted mood is shifting.

He already admitted to being possessive like a psycho, or in his case, possessive like a socio, if that’s even a word.

We need peace in this house, and I have no interest in encouraging chaos with everything else that's going on right now.

As if on cue, Milo speaks, “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll help you bring things to the table.”

With a hand on my lower back, he nudges me to the side, so Brandon’s arm falls off my shoulders. He is so smooth during the whole transaction that no one notices the quick movement.

“You know, Brandon is right.” Alexa follows us to the kitchen. “You should start your own business. You can sell custom clothing. I have friends who shell out hundreds of dollars for custom-made outfits.”

“You should totally look into this, Rave.” I turn to find Brandon also walking into the kitchen with us. “Plus, this one,” he points his thumb at Alexa, “has bougie friends with a lot of money to spare. I am sure she can give you some intros.”

“I’ll do more than that,” Alexa huffs. “I’ll front you the money if you ever want to start your own business. I know how talented you are, Raven. Do you remember the dress you made for me to wear at my Dad’s fiftieth birthday? I ended up selling it for two hundred dollars.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say.” I am truly baffled. First by her sudden offer and also because of the subsequent information.

I was only sixteen when Alexa begged me to make her a custom-made dress for her father’s party. It wasn’t even that fancy of a dress.

“Girl,” she gives me an exasperated expression. “You have no idea how good you are. You can probably make ten to twelve dresses a month and pull six thousand dollars. Hell, I can link you up with my girls who like custom clothes. Actually, you should start a Shopify site.”

“Whoa! Hold up sparky,” I put up a hand. “You are going a million miles an hour. Where is all of this coming from?”

“Sorry,” Alexa laughs. “It’s the entrepreneurs in us. We can’t help ourselves. We hate watching talent be stifled by working for someone else.”

“Alexa,” I laugh, “talented people work for you. Are your talented staff being stifled?”

“Yes,” all three of them reply in unison.

“You guys are ridiculous.” I shake my head.

I laugh alongside them as they tell me more stories from their work. All four of them work a lot, and their business has grown exponentially.

Milo and his business partners created a finance app. The app rounds up your change if you link it to your charge card, allowing you to have an automatic savings account. They even work with investment bankers now, so the change can be invested in stocks.

While the rest of them stay rooted in New York, Milo travels to various cities to promote the app.

Despite the easy exchange between us, I can’t help but notice Brandon’s continuous flirtatious ways.

Ever since Brandon moved in, he has been overly friendly. He keeps throwing an arm around my shoulders, along with the occasional finger pokes.

When I knew him last, he never showed the slightest bit of interest in me. I don’t think that has changed.

Normally, I wouldn’t care to reflect on Brandon's intentions, but his actions are causing friction. Milo’s glare is steadfast on Brandon.

Milo twice removes Brandon’s hand from my arm. He does it casually, without missing a beat.

Brandon keeps pretending not to notice these jabs and continues on the same course.

Brandon is a tall, good looking man who is a charmer with the ladies. I doubt he is as oblivious as he is letting on. It seems apparent that he is trying to rile Milo up.

Whatever his reasons might be to do so, it doesn’t act as an obstruction in getting reacquainted with old friends. Ever since they have moved in, my bond with them has been rekindled.

When I finally notice the remaining Sinclair clan congregating downstairs, I grab the fruit tray and make my way back to the dining room.

I have already done the plate setting, but I realize how many things I have missed as Milo wordlessly brings random items from the kitchen to complete the set-up, such as water jugs, juice, and butter.

Teamwork, I hear someone giggle from behind. It’s probably my mother.

Everyone has been sidetracked ever since Tessa’s situation. The controversial topic of Milo and I have been swept under the rug.

While my father still has his concerns, I can tell that my mother is beyond thrilled. She loves Milo.

I take the seat next to Mia, who is absentmindedly poking at her yogurt with a spoon.

“Good morning,” I kiss her on the cheek. “How are you today, baby girl?”

Mia just gives me a tight smile and mumbles something unintelligible. She has been feeling down for the last few days.

I keep my eyes on Mia, but from the corner of my eye, I watch Milo walking towards the empty chair on the other side of me right as Brandon plops down on the chair, halting Milo in his tracks.

“Hi, Rave!” I don’t miss the delight in Brandon’s voice or the shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Hi, Mia,” he tilts his head towards Mia. “Did you finish your college applications?”

“Not yet,” Mia sighs.

“Do you need help?”

Our chitchat is cut short by a chair that’s dropped in the empty space between Brandon and I.

Milo plops down on it and casually drags the placemat that’s holding Brandon’s place setting, till the plate and glassware are in front of him.

You can almost smell the male testosterone in the air.

Luckily, our parents don’t notice the silent drama, and despite the random odd vibe, the boys let go of their ego battle once our parents settle into their seats.

However, two people notice the odd exchange. I watch Alexa look between Milo and I. Mia simply looks frozen and stares blankly at Milo.

-----------

“We are going for a walk.”

I look up from my design book to find Milo at my doorway.

When I don’t immediately answer, Milo follows it up with, “Let’s go.”

After breakfast today, I found a box of my favorite chocolates on my side table, along with a note asking about my plans for the day.

In typical Milo fashion, he didn’t wait for my answer. Instead, he interrupted me without so much as a hello and then barked an order at me.

Did I always let him walk all over me like this?

Goddamnit. I did.

I used to follow him around like his lost puppy, doing his bidding. Later, I was too scared to ever voice an opinion. But now things can be different.

“Hello, Raven. How are you? Would you like to go for a walk?” I reword his previous comment to show him how he should have phrased it.

Milo grins at my attempt. “Hello, Raven,” he says with a crooked, smile.

“Oh, hello, Milo. I didn’t see you there,” I play along.

“How are you this fine afternoon?” He mimics my tone.

“I am excellent. Thank you for asking. How are you?”

“I am fine too. Pray tell, would you be ever so kind as to escort me on a walk around this beautiful city?” Milo is wearing a cocky smirk, very much enjoying his own sarcastic spin.

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy your company. And now that you have had time to think about our conversation, I am hoping we can work on that camaraderie thing we had discussed.”

“The last time I agreed to go somewhere with you, you lied about our destination. You took me to your condo under the pretense of going to the pharmacy,” I point out his deception.

“I didn’t lie. I added a detour to our outing. But I promise there will be no detours this time. We are going for a walk, that’s it.” Milo casually gives me a scout’s honor sign, but his muscles are tense. He is masking his nerves and holding his breath while waiting for a response.

I sigh and stand up. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

-----------

We walk silently till we come to a standstill at the entrance of a park. The park is eerily quiet and devoid of people.

“Do you think your handicapped leg can handle a short hike?” Milo teases.

“I think so,” I look down at my leg. I have been limping around on my leg for days. The healing process has been frustratingly slow. My dad told me to slowly increase my stamina, but only after I have felt rested enough. “I should be fine.”

“After you, then. I’ll catch you if you fall.”

We walk along a steep path between large trees and shrubs, till we come to an overlook point. It’s not very high up but it has the perfect view of the city.

“Wow,” I fail to keep the mesmerization out of my voice.

This view is a grand reminder of beautiful New York. It’s breathtaking. I turn to find Milo watching me instead of the view.

“This is beautiful,” I offer as we both sit on a nearby bench.

“I stumbled upon it once by accident. I thought you might like it.”

I nod for Milo even though I am still staring ahead, transfixed by the sight. It seems unreal, like a dream.

I feel like my lack of sleep is fucking with me. I dig my nails into my palm and watch for the nail marks to try to wake myself up. I look up to find Milo watching me.

“What happened to you that other night? You completely spaced out,” Milo says abruptly, his eyes are still on the angry red marks on my palm.

Ah, the night of the incident as Milo fondly refers to it. I have an inkling that I freaked him out that night.

I didn’t mean to, but I am not going to complain if that’s the reason why there is finally peace between us.

“Pass.” I don’t see the point in rehashing a horrifying moment.

“This is not a pass or play game.”

I sigh. “Then why don’t you start with an easier question and work your way up?”

“Fine. Why didn’t you think I would find out that you moved back to New York?”

I turn to look at Milo. He had that one stored and ready to go.

“Because I was discreet.” I shrug. “Other than people at work, only Mia and Reid knew that I moved back. I asked them not to say anything. I stayed away from social media. Plus, Mia told me you barely come back to New York, and you are too busy to answer calls. You haven’t spoken to the family in months. I assumed you wouldn’t find out about my move for a while.”

“You are a smart girl,” Milo grins, almost as if he is proud of my calculative moves.

“How did you find out that I moved back?” I ask a question of my own.

“From family members.”

“And how did you find out about how Reid felt about me?”

“From family members,” Milo states again.

I roll my eyes at the predictability. “The cycle continues.”

“Reid was acting weird. I kind of pried it out of Mia to find out why.”

“So,” I look at Milo nervously, hoping for an honest answer, “you didn’t speak to Reid the day you and I saw each other for the first time? Did you know what time our parents were coming home that day when they caught us together?”

I have had my suspicions for days that Milo had something to do with us getting caught naked in front of our entire family. I even asked my parents about it.

Mom said that Milo didn’t provide any specific instructions to go to his room that day. He simply informed them that he wanted to have a family meeting once everyone officially moved in.

From her perspective, it was an anonymous group decision to go seek out Milo in his room.

I want to believe her, but something is off. The coincidence is far fetched, allowing Milo to get exactly what he wanted after he dragged me to his room.

Milo’s actions right before we got caught were despicable. He wants to believe that my physical reaction is consent. Fine! We have had sex plenty of times. I will pretend it was one of those times when we had a consensual relationship, and blank it from my mind. Call it charity.

The look on my religious father’s face, who believed that I was still a virgin, left me feeling humiliated. But okay, I can deal with that too. All fathers have to find out someday that their little girl is all grown up.

The physical pain and limited mobility after falling down the stairs have been more than challenging over the last couple of weeks. I can get over that too. After all, it was my decision to run.

However, the only thing I cannot get past is what that moment did to Reid.

If Milo knew how Reid felt about me and was behind it in any way, honestly, I don’t know if I can maintain this new found civil relationship of ours, despite Tessa’s condition.

“My turn,” he declares instead of answering my question. It’s the second time he has dodged this question.

“Your turn?”

“I assumed we were taking turns asking questions.”

“Okay, what would you like to know? Any topic except how I spaced out the other night,” I use my fingers to make air quotes around the words spaced out.

Milo doesn’t say anything, which means that’s the only topic he wants to discuss.

We sit around in silence for a little while longer. When he speaks again, I almost jump from the sound of his sudden voice.

“I have this brilliant coder at work. No one in the office wants to sit next to him because he doesn’t wear deodorant. I didn’t want to fire him for poor hygiene, so I promoted him to find an excuse to give him a private office, away from others. Now I am starting to think he is a genius.”

Growing up, we used to tease Milo about how he acts like an old man. In retaliation, Milo would tell “dad jokes” to embarrass us in public.

One time we went to a diner. At the end of the meal, our waitress came up to us.

“You wanna box for the leftovers?” our waitress asked Milo.

“No, but I’ll wrestle you for them,” was Milo’s response.

Soon the jokes morphed into short stories. Milo would tell us ridiculous “dad jokes” anytime we needed cheering up, or if we were mad at him, or just because.

It never worked with Reid, but Mia and I ate it up. We could never stay mad at Milo after one of his “dad jokes” even if sometimes we were laughing at him rather than with him. This story is an example of the first.

My lips curve up. Noticing my smile, Milo tries another one.

“There is a woman at work who uses her time of the month to get time off. She’d go into such graphic details about her cramps that her male supervisor would get uncomfortable and just give in. I have had enough experience with you and Mia. I have no shame in walking to a grocery store to buy tampons or using words like heavy flow. So, I asked the supervisor to direct her to me the next time she tries to pull that stunt.”

I can’t help but ask, “What happened?”

“I gave her the time off.”

I let out a hysterical laugh this time. Milo doesn’t miss a beat and tells me another one. And then another one.

When dusk finally settles, Milo stands up and grabs my hand to pull me to his side. I fall in step next to him, so we can head home.

Days of suffocatingly tense mood is slowly shifting into something familiar and lighthearted. I let myself bask in the affection as he tells me more “dad jokes” while we walk home.

CHAPTER 5

----------

Raven

Breakfast has officially become the only meal when we come together in the Sinclair home, and most likely, it’s because it’s the only meal I am able to prepare with my limited cooking skills.

Other than Milo and Tessa, no one in this household knows how to cook. Since they are both preoccupied, it’s been a lot of take-outs and eating separately.

I have been preparing daily breakfasts so we can all enjoy at least one meal together.

Except today it’s called brunch instead of breakfast, even though I am still sticking to what I can easily serve; toast, fruits, yogurt, cereal.

The difference?

It’s called brunch because it’s on a weekend and we are serving alcohol.

Hallelujah.

I have lined up two jugs of orange juice and bottles of cheap champagne that I found in the fully stocked bar.

I am cutting up fresh fruits when Brandon strolls in and leans against the counter, towering over me with his tall body.

I have never seen Brandon this up so close. Suddenly, I am jealous of his hair. His rugged good looks are complemented by a headful of pretty black locks. Yes, this man has pretty hair.

“Hey!” he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Morning,” I smile at him warmly and take in his floppy sweaty hair. “You go for a run?”

“Yeah. I usually go for runs in the morning.”

“Good for you. I wish to have your motivation someday.”

“You do. You are just motivated about other things, like your designs. But I hope Alexa didn’t overwhelm you the other day about it. We are just passionate entrepreneurs.”

“Oh,” I wave it off. “Not at all. It was sweet, but I don’t think I’m in the headspace to start my own line right now. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Brandon grabs a jug of orange juice and pulls out two glasses. He easily uncorks one of the champagne bottles, barely even making a pop. He hands me a mimosa, and we raise the glasses in cheers.

“That’s how we felt. When five… sorry four,” he says pointedly, “of us started, we didn’t know where to begin. We were a bunch of college kids who made an app for a class project.”

“Pray tell, what’s the sudden interest in getting me to start my own business?”

“All of us do micro-investments and prefer niche start-ups. We like investing in products that interest us, and Alexa likes fashion.” He shrugs.

A random thought crosses my mind. “Does Milo ever invest in small businesses?” I ask without meeting his eyes.

I know that Milo invested in my mom’s business. Mom told me that Milo called it an investment in my talent because he thought I could turn the company around.

Brandon shakes his head. “Milo is notoriously stingy with his portfolio. Out of the four of us he has made the least number of investments, and only when he feels it’s too good to pass up.”

I don’t know why, but a knot in my stomach unties on its own.

“That’s good to know,” I mutter. “It’s really cool that you guys invest in so many start-ups.”

“It is. And Alexa asked me to butter you up so she can invest in your start-up. She refuses to miss the opportunity to invest while you are still suffering from low self-esteem and have no idea how talented you are. This way, she can really low ball you and take a larger stake than she otherwise could.”

I start laughing. Brandon is apparently adamant about making a business deal before breakfast is over.

“What stake? I haven’t even done anything.”

“You will. Alexa told me that she texted your Instagram handle to a few friends. You already have interested customers. If you hire beautiful junior designers and models, maybe I’ll invest too. I’ll do it for a smaller stake in exchange for coming to your work and gawking.”

“Oh my God,” I playfully punch his shoulder. “You are absolutely insane. Maybe I’ll also hire hot male models, so Alexa also gives up her shares in the business.”

“I don’t think Alexa will be quite so generous. She only has eyes for Milo.”

My eyes flip up to meet Brandon’s in shock. “Still?”

“The heart wants what it wants,” he answers nonchalantly.

“Wow,” I can’t help but marvel. “Whatever happened between them? I mean, it’s common knowledge that they used to sleep together, but I never heard the full story.”

“I guess Alexa wanted more, and Milo just wanted to be friends.”

“I feel like that’s too simplistic an explanation for such complicated feelings.”

Brandon sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Alexa said they were friends with benefits for a while, but Milo lost interest in sex. She couldn’t entice him into it, and the more Milo moved on, the more she pined after him.”

Milo stopped being interested in sex!? “If she has been stuck on him for so long, there has to be a little bit more to it than that,” I gently press.

Brandon’s megawatt smile graces the room. He playfully punches my arm. “I guess the same could be said about him. He has been stuck on you for years. Is there more to that story?”

I whip my head towards Brandon, unable to hide my shock.

“Don’t look so surprised that I notice things,” he laughs cheekily.

When I don’t respond, Brandon’s voice loses some of its previous amusement.

“I am not judging. The whole thing about your relation to one another was so passé to me. It shouldn’t have even been an obstacle. I know it’s not my place, but if that’s still holding you back...it shouldn’t. He has been pining over you for years. Actually, pining is not the right word. Devastated. Wrecked. Brutalized.”

“Brutalized?” I emphasize the word. “That’s quite a dramatic choice of word.”

“I don’t think my choice of words are dramatic enough,” he says tightly. “He kicked Asher out of our company just for kissing you. Asher worked his butt off for this app. None of us wanted him gone, but Milo is the majority owner. He twisted our arms into it without even giving us a reason. The girls never found out why, but I saw Milo at that party. I knew how it was going to end for Asher. He threatened to kick all of us out too if we didn’t back him up.”

I lower my eyes, remembering the night of Milo’s twenty-first birthday party and how he beat up Asher.

“I am sorry,” I offer. “I know Ash is a good friend of yours.”

“Asher landed on his feet,” Brandon shrugs. “The point of the story is that I have only ever seen Milo lose his shit over you. He didn’t disclose what happened between you two. I’m guessing it was bad considering how he changed. He used to be a happy go lucky guy. Now he broods so much; he might as well be a fucking serial killer.”

I crack a smile at Brandon’s use of that word. Mia also commented on Milo’s detached nature over the years.

“Losing your shit is not an indication of a healthy relationship,” I point out.

“Sure, but it is fun for me to watch,” he changes his tone back to his light-hearted self. “Did you see how he dragged the plates and cups from in front of me at breakfast the other day?”

My mouth drops open. “You ass. I knew you were flirting with me on purpose. You were totally trying to rile Milo up.”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Brandon laughs deep from his chest. “Whenever I put my hands around your shoulders, all of the veins on Milo’s forehead pop. He has never been a reactive person, even before all of his fucking brooding started. This is fun.”

I am still shaking my head at Brandon’s ridiculous self when Mia joins us in the kitchen.

“Hello, Mia,” Brandon greets her with a big smile.

“Hey,” she gives him a tight smile before hugging me. She is still not her usual bubbly self.

“How are you?” Brandon asks her more kindly, without any of his usual playfulness.

Mia gives him a small nod to indicate that she is fine. I hate watching her in pain.

Mia will forever be my little princess, even though she is almost a fully functional woman now. She is looking at colleges and has a boyfriend. It’s weird to think of her as a grown-up, but now that she is, we have developed a closer bond than ever before.

I am nursing the mimosa that’s sitting on the kitchen counter. After taking one more sip, I pass the glass to Mia. She looks like she needs it, and I sometimes let her drink under my supervision, just like Milo used to let us.

Speaking of, we are soon joined by Milo’s remaining business partners and Milo himself.

While we all exchange pleasantries, Milo’s gaze lands on Mia and the mimosa she is holding. “Who gave you that?”

Mia doesn’t rat me out, but her eyes flicker to me for a second too long, before she catches herself. Milo turns to give me a questioning look.

“She told me that she was twenty-one,” I shrug, trying to keep things light.

Everyone falls in a fit of laughter, and even Milo cracks a smile.

“Is this what you let my sister do when I send her to Paris?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I usually offer her heroin because alcohol has empty calories.”

We are graced with another round of laughter, along with an exasperated eye-roll from Milo.

“I’m glad you consider her dietary needs,” Milo retorts dryly.

Mia grins, indicating that we are both on the same wavelength. It’s a game we used to play to tease Milo. She loves this game, and I know it will distract her from all the drama.

“Mia prefers sticking to cocaine, which is even better for suppressing appetite. Plus, she doesn’t like needle marks. Kids nowadays,” I huff at Mia with a dramatic eye roll.

“Needle marks just aren’t sexy for all the Tinder hookups and one night stands that Raven lets me have,” Mia pipes in.

“Ugh!” Milo runs a hand over his face, and the rest of us laugh again.

“But don’t worry. Raven took me to a Parisian brothel so I can be properly trained on the art of seduction. They said that I am talented enough to be a courtesan,” Mia flips her hair.

I sigh dramatically. “Alas, she didn’t make the cut. She failed the drug test because you know… the cocaine.”

“Are you two done?” Milo asks us in an unamused tone.

“But you will be proud to know that she has a callback for next year,” I nod firmly.

“You are both grounded. Go to your rooms.”

The laughter continues, as we further tease Milo. Once we get closer to brunch time, everyone disperses from the room.

The boys help carry things to the table. Mia and Jaci help set up. Alexa is the only one still lingering around the kitchen with me.

“So, did Brandon talk to you yet?”

After Brandon’s input, I am not sure how to take Alexa’s interest in starting a business with me. Especially since the word about Milo and I getting caught together has now spread.

“He did,” I nod. “And you are positive about wanting to do this?” I inquire pointedly.

“Of course, I do. Didn’t Brandon give you the spiel about how I am a ruthless businesswoman, and I plan to negotiate a larger stake, leaving you with only scraps of the share?”

I burst out laughing. Alexa and Brandon are both infectious sometimes. “Well, at least you are honest about ripping me off.”

Alexa leans in to bump my shoulder gently. “Call me the honest business mafia.”

Honestly, I would love to work with Alexa. She is genuine and has always been a friend to me. I trust her.

Plus, I received a wake-up call after observing how quickly Tessa dissipated from the highs of life to the bottom of the barrel.

After watching the subsequent effect she is having on this family, I am determined to have more than that out of my own life.

So, I turn to Alexa and take a leap of faith. “You know what, Alexa, this sounds like a brilliant idea.”

-----------

Ever since my conversation with Alexa, I am determined to change the remaining days I have left in this house.

I am not the only woman in the world with a past, and I can’t let myself be crippled by it.

No pun intended despite my semi-crippled leg.

My recent excesses in nightmares might be troubling, but it will not be a deterrent towards my new goals because I have decided to change my life.

Just like that.

I spent the last few days being productive. I have even written down what I plan to accomplish and my course of action.

1)     I have been calling and texting Reid non-stop. I was devastated the last time we were separated, but I can’t afford the same luxury. Tessa needs me. My parents are broke. Mia needs me. This is not the time to lose my shit. I can’t let them down by letting him into my every thought. I have to move forward.

2)     I am taking Alexa up on her offer for a partnership. Alexa’s capital will be enough to start making and selling custom-made clothing. In exchange, she will get a percentage of the royalty for each dress I sell. She has connections to old money, so I will basically be making custom clothing for a plethora of her rich friends.

3)     I have to compartmentalize away everything that has happened with Milo thus far to focus on a civil friendship.

“Hey, Rave. What are you working on?”

My eyes flip up to meet a pair of emerald orbs. Milo walks into the room and struts over to my bed. I am sitting cross-legged on the bed, drawing on my sketchbook.

“Hey. Nothing serious. Just a piece I have been drawing.”

Milo nonchalantly plops down on the bed and grabs one of my pillows to hug it. Everyone comments on how the years of traveling have made Milo detached. But lately, I have noticed his mellow and cheerful attitude, which is extremely refreshing on him.

“Actually,” I turn to him, “I meant to ask you. Can I use the study to make the dresses I sell? I noticed that my old mannequin, sewing machines, and supplies are still stored there.”

“Rave,” Milo tilts his head in surprise, “this is your home. You don’t have to ask me.”

He is right. Why did I ever forget that? This is my home. It's the only home I have ever known.

Milo peeks into my drawing book to point at my sketch. “That’s really cool. What is it?”

I look down at the dress I am drawing. “I don’t wanna bore you.”

“I am not bored. I asked because I find your work interesting. I’d like to invest in it someday if you’d accept my money.”

This has been an argument for days. Milo wants me to accept his money, even though I have already accepted an offer from Alexa. But I don’t want to argue. I am exhausted from yet another sleepless night.

“I have always wanted to make a reversible dress. I just don’t know how to go about it. Each side of the dress has to be comfortable enough to feel good on the skin, but it also has to be glamorous enough to wear on the outside.”

Milo chuckles. “So, sort of like you?”

“What do you mean?” I engage in the discussion.

“What do you mean by what do I mean? You are glamorous and comfortable. You wear red bottom heels and Theressa Beckett Specials. Then you come home and strip down to three-dollar shorts and two-dollar tank tops,” Milo jests as he pulls at the strap of my tank top.

“My tank top cost five dollars, thank you very much,” I deadpan.

Milo laughs again, a deep but light-hearted laugh this time. My own lips curve up at his laugh.

I haven’t heard him laugh that genuinely in years. It’s almost nostalgic, flooding my mind with memories of my childhood.

Milo actively deprives the world of his laughter because he has too much sand in his vagina. With him, it’s usually so much brooding and impatience.

But not today. Today he is laughing and he looks so damn sexy while doing so.

Interesting turn of thoughts...

Where did that come from? I haven't had a thought like that in years.

Am I experiencing Stockholm syndrome, or is Milo really that sexy?

I wish there was a scale to measure this.

Ma’am, here is your captivity vs. attraction report. It indicates that your assailant is good looking. I repeat, your assailant is very attractive, and you are not experiencing said syndrome.

I laugh in my own head, and Milo gives me a look. He hates it when I get lost in my head.

Instead of asking me what I am thinking, he tries to pull me out of it like he always does.

“Okay, big spender. How are you going to afford  making that dress when you are spending all of five dollars on a tank top?”

“I plan to rob you while you sleep and then make a run for it.” I keep my eyes trained on my sketchbook, but I can’t help the smirk that breaks out on my face.

“You mean you are going to make a limp for it with that crippled leg of yours?” Milo pokes at my leg.

We look at each other for a beat and then burst out laughing. It’s not an awkward laugh but a belly aching “haha” laugh. It’s been forever since we have laughed like this.

“I’ll slow you down before making a limp for it,” I sass back. “Maybe I’ll knee you in the nuts before I rob you.”

“Ouch,” Milo fakes being in pain as he covers his crotch with both hands. “Such vile thoughts from such a respectable young lady.”

“I am no lady. I am depraved.”

“No, you are cute.”

“Shut up,” I quip.

Milo quirks an eyebrow and pauses. “Okay, vigilante, if you are done with your crime spree for the day, should we order some lunch? I am starving.”

“Sure, I could eat.”

Milo looks at me quizzically.

“What?” My eyes are still on my sketchbook, but from my peripheral vision I am aware of his stare.

“You are being so agreeable. This is the first time you so easily agreed to have a meal with me.”

“Want me to be disagreeable? Fine. Go choke on a dick, Milo.”

Milo chuckles; this time it’s an even deeper laugh. “It’s just eerie, that’s all.”

“Don’t get used to it then.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I don’t want you to have the luxury of eating regularly and getting fat.”

My brows shoot up to my forehead, but a smile still tugs at my lips. “Are you body-shaming me? Does that mean you’ll restrict my food order? Tell me that you will at least spend five dollars on me for lunch.”

Milo grins from ear to ear. “I can’t afford all of five dollars. I’ll let you order from the dollar menu. You can work your way up to the five-dollar meal status.”

“I don’t deserve such extravagance,” I say sarcastically.

“Nothing but the best for you.” He quickly reaches over to give me a peck on the cheek.

“Ugh!” I give him a dirty look and wipe the kiss away, which just makes him smile even more. I dig the sharp end of my pencil tip in my thigh in order to jolt myself awake. Even with an Ambien, I couldn’t sleep more than two hours last night.

I stare at Milo as he calls the restaurant to put in our food order, a feast fit for a king.

Milo is happy. Chipper. Sweet. Jesting. Milo is being fun and funny. By everyone’s account, these are characteristics Milo hasn’t displayed in years.

So, whatever the hell happened to this man, this man in front of me right now?

Milo told me that I sucked the soul out of him. Is that my lasting effect?

If our paths never crossed, could Milo have continued to be this person, without all of the other darkness that consumed him?

I guess the same could be said about me. I would have been a different person if our paths never crossed. One action: Theressa leaving us and moving to Europe. That’s all it took.

That one action started a chain reaction that haunts all of us till today. That one action led to our paths crossing, and it changed us both.

I quickly turn to a new page in my sketchbook and start drawing Milo. I want to preserve this man, as he is, in front of me. It’s been so long since I have seen this side of him.

I work quickly to try to hold on and conserve him as he is right now. I have to be fast before he can morph into the other man that I don’t recognize.

April 1st, 2020

-----------

Milo

Raven has been working nonstop for the last couple of days. She has turned the study into a design studio, getting ready to showcase outfits for the website her and Alexa are launching for their new partnership.

Since everyone in the household eats separately, I have turned it into a habit to eat every meal with Raven, most of the time in the study. I also sneak in coffee breaks in between meals.

It’s insane to think that Raven stayed away for years when being only a few hours away from her is now impossible for me to tolerate.

I thought my obsession had already skyrocketed to its peak. Come to find out; it’s growing at an even more accelerated rate than ever before.

I can’t even slow it down.

I have this need to consume her. To be constantly around her. There is an incessant craving inside me to rule every one of her thoughts.

I want to lock her up so she can’t even talk to anyone but me. I want to be the first thing she thinks of and the last thing she dreams about.

She invokes an insanity and passion that is not elicited in any other aspect of my life. My work. My family. My success. None of it is as thought-provoking or profound as her.

But despite my obsession having reached a new height, I am forcing myself to let her finish her work.

She looked frazzled during our lunch today. Apparently, she is behind schedule for the photos her and Alexa plan to take for their website and Instagram.

So, I haven’t barged in on her or seen her in the last seven hours. But who’s counting?

Finally, at nine p.m., I mosey into the study and drop the large carryout bag on top of the wooden table. Raven is on the floor, putting pins on a mannequin.

In the last few weeks, her jet-black hair has grown and is hanging around her face. Her pale skin looks flushed from her current efforts. And her red lips are too fucking inviting.

I inhale sharply when Raven looks up at me. Fuck. Is there no end to this madness? She is so fucking tempting. Even in this poorly lit room and a five-dollar tank top, she looks edible.

How does she manage to do this to me? I am nothing but her puppet, and she is the master puppeteer, pulling at all of my heartstrings.

“Hi. We are eating,” I announce even though she is the only thing I want to eat right now.

“We are?” Raven squints her eyes.

“Rave, it’s almost nine p.m.” And I need contact with you right fucking now.

Raven gapes at that information. She doesn’t argue as she peels herself off the floor to stretch.

She plops down on her chair as I take out the sandwiches. I sit across from her in my usual chair, when I feel something poking me, so I jump back up.

“What the fuck! Is that a roach?”

I lean in closer to inspect and find a rubber cockroach on my seat.

“April Fools!” Raven smirks.

I give her the stink eye and throw the rubber roach in the trash can.

“Very mature.” I suppress a smile.

Mia and Raven loved practical jokes when they were young. One year they replaced my toothpaste with shaving cream. I got them back by donating a good chunk of their clothes to the Salvation Army.

Raven can do much better than this.

“That I am!”

“I expected more from you, Rave. This wasn’t even funny.”

“Well, I laughed when you jumped,” she grins. “And I didn’t have much time to prepare given my new hectic schedule. Next year,” Raven points her index finger at me.

Next year?

“Is this what you were teaching my little sister while she was visiting you in Paris?” I divert the topic, but my mind is racing behind her words—next year.

“No,” Raven responds casually. “I was teaching her how to pick up men.”

“You are not allowed to be around Mia anymore without proper adult supervision.” I give her a stern look, which Raven returns by flashing all of her teeth at me.

We dig into our food, but my eyes stay trained on her. Raven has never referred to the future before, adamant that this is all temporary. But now...

Next. Fucking. Year.

CHAPTER 6

-----------

Raven

After I completed some work-related tasks, I decided to give Uncle Reese a break and take over Tessa duty. I have been sitting by her bed with a tray of food for two hours, but I finally realize that it’s futile.

I close the door to her room and walk out with the tray of untouched food, only to bump into Milo in the hallway. It’s late, dark, and his silhouette nearly gives me a heart attack.

“Jesus Christ,” I grab my pounding heart with my right hand as Milo grabs the tray that I nearly drop. “You scared the shit out of me. Bell. Around your neck. Look into it.”

Instead of responding, Milo looks around for a place to put down the tray.

He looks through my open bedroom door and marches inside to presumably put the tray down.

Milo is being unusually quiet. I follow him inside but stop in my tracks as soon as I take in the room.

“Whoa, what happened here?”

Milo settles the tray on my desk table while I look around. My carpet has been replaced with hardwood floors. There is a beautiful rug in the middle of the room. When did he do all of this?

Milo absentmindedly looks around.

“I recruited Brandon and the dads to help me tear out your old carpet, and install hardwood floors. With a four-person crew, we were able to finish while you were working in the study. The rug was just an easy online order.”

“You know how to install hardwood floors?” I ask in astonishment.

He shrugs. “I have always been handy around the house.”

I knew that. He re-did Mia’s room all by himself.

“It looks beautiful. Thank you.”

Milo stares at the uneaten tray of food instead of responding.

Recently, Milo has become the only person I speak to on a daily basis. What started off as an understanding over Tessa and our current situation, has morphed into genuine camaraderie.

We have been helping each other with Tessa related issues, along with keeping up with household duties and chores.

Now we eat every meal together despite Milo’s grueling schedule. I have been around him enough to pick up on his new mood shifts, regardless of his poker face. Right now, something is definitely off.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “What’s going on?”

“Tessa,” he responds quietly. “Mia found her with a bottle of pills earlier today.”

“Sleeping pills?” I audibly gasp.

Milo nods and my eyes widen in horror.

Tessa tried this once before. She was exhausted by her recovery process and lost her will power.

I didn’t realize things had escalated to this degree in only a couples of weeks.

“Did she—”

“When Mia walked in, Tessa had the bottle in her hand. She was just staring at it,” Milo runs both hands through his hair. “Fuck! Mia shouldn’t have to see that.”

“Does she have to be admitted again?” I force myself to ask the question neither of us wants to answer.

Milo shakes his head. “She doesn’t want to go back, and I don’t want to force her.”

I nod. Tessa was institutionalized after her last attempt. The place was awful, and it smelled like death.

She was miserable and horrified. It might be recommended by doctors, but I am against sending her back there as well. Then again, I am biased towards this specific topic.

“What happens now?” I ask in a small voice.

“I truly don’t know.”

Milo never sounds unsure. He always has a plan; he always knows what happens next. I believed everything would be okay because he believed it. We have all been following his confident cues, expecting him to have the answers.

The expectation for me to lessen the burden of others.

That’s his truth. As far as this household is concerned, the weight of the world has always been on one person’s shoulders. My heart squeezes in my chest at that very reminder.

I step forward and wrap my arms around his neck. Milo stiffens in shock for a moment but immediately pulls me closer. He holds me so close that I can hear his rapid heartbeat.

“I am sorry,” I rasp out. “I am so sorry.”

He doesn’t respond. We stay locked in for a few minutes. When I feel Milo moving his head, I release my hands around his neck.

Instead of stepping back, Milo presses a kiss on my neck and inhales deeply. His chest rises and falls heavily, his sporadic breathing fanning my skin.

I tense.

He said he wouldn’t do this to me anymore. That he’d respect my choices.

A different type of panic takes hold.

I gently push against his shoulders to create distance. Milo doesn’t budge or remove his hold. His green orbs penetrate into me. I know what he is thinking, and he knows that I know.

No matter how much of a friend he is to me, the monster within him will always rule him, and he will always prevail. Milo’s patience has run out, and my number of allocated peaceful days has expired.

“Rave, don’t push me away right now.” His voice sounds almost angry and cold. His breathing is ragged, and I can hear his heartbeat hammering away. I can feel him shaking for control.

I don’t counter. I don’t push him away either. But when Milo presses another kiss on my neck, I speak up.

“I can’t do this to him. It will kill him,” I respond automatically in a monotone voice.

I hold my breath when I realize what I just voiced.

I have made two monumental mistakes. I got immersed in our family drama and forgot my strategy to avoid him.

Milo told me that he can’t control himself around me. By his own admission interaction with him only puts my safety in jeopardy, no matter the situation.

The second mistake is bringing up Reid.

Milo’s fingers on my waist flex into my skin to the point of pain, but I don’t make a single sound.

“I just meant that he is my best friend,” I try to salvage the mistake.

“That’s not what you said before,” Milo says, deceptively softly.

“Nothing happened between Reid and I. But that doesn’t mean I want to hurt him like this. I’m here with you, trying to meet you halfway. Why can’t you just take the win?”

“Because it’s not enough.” He presses a kiss on my cheek. “Part of you isn’t enough.” Another kiss on my jaw. “Nothing is ever enough with you.” Kiss on my ear. “I need all of you.”

Milo’s lips move to my bottom lip. When he feels my whole body tense, he breaks the kiss to lean back and speculate.

“Baby,” he presses, running his hands up and down my sides. “He already caught us together. Pushing me away just so you can be loyal to him will not change his mind.”

Deep down, I am aware that Reid is out of my life.  I knew he wouldn't forgive me after catching Milo and I together in that state. What happens with Milo now is inconsequential in terms of my friendship with Reid.

But that's not why I am holding back.

I like Milo, my friend.

I am terrified and petrified of the other Milo that resides within him.

I am not pushing him away because of Reid. I am pushing Milo away because of Milo.

My eyes quickly flicker to the bedroom entranceway. If I can somehow get out of his hold, it will still take me about twenty seconds to make it there and exit the room. With Milo’s six-foot frame and long legs, it will take him half of that amount to catch me.

Rejecting Milo is not a viable option. He told me that his anger is fueled by rejection.

Alternately, I can yell for help and drag our families here. But I already know that I won’t do that. If I intended to tell them, I would have done it a long time ago. I can’t live with the repercussions of what it would do to them if they ever found out.

I try to think of other excuses. The period excuse doesn’t work on Milo. It doesn’t bother him. He didn’t even care about my injuries, so migraine is out as well. And I am out of options.

Milo kisses my cheek again and his lips land on my ear. He nibbles on my ear; his whole body vibrates as he holds on to me tightly. He is waiting for my “permission,” but even if I say no, Milo is still going to go through with this.

I have two options since he is clearly not letting go of the hold he has on me.

I can choose this on my own “free” will. Whether it be by force or by my choice, Milo can always provide me with oblivion, which might not be terrible given the current drama.

Or I can refuse him and watch the man who has recently become a confidante turn into the monster I hate. Then I’ll have to drown in self-loathing afterward when I realize that he provided me with the same oblivion, but just against my will.

At the very least, I can deceive my mind into thinking this is my choice to find my own oblivion. I rather be the one making this decision than have the decision be forced upon me.

So, I choose the lesser of the two evils.

Milo’s mouth moves from my ears back to my face. I have barely relaxed my shoulders when a pair of lips slam against mine, and a hand goes around my waist, pulling me to him.

Milo’s hand lands in my hair, sifting through them roughly. He breaks the kiss and quickly walks over to shut the bedroom door.

Less than ten seconds.

That’s how long it takes him to close the door, come back, and collide his lips back on mine.

I can barely breathe with his tongue exploring my mouth so greedily. He is kissing me like he hasn’t kissed me in years.

Hurried.

Urgent.

Demanding.

Milo shuffles my body backward and pushes me onto the bed. He kneels on the floor to slide my leggings down, coming back up to pull my shirt over my head.

Milo leans in again to kiss me, letting me feel his erection pressed against my thigh.

The panic comes back again. I can try to convince myself otherwise, but this isn’t my choice.

Far from it.

I am not in control in any way.

Milo has fucked me more than once since I moved back. None of those times were my choice either, but somehow this is worse.

He pretended to be my friend.

He pretended to give me the façade of a choice, when in reality I have no rights.

It’s a false truth. Oxymoron.

Articles of clothing are flying everywhere till I am lying naked on the bed. Milo amplifies his kisses, his tongue exploring my mouth and his hands shaping my body. He licks his way down to my breast.

His words surround me.

“You are so beautiful.”

“You taste so good.”

“I missed this.”

There is a shortness of breath in each sentence. A tremor resonating with the words. My own insides twist with each false syllable. Each letter. Each alphabet. It feels like a heavy slab of marble is sitting on top of my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Milo, stop,” I blurt out before I can block the words from tumbling out of my mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I gasp for oxygen.

Milo is frowning with a genuinely concerned look on his face. “Hey, it’s okay,” Milo lifts up and brushes the hair off my forehead. “What happened?”

I can’t breathe. I should be able to. There is no scientific explanation for why I cannot.

Yet, I can’t get the oxygen to go down my nostrils. And my throat is parched like a tree bark.

Milo does not wear his heart on his sleeve or face, but right now he is staring at me with nothing but apprehension.

“Rave, you are scaring me,” he kisses my temple. “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on? Do you want some water?”

I frantically nod.

I watch Milo move to the mini-fridge and grab a couple of water bottles. I didn’t realize it, but it looks like he has also undressed down to his boxers.

Milo unscrews one of the water bottles and hands it to me. I feel his eyes on me as I chug all of it. He doesn’t say anything and watches me closely.

“Raven, are you okay?” he asks again.

I nod, averting his eyes. Milo rubs my back and leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

I jerk back from the quick movement. “Stop,” I say it again.

And he does. Again.

“Umm… I-I am not in the mood.”

“Did I do something?” he implores and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.

“No. I-I am just overwhelmed with everything going on around the house. I don’t think I can do anything physical with all this going on...” my voice trails off with bullshit excuses.

Milo reaches over to kiss me. I am very aware that I am naked, but I can’t move or cover up. Dread builds for what I know is about to happen; Milo is going to pounce on me.

But Milo bides his time kissing my temple, cheek, and jaw, before dropping his forehead on mine.

Grabbing at the edge of the bedsheet, he suddenly pulls it up and covers my naked body with it.

I don’t know what to say or think, so I just give him a confused look.

“You are shivering,” he explains. “Come here.”

He wraps the bedsheet around me tightly and collects me in his arms. Milo leans back on a pillow with me on his chest and kisses the top of my head.

He catches my forearm in his hand to inspect the red marks I just made worse while I was absentmindedly pinching myself silly.

He doesn’t ask or comment on it. Neither of us speaks as I lie on his chest in surprisingly comfortable silence.

“What do you want to do tonight?” he looks down right as I peek up. He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I know you are not in the mood, but I still want to do something.”

I am speechless.

I was never in the mood any of the other times either, but that never stopped him. Can a sexless Milo really exist? Am I really in the clear?

“Umm… Netflix and chill?” I suggest sheepishly.

Milo gives me a reassuring smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“I hardly doubt that passes as a date,” I retort on impulse.

“So, you will have to take me out on a real date then.” Milo raises an eyebrow and grins.

“Excuse me?”

“You said that hardly passes as a date. So, I assume you’ll take me out on a real date. I want to be wined and dined,” he smiles cockily.

“I don’t think you understand how it works. Girls are supposed to be wined and dined.”

“Okay.” Milo shrugs.

“Okay, what?”

He presses his lips on my temple. “I’ll take you out on a real date to wine and dine you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Milo grins again. “That’s what it sounded like to me.”

My brows shoot up which just makes him laugh. Milo holds me tighter, careful not to make any sudden movements, and turns on the television.

My dread starts to dissipate with each passing second.

Right now, Milo feels like the man I used to know. The man who made me feel safe, not scared. The man who made me lunches, wrote me lunch notes, filled my empty heart. The man who takes care of me. This man almost seems real.

Is it possible to ever get this man back without the nightmare man that follows?

I don’t know. All I know is I want to preserve this man in my memory. I want to make every second count whenever I get this man back in my life.

I lean on Milo’s broad chest, hug him tightly and breathe him in. He is surprised by my affectionate gesture and engulfs me into his body with both arms.

And that’s exactly where I stay for the rest of the evening.

-----------

Milo

Raven was terrified last night. I watched her with apprehension till I felt her body calm down. Afterward, she stayed complacent in my arms for hours.

She later asked me to sleep in my room, citing respect for our parents as the reason.

However, I know better. She doesn't want me to hear her nightmares. I have heard her scream in her sleep… asking me to stop.

I thought enough time had passed, but Raven is still terrified of me. I have no idea of the depth of her emotional scars which means she might never be okay.

I thought she only freaked out if I forced her. Now it’s likely that she will always react to just the threat of getting physical with me.

These reactions might be permanent. I have to find a way to make her feel safe again in my presence.

Raven’s well-being has finally trumped my selfishness.

With that resolve, I open the door to Raven’s room.

“I have a surprise,” I announce. I pull out Raven’s favorite candy bar from the kraft bag I brought along with me. I lay the bar on Raven’s side table and set the small bag on the floor.

Raven is sitting on her bed and packing one of the custom outfits she recently finished.

“You’re pregnant?” Raven quirks an eyebrow as she grabs the candy bar.

I smile at that. Raven’s sense of humor is back with full force. I’ve really missed this part of her.

I can’t put my finger to it but something has been different between us since last night. The moment I stopped after Raven asked me to, something changed for her.

“You’re funny.” I plop down on the bed next to her.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but you have been putting on some weight lately, especially around the midsection,” Raven gestures around her stomach. “Most people don’t show till the second trimester. Just saying!”

“So now you are the one body shaming me?”

“Would you rather that I lie?” she deadpans.

I grab the hem of my sweater and pull it up to my chest. “Could you please identify the parts that dissatisfy you? I'll start working on it.”

Raven flushes at my naked torso. She is turning fucking crimson.

I was just kidding, but I might never pull this sweater down if she keeps giving me that reaction.

“Umm…” Raven looks down with a shy smile instead of responding. “Umm…”

She can’t even make eye contact. Fuck. Me. If this is not the hottest thing I have ever seen.

I put her out of her misery and lower my sweater.

“I’ll start my diet tomorrow. It’s called the two-finger diet,” I fake gag with two fingers in my mouth. “Double the taste, zero the calories.”

“Ew. You are so gross,” she throws me a fake disgusted look.

“So, ready for your surprise?” I ask again.

“Are you having twins?”

“Yes, and they are yours,” I deadpan.

“You are just saying that to get me to pay you child alimony,” she retorts.

“Hell yeah, I am. I will show up at your door for my monthly checks.”

“So, you are pregnant?” Raven smiles excitedly.

“You get that out of your system?”

“Naaah,” Raven drawls, “I think I have a few more in me. Are you going to breastfeed?”

“Stop,” I roll my eyes. “Are you ready to do something fun? Want to go for a walk?”

“Wow, a walk,” she pulls out a mocking tone. “Someone call the party police.”

“Okay, Mrs. Sarcasma, do you want to go or not?”

“Duh,” she sighs. “But I need to take a shower and get changed first.”

“I’ll wait for you.” I give her a nod as she slowly gets up.

While Raven showers, I shoot Reid another text. Reid left a few weeks ago. He sent exactly one email to our parents to let them know that he is fine.

No other contact other than that.

Reid has been absent from the family before for long stretches of time, so my parents aren’t overly concerned. However, I am worried.

I have tried every medium to reach him.

What would I even say if I did get in touch with him?

I don’t want him coming back here. I can’t deal with Reid being in the same room, the same house, or even the same planet as Raven.

After Raven fell down the stairs, Reid came by Raven’s room to check on her, only to find her sleeping on my chest. He stayed at the house long enough to ensure she was conscious.

Past that, I don’t think he could deal with seeing us together.

I am aware of how much of a dipshit I was to him. I pushed him too far. I don’t know what his mental state is like. He hasn’t used his phone or any of his credit cards since he left.

It’s a mindfuck.

I want my brother, Reid, to be alright.

I also plan to murder Raven’s new romantic interest, Reid.

Giving up, I park my butt on Raven’s desk. I try to fidget with my phone, but I am really staring at that bathroom door.

I am anxious and nervous, all mixed into one.

When I hear the bathroom door creak open, I straighten. As soon as I see Raven, I do a double take. My eyes widen and my mouth goes dry.

Holy hell.

She is freshly showered and changed, wearing black yoga pants and a plain white shirt. She has no makeup on, but her face is still glowing. She looks clean, fresh and… sexy as all hell.

Her dark hair is damp from the shower. The excess water from her hair is running down her neck and trailing her arms.

I stare at those droplets with an immense need to lick them off her arms, along with every bit of her skin. I want to lick every inch of her. Her whole damn body.

It’s impossible not to feel this way if I am around her. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s unfair for any human being to be this beautiful and unattainable.

She reminds me of a book we once read in school: Helen of Troy. I wonder if she ever read it. There was a famous saying in the book.

Was this the face that launch’d a thousand ships?

“What?” Raven frowns at me.

I realize that I am staring. I try to snap out of my mental reverie filled with admiration for the woman in front of me. Shaking my head, I grab the brown kraft bag from the floor.

“Nothing. Ready to go?”

“Let’s go.”

-----------

Raven

Milo and I are walking to a park I used to frequent in my teen years. It’s one of my favorite places in this neighborhood. The park is hidden, with a beautiful koi pond next to it.

“Here,” Milo points under a tree by the pond.

He takes his jacket off and lays it on the grass. Milo opens the small kraft bag he brought along with him.

I peek over his shoulders curiously while he pulls out the items from inside. He keeps blocking my view with his body so I focus on the koi pond instead.

It’s beautiful.

As soon as Milo finishes setting up, I divert my attention back to him and peek at the spread.

“Boxed wine and saran wrapped sandwiches,” I list the items sitting on top of his jacket.

“I said I was going to wine and dine you. Wine,” he points at the extra miniature boxed wine. “And dine,” he points at the two sandwiches.

I stare at Milo for a heartbeat and then burst out laughing.

The kind of laughter I haven’t let out in years.

The kind that has tears leaking out of my eyes.

The last time Milo did an over the top gesture, it was… well, overwhelming. Goofy gestures are more my speed.

This really wasn’t that funny, but he knew that I’d find this funny. I always called Milo “bougie.” Boxed wine is definitely not his style, but humor is mine.

“It wasn’t that funny,” he defends his gesture when my laughter has still not subsided.

I hold on to my stomach and grin. A dork exists under the cool godlike CEO surface. I can’t help but look at that dork with… affection. Tender affection.

I feel nostalgic. I am looking at the playful goofy man I grew up with, the one I have been seeing more and more of lately.

There is something else too. I can’t put my finger to it, but something is different with him today than it was yesterday. It’s hard to explain.

We sit down on the jacket that Milo laid out. I start unwrapping the sandwiches while Milo twists off the cap to the miniature boxed wine.

“Okay, stop.” I hold up a hand. “I lived in Paris for four years. This is considered a disgrace to my cultural immersion experience. You have made your point and you have made me laugh. Can we please be adults now and drink actual fucking wine instead of piss?”

Milo still pours the wine with a grin. The tiny box is only enough to fill the two disposable cups he brought along. Reaching into the bag, he also pulls out two water bottles.

“Piss?” he passes me one of the bottles. “Your lady-like vocabulary precedes you.”

“Piss. Cocksucker. Fucker. Motherfucker. Cunt.” I count off curse words with my fingers.

“Classy, Rave,” he sneers. “We need soap to wash out your potty mouth.”

“That’s not even the worst of it.”

“I am almost scared to ask,” he leans in curiously. “What’s the worst of it?”

“Moist,” I shrug without a trace of humor.

Milo chokes on his sandwich and I grin cockily, feeling satisfied with my delivery.

“How the hell is that the worst word? Explain!”

“Ask any woman. Moist is the worst word in the English dictionary. Women cringe when they hear it. Hence, moist. The most offensive word and the worst of them all.”

Milo bursts out laughing.

Loud, hearty laughter.

I. Fucking. Missed. This.

I. Fucking. Missed. Us.

I missed our laughs. Our teasing. I missed all of it.

I return my attention back to my sandwich. I am sure Milo brought me here for more than a gag date. If he insisted on getting me out of the house, it’s likely that he wants to have a talk.

Appropriate social measures, before embarking on awkward conversations, suggest small talk while dancing around the bigger issue at hand. So.... “I realized that I know very little about your company. Tell me about it.”

Milo decides to humor me and dives into the nitty-gritty of his company. He even explains the most mundane aspects of his job with enthusiasm.

“You work a lot,” I state the most obvious observation.

“It comes with the territory of owning your own business. Plus, the numbers don’t lie. The more I work and the more I promote the app, the better our profit margins are.”

“Why do you need so much money?” I bite my tongue when the rude question slips out. I need to work on my filter. Ever since I hit my head, I have a foot in the mouth syndrome. “Sorry,” I try to recover. “I meant you are already well off. So, is it ambition or is it about making ends meet?”

Milo gives me a long look. He looks... lonely. “You know, people think that if you have money then all of your money problems disappear. It’s not true. The more money you have, the more expenses you accrue and the more responsibilities land on you.” His half smile is nothing more than an exhausted smile. A sad smile.

“Expenses? You mean your bougie apartment?” I tease, hoping to cheer him up even though I am not sure what’s bothering him. “Or does the responsible Milo Sinclair secretly harbor expensive vices that none of us simpletons are aware of?”

He still only gives me half a smile. But when he runs a hand through the long hair partially covering his eyes, his hair moves, letting me see that his eyes are now lit up.

Taking the challenge to heart, I suddenly want nothing more than a genuine smile out of him. “What is this secret expensive habit of yours, Milo? Ooo… Do you spend all of your money indulging in expensive whores?”

“Hey,” he scowls at me, “that’s not cool.”

“Oh right, they are called high class escorts,” I nod once with mock understanding.

“Rave,” Milo warns.

“No?” I tilt my feigned confused face. “Lady of the night?”

Milo’s face finally splits open with a genuine, gorgeous fucking smile. He plays along with me. His pretend exasperated voice doesn’t hide his amusement. “Sure. Why not?”

“That’s too easy of an admission so it’s gotta be something else. Gambling problems?”

“Amongst other things,” he says casually, with an air of feigned mystery.

“What other things? Crack? Heroin?”

Milo playfully lifts a bored shoulder.

“Expensive mail order brides?”

“Sure, Raven.”

“Midget tossing?”

“What?” Milo’s mouth drops open at my ridiculous suggestion.

“Haven’t you seen Wolf of Wall Street? It’s in the movie and it’s a very expensive habit.”

“Raven!” Guardian Milo’s disciplining voice is out. “First of all, please use less offensive terms in your references, such as a little person or someone with dwarfism,” he corrects my less than politically correct language.

“You are right. Sorry, little person tossing,” I correct myself and Milo rolls his eyes.

“Second of all, that’s an awful thing to do,” he chides.

“Versus the crack, cocaine, heroin, and the ladies of the night?”

“You didn’t mention cocaine,” he counters. “And none of those included tossing an actual human being as target practice. That’s inhumane.”

“Well, obviously I think it’s uncool,” I defend my honor. “It was the men in Wolf of Wall Street who did it.”

“That’s the peer pressure sentiment,” Milo tsks at me. “If all of your friends jump off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge as well?”

“You tell me, Milo! All of my friends just died jumping off a bridge, and now I am pretty fucking depressed. So, maybe!”

Milo looks at me with his mouth wide open and bursts out laughing, almost toppling over at my comment. I put on a smile as well, realizing my joke might be of poor taste… to myself.

Milo stops laughing and casually reaches over to open up my fist. I didn’t realize that I was digging my nails into my palm again. It’s a nervous habit I picked up over the last few years. Neither of us comment on it as he affectionately entangles our fingers to hold my hand.

“You know,” I say in a prying tone. “If you give me an answer to my question, then I’ll stop coming up with all these inhumane guesses. Just give me an example.” I am feeling genuinely curious and nosey at this point. Why does he work so damn much? “For example…” I trail off by moving my hand in a waving motion, encouraging him to finish the sentence.

“For example,” Milo sighs, “both Mia and Reid’s tuitions have gone up. I pay for some of Dad’s expenses, but he is not working for the coming months. So, I am picking up more than usual. I had to make a healthy donation to get Tessa started on that clinical trial. It came highly recommended even though it’s clearly ineffective, which means I might have to pay for a new program. I am giving a hefty loan,” he uses air quotes for the word loan, “to—”

Milo cuts himself off, as if realizing what he was just about to spill.

“To my parents,” I finish his sentence with an understanding small nod.

Milo doesn’t deny or confirm the statement, presumably to relieve me of the shame I feel over Milo taking on my family’s financial burden. I wish I could help them instead, a thought that only makes me want to work harder every day. In the meanwhile, Milo is their only lifeline.

In fact, Milo is the only lifeline for this whole family. Nothing has changed even after all of these years. Everyone still shamelessly exploits Milo. He spent his life taking care of this family. He studied so hard, he worked so hard, and the struggle is still not over.

It never ends for him.

I can’t wrap my brain around the weight of his never-ending burden. This damn family is a pack of vampires, sucking one human being dry.

When will this toxic-as-fuck family stop needing him?

Apparently, my attempt at making small talk is fucking terrible. Our exchange dwindles after that little statement. I am personally too distracted by the information he just disclosed.

Milo playfully punches my shoulder. “Stop it, Rave.”

“Stop what?”

“You look like someone just died,” he grins. “Don’t worry. I am still a very wealthy man. It’s not about the money. It’s about—”

“The expectation for you to lessen the burden of others?” I give him a sad smile, feeling bitter on his behalf. “Milo,” I say softly, “Why are you doing this? It’s not your responsibility.”

“I like helping my family,” he says it as if it’s no big deal.

“They are not your family,” I argue.

That comment earns me a scowl, and a look that I hate to see on his face.

“I mean,” I quickly add, “of course, we are family. You know what I mean. You have your own parents to take care of. You don’t need another set of parents to take care of.”

“Rave,” Milo says quietly, “no one asked me for this. But I would never rest easy knowing that I could do something to help in their given situation. I am doing this for myself.”

Milo was right. I forgot, but he reminded me of exactly who he truly is. Milo will probably take care of this whole family till his dying breath. He would do it all, and without a single complaint.

I look away. My heart is tearing open for him right now. I wish I could somehow fix this for him. It’s frustrating to watch someone you care for suffer, without having the ability to change their situation. I want to take over his responsibilities to give him a break so he doesn’t have to wake up every single day of his damn life doing something he doesn’t want to. I want to give him his freedom and somehow relieve him from the captivity of this poisonous family.

“It’s unfair that you don’t have your own support system,” I mumble under my breath, bitterness seeping through. “Someone who splits the responsibilities with you and lessens your burden for once. I hate that so much.”

Milo turns to me in surprise, almost in reflex, pinning me with a weird look. He is studying me curiously, but he doesn’t expand on his thoughts. He simply holds my gaze.

The morbid thoughts have me staying quiet. Milo is watching me from the corner of his eye, unimpressed by my mood. I’m trying to be better company, but I can’t get my energy level up. Since my attempt at small talk is terrible, we might as well get to the real point.

“Anyways, what do you want to talk to me about?” I ask him directly.

Milo gives me an ominous smile. “Why do you assume I have something to talk to you about? I can’t take you out without needing to have a talk?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because if you were trying to woo me, you would have done something fancier. You are doing something neutral because you want me to feel comfortable enough to talk to you.”

“Woo you?” Milo marvels with amusement. “Who even uses the word woo anymore?”

“Well, I just used it,” I indignantly cross my arms over my chest.

“It seems like your English has become outdated since your travels to the foreign lands.”

We both laugh at that. Milo’s hair falls back over his forehead, partially covering his eyes again. It might be sexy as hell, but it’s irritating not to be able to see his eyes.

“I want to talk about what happened last night,” he finally confesses.

“Pass,” I drawl. What is his obsession with this topic?

“Raven,” he warns in a silky tone.

Fine. Two can play at this game. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

No one, and I mean no one, ever dares to ask Milo about his sexual past. I was sleeping with him and I still didn’t dare ask. We used to hear about his “conquests” through the girls, never through Milo himself. He is a private person.

But if he wants me to share then this is a two-way street.

Milo fixes me with his “don’t start with me” look. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. I see the irritation flashing in his eyes before he looks away.

“What’s going on with your new business?” He gives me a sideways glance. Another change of topic. This time it’s a neutral topic that makes neither of us uncomfortable.

I reward him with a big smile and throw all kinds of details his way. “I also uploaded all of my work on Instagram,” I add to my ramblings. “It’s linked to the website Alexa helped me create. She is a magician. She set up my website with an online store. People can go on my website to choose one of my designs. They can customize the outfit, put in their measurements, and place the order. If I get too many orders, I can even pause the website till I get caught up. It’s a pretty simple streamline.”

“How many dresses have you sold?”

“I have sold five total. I want to finish and ship them out within seven days of the purchase date, so I can ask the clients for a good review.”

“That’s an awesome idea, Rave.” Milo beams at me with a proud look on his face. My heart immediately skips a beat.

“I am even thinking of hiring seamstresses and overseeing them making the dresses. Then I can accept more orders and ensure quality assurance,” I add for no fucking reason.

Honestly, I don’t know if I will hire people. I just want to see that look of pride on his face again. I used to crave that look when I was younger. I never thought it could still have the same effect on me. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to impress him. I want him to see me as the light he doesn’t have to take care of, unlike the rest of them.

“That’s a really good idea. It will give you limitless options,” Milo holds onto his proud smile from before, and my heart flutters the same as before. But this time in the way I’d imagine it would in a movie. Or in a book. Or in song lyrics. Even my pussy skips a beat.

As we wrap up our meal, Milo starts to clear out the trash. I try to help him but he refuses my help, simply grabbing my hand to pull me to my feet once he is done. He brushes off the grass from his jacket as I uselessly gawk at him from the sidelines.

I keep stealing glances at him. He looks unbelievably gorgeous today in his black sweater. That little show he put on earlier when he lifted his sweater to reveal his perfect washboard abs; I thought my chest was going to burst open. Every single one of his abs are stacked on top of the other. It’s un-fucking-believable.

Is it anti-feminist to suggest that his permanent job should be to fill out a sweater? He might as well be a male model, especially with that hair. And that body. And those eyes.

I have seen him for weeks. I have scoffed at his superficial beauty. I thought women were stupid to fall for his act. Suddenly, I am as affected as those stupid women. Maybe even more so.

Last night, I couldn’t breathe at the thought of sleeping with him.

Now, I can’t breathe every time he looks at me, but for a very different reason.

“Did I tell you that there is a woman at work who keeps squeezing my ass?” Milo’s lighthearted voice rolls smoothly off his tongue as we walk home.

Excitement courses through me. “Don’t tell me that Jaci is on another bender to even out the scoreboard for gender inequality that exists during workplace harassment?”

“The one and only,” Milo chuckles.

Jaci likes to give drunk speeches about how gender inequality in the workplace even impacts sexual harassment. It’s time for the females to harass male coworkers and make them uncomfortable for a change. No one argues with her when she cites facts to back her proposition.

“Oh God,” I roll my eyes and laugh. “Was it today?”

“Yup. She first tried to make Brandon and I uncomfortable by gawking at us. Then she grabbed Brandon’s pecker and called him tutz, and squeezed my ass right as my Dad walked in.”

I let out such unladylike laughter that I almost fall over. Milo entwines our fingers to pull me closer. I hold on to him tightly, and soon I pester him for more “dad jokes.”

CHAPTER 7

-----------

Raven

The door to Milo’s room is slightly ajar. None of the “kids” in the house knock when they enter each other’s rooms. So, if you are indecent, your door better be shut and locked. If your door is slightly ajar, it’s an open invitation for the other siblings to enter.

Nonetheless, I peek through his open door before making my way inside. I have been tasked with waking up Milo… by Milo himself. He knows that I don’t sleep much so it was a sure way to receive a wake up call.

Milo might chide me for my sleep schedule, but my nights have become very productive. For example, I ended up working all of last night with my mother. I received too many dress orders and enlisted her help to finish on time. Mom’s work ethic is solid, and she is good with her hands. Maybe we can still have our mother-daughter duo team one-day.

With Mom’s assistance, I was able to ship out all of the outfits earlier this morning. Afterward, I came straight here. Milo has a meeting today that he cannot be late for. But he also put in a late-night and was worried about sleeping through his alarm.

Milo is sprawled out on the bed under the covers, his unconscious body is reflecting mental mixed with physical exhaustion. Looking at his sleep-deprived state, I don’t have the heart to wake him up.

According to my watch, he can probably get away with sleeping for thirty more minutes, forty-five minutes maximum if he doesn’t deem a shower necessary for a video conference meeting. I decide to wait until the last possible second to wake him up.

As I wait out the clock, I take in the condition of the room. Milo is very clean, but this room is… it’s not messy but not up to his usual standard—no doubt due to his schedule.

As quietly as I can, I start to clean up. By the time I take his hamper to the laundry room to throw in a load, at least twenty minutes has passed. I come back to his room to find him sleeping through his alarm. I wait ten more minutes before waking him up.

“Milo,” I coax him gently.

“Mmm.” He barely moves.

“Get up, Milo.” I give him a shake.

“Was going on?” he asks with his eyes still closed.

“I’m here to wake you up.”

“For work?”

I look at him sadly. “Unfortunately.”

“Perk of being your own boss is setting your own hours,” he mumbles in his sleep.

I laugh at the nonsensical sentence that actually comes out coherently. “Yes,” I agree. “It is. But you, the boss, set a meeting that you are about to be late for.”

Milo opens his eyes, still looking hazy as hell and too fucking exhausted.

He closes his eyes again. “Okay. Two more minutes.”

I let out a deep sigh. Milo’s sleep schedule is established based on his work schedule. It’s clearly catching up to him.

I pull out the new phone. It was a gift from Milo. Actually, it wasn’t exactly a gift. He destroyed my last phone and replaced it with this one, albeit this phone is nicer.

Swiping my phone screen to unlock it, I text Alexa.

Rave: Good Morning! So, Milo has a meeting in twenty minutes.

I wait a few minutes, but I don’t receive a response. I know Alexa also worked late alongside Milo, so she might be sleeping as well. All the same, I send her one more text.

Rave: I was wondering if you know anything about this meeting?

I sigh in relief when I get her response.

Alexa: Morning! Of course I do. Why? What’s going on?

Rave: Any specific reason why Milo personally has to be there? I came in to wake him up, but I think he is exhausted. I was wondering if someone else could cover for him.

Alexa: Any one of us can take the meeting, but Milo is the one who scheduled it. All of us just got done about an hour ago. I usually don’t mind covering for him, but I honestly don’t have the energy to get out of bed. Sorry, girl.

I frown at Alexa’s text. I feel bad for asking, as I am sure she is as exhausted as Milo. However, I cannot bear the thought of waking him up now that I know he has been asleep for one hour. So, I send her a dumb text.

Rave: I’ll buy you lunch for a week.

Then I send her a ridiculous text.

Rave: I’ll make you that couture outfit you wanted. The EXACT replica.

And the stupidest text of them all. Milo would laugh at me if he were awake right now.

Rave: You know how we decided you get 6% royalty for every dress I sell? Make it 7%

Alexa: You are a terrible negotiator. You should always wait for a response after the first offer, before spewing out more.

Rave: Will you take the meeting or not?

Alexa: How can I say no when you twist my arm into it like that?

Rave: You are the best.

Alexa: I am pretty sure that’s not true.

Rave: No, you are.

Alexa: No, I’m not. But now I understand why he always called you his Xanax. Girl, you just gave up part of your company so Milo can sleep through ONE meeting.

Alexa: Also, we need to have a serious discussion about your negotiation skills if we are going to be business partners. They are terrible.

Alexa: Correction, they are non-existent.

I laugh but lock my phone as Alexa keeps sending me more texts about my poor business skills. Reaching over, I turn off Milo’s alarm which he had already snoozed. He has one of those old fashioned alarm clocks.

That dork.

That old fart.

He is like an eighty-year-old man stuck in a twenty-five-year old’s body.

I am about to get up from the bed when Milo feels the shift of my weight on the mattress, and grabs my hand.

“Stay,” he mumbles hoarsely.

Instead of moving again, I sit still and stroke his hair. He always said it was like magic when I did that, alleviating his anxiety.

I hope I still have some magic left, and can somehow take away all of his fatigue and stress.

-----------

Milo

“Oh please,” Raven laughs, dismissing me with a hand wave. “As if we don’t know of all the shenanigans you used to pull.”

I smile. “What shenanigans? I know not of any such thing. I am responsible.”

I got to sleep for a large portion of the day, thanks to whatever magic Raven must have pulled. I can’t imagine Alexa would have so easily agreed to take my meeting, which was supposed to last a few hours.

Raven herself has been working all day, and finally took a break for dinner. Our banter tonight includes discussing the shit those three used to pull when they were younger and thought I didn’t know about. Raven counters with what they think I have done back in my day.

Raven picks up her legs and tucks them under her, to get comfortable. She starts to list off all the dirt she has on me. I have probably done way worse than what she knows.

“Let’s see, I heard about how you toilet papered the neighbor’s house.”

“Lies.”

“How about the time you used chalk to draw a fake dead body on the same neighbor’s pavement, and then put police tape in front of it?”

“Character defamation. That never happened.”

Raven narrows her eyes. “Okay. Now I know this one happened, because multiple people have confirmed it. You and Brandon filled a beautiful box with dog poop, and then left it at Alexa’s doorstop for her birthday.”

“Poop is funny,” I say casually.

Raven shakes her head. “You are such a boy.”

“I was,” I protest. “We were ten.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did you guys give her the same gift on her birthday last year?”

“Hey,” I hold up a hand. “I want to go on the record and say that we did not gift her poop. We recreated an artificial dog poop model based on the original poop. It’s called a throwback to celebrate the fifteen-year mark. It’s not our fault Alexa doesn’t understand quality vintage.”

I expect our banter to continue, but Raven’s smile fades. “It hurt her feelings because she wanted you to do something thoughtful. You do know how Alexa feels about you, don’t you?”

Honest. Direct. And to the point. I feel somewhat apprehensive about the direction of this conversation, but Raven is slowly starting to be upfront with me. She deserves the same.

“I guess,” I give her an unsettled admission.

“Yet, you asked her to invest so I can start my own business. You had her promote my designs to her contacts. Don’t you think it was a little insensitive towards her feelings?”

I blink.

I have no idea how to take this.

“She didn’t play it cool,” Raven explains. “New York is filled with talented people who are looking for investors. Alexa hasn't seen me in years but within five minutes jumped on the bandwagon to invest in me. It was easy to put two and two together.”

Raven is talented. Extremely talented. Even when she was younger, I used to stare at her designs and wonder how she came up with something so creative.

Over the years, she was only active on social media to post outfits she designed. I saw every single one of her posts. Seeing them made me feel connected to her.

But talent like hers often becomes unpaid talent. Venturing out without the proper capital and marketing is the reason why most small businesses fail.

Through Alexa’s contacts, Raven’s business is already thriving with multiple dress orders in tow. Alexa’s rich friends have no problem ordering through Alexa’s new company instead of whoever they previously used. The credit goes to Raven’s talent, but that talent needed financial backing and promoted to the right clientele, by the right marketer.

Raven wouldn’t take my money but she trusts Alexa; who has both the money and the contacts. I had offered Alexa the money to pass on to Raven, but she insisted on personally investing. I wasn’t lying about Raven’s work. Alexa knew it would be stupid to pass on her.

It probably doesn’t raise my standing on the moral scale to ask a woman, who is half in love with me, to invest in Raven. But Alexa knows how to differentiate between personal and professional feelings.

There is no point in condescending Raven’s intellect by denying the allegations. “As you mentioned, Alexa has the right contacts. And doing this by yourself would have been tough,” I offer. Instead of guessing what Raven is thinking, I decide to be direct. “Are you upset this was my idea or are you upset because I asked Alexa to help you?”

Raven frowns. “I am not upset at either. You like to fix things and take care of people. That’s who you are. I trust Alexa and I like working with her. I guess I don’t understand why you kept arguing with me to take your money if this was your idea.”

I slowly rise. Now that we have both finished eating, I collect our trash and clean the table. I feel fucking irritated so I want to exert energy by keeping my body in motion.

“Because I asked you to take my money multiple times. You refused and seemed more comfortable taking someone else’s money.”

“Milo, at that time—”

“Look Rave, as you pointed out, I didn’t have a problem hurting one of my best friends if it meant helping you achieve something better. That’s how little other women mean to me. That’s how quick I am to sacrifice everyone and everything for you. So, it just sucks when you pick other people over me, okay?”

Raven looks stumped. She stares at me as if she doesn’t have a single coherent thought. Neither of us utter another syllable as we tidy up.

“Thank you,” she finally says quietly. “Not for hurting your friend’s feelings,” she quickly adds to clarify. “But for helping me achieve something better.”

I stare at her, surprised by her admission. It takes me more than a few minutes to regain my composure after the turnaround in the conversation.

“At that time when you had offered me money, it made me uncomfortable to accept it because of our history,” Raven says softly. “But things have changed between us. We have both acknowledged it. Presently, I would much rather have you as my business partner if I hadn’t already made a commitment to Alexa.”

“Okay.” I give her a nod, suddenly not feeling so irritated anymore. “I get it.” I give her my own quick admission in return.

Raven seems like she is having the same thought as I am. “Where were these problem solving skills of ours when we were younger?”

“I guess that’s why we had to grow up and meet again.”

“I guess so.” She smiles sweetly and kneels next to the mannequin to pin the dress she is working on. “I should get back to this.”

I give her another nod, and lean over to kiss her on the cheek. “Good night,” I whisper against her skin.

“Good night,” she breathes out, but I don’t move back.

I hover over her skin for the longest time. Her warm, inviting skin. Smell of Vanilla. Some lavender mixed in with it. There is no way I can pull myself away.

It’s the closest I have been to her in weeks. My breathing is accelerating and hers is too. It takes every ounce of my self control to move out of her bubble after almost an eternity has passed.

But I shouldn’t have done it.

I shouldn’t have invaded her space so intimately without notice. Right as I pull away, I see the repercussion of my actions.

Raven caught herself so quickly that I had almost missed it. But I am not allowed to point it out right now; not until she is ready to talk about it.

Raven is still holding the sharp fucking pin, but now it’s lodged inside her fucking forearm. She pierced her skin and dug the pin all the way inside.

CHAPTER 8

-----------

Raven

The staircases leading to the split-level are made in imperial style. No, not like the grand double staircases at fancy hotels. It’s just two flights of walled-off stairs, going in each direction.

Both staircases lead to a foyer type area. This is where Milo set up his home office. Four desks, office chairs, computers, phones, etc., are all set up here.

If you take a left at the bottom of the stairs, you will find a door that leads to the large, open main area. This is where we used to throw parties back in the day.

If you take a right at the bottom of the stairs, you’ll find a door that leads to a small apartment. This area was previously rented out, and currently Milo’s business partners are staying in that apartment.

I am standing by these very staircases, trying to decide if I should make my descent downstairs. It feels like I am interrupting Milo and his business partners at their work.

After weeks of eating every meal together, I have formed a habit where I forget to eat unless Milo and I are together. Which is why it’s weird that Milo chose not to come by today.

I have been working in the study as usual. At five p.m. I realized that Milo forgot about lunch. Chalking it off as an oversight, I grabbed a couple of power bars and went back to work.

When it hit ten p.m, I realized that Milo never came by for dinner either. Before heading back to my room, I decided to check on him in the split-level.

Unsure of the proper etiquette for home-office protocol, I hesitate at the top of the stairs. My decision to take the stairs is made up by the time I hear Alexa’s voice.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I am surprised to find a lively room at ten p.m. No one notices my arrival as all four desks are facing away from the staircase. My focus zeroes in on only one of the four desks.

Milo is sitting on his desk chair, and Alexa is standing next to him, leaning over his desk to show him some paperwork. The exchange is friendly enough. I have seen them work in close proximity. But this scene is hitting a little too close.

He forgot to visit me today because he was engrossed in Alexa.

I try to shake away my irrational thoughts. Right as I am about to turn away I see Alexa moving her hand to take Milo in a one-handed hug, pressing her breasts against his body.

What.

The.

Fuck.

My mind is spiraling from the scene in front of me.

I want to gouge someone’s eyes out.

I want to rip out someone’s hair.

I want to claw the shit out of someone.

And Alexa seems like a good enough target for all of those things.

Before I can react, I hear Brandon’s booming voice. “Raven, we missed you!”

Both Milo and Alexa turn around simultaneously, but I don’t get to see their reactions. Brandon picks me up in a one-handed bear hug and twirls me around.

“Whoa!” I squeal in surprise. “Nice to see you too, Brandon.”

I am still levitating in the air when I feel two strong hands gripping my waist and yanking me out of Brandon’s grasp. My back hits a hard chest.

I turn my face to find Milo hovering over me, but his glare is steadfast on Brandon, while mine drifts back to Alexa.

“Tell me Brandon, would you rather finish your workday and sleep peacefully in a warm bed, or have me drag you outside so you can sleep in the cold?”

“I come in peace,” Brandon smiles at Milo and makes peace signs with both of his hands.

Alexa gives me a sad smile as she watches Milo holding me tightly to his chest. I immediately feel horrendous, knowing I am the reason for that look on her face.

For all intents and purposes, this is Alexa’s office and home for the next few weeks. It should be her sanctuary, her haven. I shouldn’t have come here and made her feel bad.

Alexa has feelings for Milo, but she can’t control her feelings. She can only control her actions, which she does. She has never been rude, nor has she ever mistreated me, despite knowing of Milo’s not so little “crush” on me.

I try to push Milo off, but his hold tightens, like an automatic learned response.

“Stop being so touchy, M,” Brandon teases again.

“It’s been a shitty fucking day. Don’t test me.”

“I was just excited to see Raven,” Brandon gives him another cheeky response.

“Be less fucking excited,” Milo says it with his calm voice and stoic eyes. It's a look on him that always drops my stomach to the ground.

I push against Milo’s chest again, and this time he does let go. “I came by to say hello. I didn’t realize you guys were so busy.”

“Shit hit the fan today,” Jaci twirls in her revolving chair, her headset sitting on her ears.

“Yeah, it’s been insane. Milo locked us up in this basement,” Brandon pouts. “I haven’t seen the sun at all. Tell me, Rave. Do people still laugh out there?”

Despite myself, I let out a giggle. Milo narrows his eyes at me and entwines our fingers.

“For fuck’s sake, Brandon,” he barks. “You are a part-owner of a company that’s falling apart. Act like it.” Milo turns to the girls next. “I’ll be back later to go through the rest of it.”

“See you guys,” Brandon waves.

I wave to everyone, but Jaci is already back on a call. Alexa only slightly lifts her hand.

Milo walks us out of the split-level apartment, and within minutes we are at the top of the stairs, with Milo opening the door to the main house.

As soon as he closes the door, I turn to him. “What’s going on at work?”

“Why are you asking me that?” he frowns. “I already told you everything over text.”

“Text?” I slap my temple. It never crossed my mind to text him. Milo and I barely ever text each other. Why would we? We live in the same damn house. “Shit. I left my phone in my room. I get too distracted by it when I work.”

“As Jaci said, shit hit the fan. I left the house early today and just got back from the office. It was hell getting inside, but I had to. Our servers went down today.”

I finally take in Milo’s tired eyes and unshaven face. “Is everything okay?” I ask in a low voice, feeling genuinely concerned after taking in his tired state.

“We are working on it,” he sighs. “But it will have to be an all-nighter.”

All-nighter with Alexa?

She is his business partner, so obviously she is going to be there. Alexa is also one of Milo’s best friends. His beautiful, non-toxic friend. He will be confined with her in close quarters all night long. The thought is much more depressing than I could have ever imagined.

“Rave?”

“Oh, sorry.” I didn’t even hear his question. “What’s up?”

“I asked if you have eaten yet?”

“No, I haven’t eaten.”

“Pizza?”

“That sounds great,” I try to snap out of it. “I’m starving.”

“Cool. There is a place a few blocks away that serves takeout. It should still be open.”

“Sounds good,” I give Milo a nod before following him out.

-----------

Milo

Raven has been unusually quiet tonight. We grabbed a couple slices of pizza from a local takeout and decided to eat it on our walk home. Now that her hand is free, my eyes keep flickering to it. I am about to reach for it when she crosses her arms over her chest.

She is walking next to me, but she is lost in her mind. This is backward momentum.  I have to bring out the big guns to keep her engaged.

I sigh, already hating the conversation topic I am about to propose. “Do you still want to know about my sexual history?”

“How many women have you been with?” Raven asks before I even formulate the question to a completion. She didn’t miss a single beat, as if she had been waiting for that opening.

I smile at her reflex. Locked, loaded, and ready to shoot. That’s my quick-witted girl. “I expected something more creative, Rave,” I tease, hoping to avoid the question.

“Don’t you worry, I am just getting started,” she retorts. “So, how many?”

Ugh. This is why I hate talking about my sexual history. I specifically never discussed it so it wouldn’t get back to Raven. I never wanted her to find out. She is not going to like any of my answers.

“I lost count a long time ago,” I hold my breath for her reaction.

“How long ago?”

“When I was sixteen.”

Raven pauses but shakes it away casually, not letting me see how it affects her.

She fires the next question, “And how old were you when you lost your virginity?”

“Thirteen.” I am too embarrassed to make eye contact with her, so I stare straight ahead.

“Jesus!” Raven fails to keep the nonchalance out of her voice this time.

I visibly wince. “Absentee parents and fast city kids,” I mumble under my breath.

Fuck. Is she going to be repulsed by all of these answers? It only gets worse.

As if noticing my misery, Raven tries to ease the tension. She asks a creative question, as promised.  “Have you ever slept with a man?”

“No, Raven. I haven’t,” I patiently respond. No, thank you. For all of my experience, it’s always been strictly pussy for me. Specifically, hers.

“Ever kissed a man?”

“No, Raven,” I give her another exasperated look.

“Have you ever had anal sex?”

I pause. “Yes.”

“Were you the pitcher or catcher?” Raven asks in an amused tone.

My lips twitch slightly. She is enjoying this a little too much, but I feel unruffled by this line of questioning.

I slowly reach for one of her hands that she has crossed over her chest to untangle it. If she plans to be ridiculous, then she can hold my hand in exchange.

“What do you think?”

Raven turns to study my face. “Catcher for sure.”

Sometimes, I can’t get enough of all the fucking shit this girl spews out. There is nothing like it in the world. I love it when she tries to fuck with me like this.

“Whatever you say, Rave.”

“Have you ever had a threesome?” Raven doesn’t even so much as take a breath.

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“It was the same as sex.” I shrug. “Just add voyeurism and some waiting around time.”

“Would you do it again?”

“No,” I respond curtly. I narrow my eyes at the picture she is drawing in my head.

“Why not?”

“Because the thought of sharing you makes me want to murder the person, boy or girl.”

“I didn’t suggest a threesome with me,” she deadpans. “It was a hypothetical question.”

“Okay. Hypothetically, the thought of sharing you makes me want to murder the person, boy or girl. I don’t even like to think of someone else touching you.”

“We are not even talking about me,” Raven quips.

“If it has to do with questions about my sexual future, we are talking about you.”

Neither of us remark on the comment, but I tighten my grip on her hand on instinct.

Ever since that day when I stopped after she asked me to, the wheels have turned in Raven's head. A gradual and natural progression of our relationship has taken place.

Raven needed assurance that this is not just about the physical aspect. She needed proof that there can be more between us. I have been giving her that.

Something has been brewing between us for the last few weeks, and not just the shit I have been telling our families behind Raven's back.

Raven has been acting like a different person around me. Her feelings have changed. She is softer. More vulnerable. More open.

We eat every fucking meal together. She doesn't protest anymore when I hold her hand during that time. She doesn't protest when I pull her to my chest while we watch movies or shows. We act like we are together, both in front of our families and in private.

I think the word is "courting" or some other old ass outdated version of dating.

I have never done this shit before. If it was anyone other than Raven, I never would have done it either.

There are no labels and there is no physical aspect to it, but we are somehow together.

So, I need some answers of my own to find out the progression of our relationship, and where she is mentally. “Do I get to ask you a question as well?”

“I guess that’s fair,” she responds mildly. “But are you sure you want to ask about my sexual past. You mentioned your jealousy—”

I grind my teeth, even though I put on a smile for her. “No, Rave. I don’t want to know about your conquests in Paris. I’d have to kill the fuckers if you told me.” I wish I was kidding.

Raven ignores the statement completely. “What would you like to know?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Raven stops in her tracks to stare at me. She blinks a few times as if trying to wake herself up. She resumes walking without pulling her hand away.

“Yes,” she answers curtly, without offering any more information or explanation.

I want to ask the dreaded follow-up question, but I choose not to. If the answer is anything different from the one I want, the repercussions will be too massive to recover for either of us. I just clench and unclench my jaw, hoping that it’s not him.

Instead, I say, “What else would you like to know about my past sex life?”

“You never used to talk dirty, but I noticed that you did it the last few times...”

“I didn’t think back then was the right time to incorporate dirty talk into our sex life.”

“Why not?” Raven challenges.

“Because you were young and shy.”

“Did you talk dirty to Alexa?” The words spill out of her so fast that it even surprises her.

I stop short at the sudden mention. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you are jealous,” I gauge in a low voice. Raven has never expressed jealousy or possessiveness before.

“Jealous?” Raven sounds surprised.

“It’s okay if you are.” I truly mean it. I look over to find Raven frowning, unsure on how to react to her own feelings. “Why do you want to know about what happened between us?”

“Because I am curious about the extent of your relationship with her,” she speaks in her matter of fact tone. “And I’d like to have a better understanding of your past.”

I have always known that Raven doesn’t throw tantrums because she is slow to react. But that doesn’t mean she won’t react. It just takes her longer to process.

So, I feel cautious about giving in to her request. “How imperative is it for me to answer this?”

“How imperative is it for me to trust you?” Raven retorts.

“Yes,” my response is almost immediate. “I spoke dirty to Alexa.”

Raven gives me a curt nod. “Thank you for being honest.”

I gave in, but I don’t know of her ability to process. She is so fucking stunted sometimes.

It’s like watching a child take their “emotional” first steps as they learn to walk in a new realm that they recently discovered. “Rave, are you jealous of Alexa?”

“Yes,” her response is quick and definite. Then she adds, “Yes, I believe I am.”

I am quiet for a few moments. “You know, I wouldn’t be able to deal with it if the situation were reversed.” I am jealous when someone even breathes near her. “If you are uncomfortable with Alexa—”

“Milo, stop,” Raven cuts me off. She looks up at me with a frown tugging at her lips. “I’d never come in between your friendship.”

Of course, she wouldn’t. Compassion and empathy run deep inside her. Raven always tries to understand everyone else’s perspective. Even after everything I have done, she is still trying to understand me instead of writing me off.

Without making things more awkward or dwelling on the past, she shoots off her next question. “Have you ever had any STDs?”

“No.” I take out my house key as we approach our front door.

“When was the last time you took an STD test?” she asks curiously.

I contemplate for a moment as I mull the answer over. “Four years ago.”

“What!” Raven exclaims. “Four years is a long time. How do you know you’re clean?”

I know the thoughts that are running through that pretty little analytical head of hers. I start laughing at how she is cringing. “Trust me, Rave. I’m clean.”

“Even if you use a condom, they can break,” she protests my rationality. “Everyone thinks they are invincible until they are not.”

“I don’t think I am invincible.”

“Then why won’t you entertain the possibility that you might have an STD?”

“Because there has only been one person in the last five years, unless you have an STD that you’d like to report. However, I already know that you don’t. A copy of your last physical was lying around while your dad was treating you. I might have peeked at it.”

Raven freezes right as I turn the lock to the main door, surprised by my revelation. Actually, surprised might not be the right word. Shocked. Speechless. Stunned.

I hold the door open for her. She hesitates before stepping inside, quietly processing the words while crossing the threshold into the living room.

I have to go back to the split-level, but I walk Raven up the stairs to her room.

“F-four years? I-I… how do you expect me to believe that? I mean… how did you even remember how to do it—”

I tilt my head towards her with a cocky grin. “It’s just like riding a bicycle.”

Raven still looks shocked with her mouth wide open. She suddenly blurts out, “You must have jacked off all the time.”

My chest rumbles with laughter at her cute little face. Oh, I did. All the fucking time, and to a very specific dark haired girl.

“I mean… I don’t understand. Why did you go so long? Nothing was even going on between us…” she wavers off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

I lift a bored shoulder at the thought. “I have already had all the experience in the world. Friends with benefits. Casual dating. No matter what I did, it was always an empty fuck. Once we got together I realized exactly how empty those fucks really were. Sex simply felt hollow.”

Raven is quiet for so long that I open my mouth to follow up my comment. I stop when she speaks in a near inaudible voice. “Was it really never about sex?”

The words jolt me. I stay frozen and stare back.

Raven really is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She is also the most creative person I have ever met. How she thinks, observes, her perspectives; it’s unlike anyone. The aura of her talented mind always leaves me wanting more. No matter how close I get, it’s never enough.

I love all of those things about her, but none of those qualities are the reason why I crave her the way I do. The reason I crave her with this insatiable appetite is because of the way she loves.

Raven has this rare ability to love unconditionally. It doesn’t matter if it’s the friendship love, the romantic kind, or familial love. When she loves someone, it’s a one way street. She loves with all of her heart.

Raven's love is not dramatic. It’s not grand like mine. It’s not loud. It’s unexpressed, in the background. Yet, it’s felt so vividly it will shake you to your core.

Raven’s love is the quiet everyday kind of love, during the most honest moments in life.

It’s easy to miss unless you are paying close attention. I have been paying close attention.

Whenever I pull an all-nighter, somehow my room is clean upon return and my laundry is done. I don’t have to catch her in the act to know that it’s her.

She talks to my dad. She suggests things like downsizing from this mansion of a home for something for modest. She “volunteers” to help him with his budget sheet to skim expenses. Suddenly the bills I am paying for next month are lower than last month.

Whenever she is in the vicinity, my to-do list is significantly smaller. She peeks into my calendar to make a mental note of my remaining to-do items, and simply takes care of them.

Even things that I don't take care of, but stresses me out, Raven takes care of it for me. She calls the doctor daily to provide updates on Tessa. Even though Raven is a shit cook, she brings food for Tessa, Dad and Mia because they always forget to eat.

I have never once asked her to do any of it, nor has she ever taken credit.  This is exactly what she has always done for me. It's what made me fall for her in the first place.

Everyone thinks I am the caretaker, Raven included. But Raven is just as big of a caretaker, she simply doesn't express it the same way I do.

Whenever she is around I am automatically calmer because she takes care of me. I need her in the most intregal sense of that word because there has only ever been one person in this world who has ever shared my burden.

Raven even put her only prized possession in this world up for sale. She might be broke, but being from the fashion industry she has collected a vast “designer inventory” over the last eight years.

Theressa insists on the importance of dressing well to break into the fashion world. She has it drilled into Raven’s brain that no one will take her seriously if her own style does not reflect impeccable taste.

Vis-a-vis, that collection represents Raven’s dreams. No matter what has happened in life, she has never once parted with her designer collection.

However, a few days ago, Uncle John told me he didn’t need a loan anymore because Raven insisted on giving it to them.

I snooped around to find out how she is able to provide them with this loan. I found notifications in her email account for various sales listings, including all of her beloved red bottom shoes. Her vintage Chanel purses were each valued at five thousand dollars. Raven’s parents' bank account was listed as the deposit source for all of the payments. It wouldn't be as big of a loan as I planned to give them, but it would have been enough to get them started.

I took down the listings immediately, and wire transferred the loan to Uncle John. If I didn’t snoop, I would have never known and Raven would have never boasted about it.

It’s a good thing that I occasionally hack into Raven’s email account to look for any correspondences with Reid.

Why do I do these things?

Because I don’t know how to love the way she does. She did all of those things, even suppressed her jealousy of Alexa, so my life wouldn’t be more stressful. I would happily make her life stressful if it meant no other men would come near her ever again.

A client of mine often talks about a private island he visits for vacation. The island only has one mansion, and two staff members who sail in daily to cook and clean. The first thought that came to my mind when he told me was to fly to Paris, kidnap Raven, and take her to that island. She would hate it but that’s my fucking love language; stealing her so only I can have her.

But not Raven. She is secure in how she loves.

It took me this long to understand something I should have seen years ago. This understanding is allowing me to stay on my current path.

It's a path I have always wanted to take when it comes to Raven, but I have failed to follow through.

However, for the first time I am able to stay the course because I finally understand the following: Raven knows how to love silently while the rest of us yell and scream to make the other person aware.

Raven loves in a profound way. She doesn’t verbally express her feelings. She doesn’t have to because her actions truly speak louder.

The thing is, Raven also craves that same type of love. It’s her biggest weakness.

She needs to know that she can be loved despite any lackings. She needs to know that I can love her even without the physical aspect. That’s where I have failed her.

Given my actions and our history, I am not sure how I can ever convince her that it was never just about sex. She doesn’t believe me and rightfully so.

I still have to try. “I know you don’t believe that it wasn’t just about sex,” I respond in a muted voice. “My actions never reflected the depth of my feelings. I never meant to hurt you…” I trail off when I see the look on her face.

Raven is still looking at me in disbelief, unsure how to process all of this. However, now there is something else behind that look of hers. One that has stolen my voice and my words.

-----------

Raven

“My actions never reflected the depth of my feelings. I never meant to hurt you…” Milo's voice trails off.

“I know you weren't trying to hurt me," I admit.

I have always known that Milo's intention was never to hurt me. We spinned out of control, and neither of us have any idea how to come back from what happened.

"What you just said... It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever…I can’t verbalize what it means to me...” I start and stop three sentences. I finally take a deep breath, collect myself, and try again. “That’s the most beautiful sentiment you have ever expressed to me. It’s the second time you have defined the word perfection, and I don’t even believe in perfection.”

Milo is the same age as I am right now when we started sleeping together. At this stage of my life I can navigate a relationship with someone like him.

There are things I understand now that I didn’t understand as a teenager. I received that clarity after gaining some life experience. Now if I date someone, I am much more forward about what I need.

Back then, I looked up to Milo, but I never thought someone like him could want me. He was every teen girl's wet dream. He still is.

I didn’t know where I stood, nor did I dare ask. Milo never even communicated if he stopped fucking other people, let alone share anything this profound.

These are the types of words that alleviate the self esteem problems of an insecure teenager with abandonment issues.

Did he not understand that?

I am staring at him. I can’t stop because this, what he is saying now, is how I have always wanted to be loved. I wanted to be loved despite his need for physical contact.

Up until only a few weeks ago his main focus has always been sex and animalistic lust. Milo told me that he only stopped because our last encounter freaked him out. He wouldn’t have stopped otherwise.

Given his own admission, I hope he understands just how hard I am trying to believe these words. If the sincerity is there, then these words change everything.

Every. Single. Thing.

Because he is right. Everyone else is an empty fuck in comparison to what we had. Not just sex.

The whole package was always empty. Sex, dating, relationship. It has always felt less and missing, which is exactly why I am trying so hard right now despite the fact that Milo scares the shit out of me at times.

I am trying because it’s his love that makes me.

I am trying despite his lust that breaks me.

-----------

Milo

I am staring at Raven but she started it.

I can’t utter a word. Not when she is looking at me in the way that’s a little too familiar. Raven is looking at me how she used to. A look that incites every emotion in me. I have been craving that look for years. There is nothing else like it in the world. It’s a high of its own.

She is doing that thing where she cuts me open to see me in the rawest of forms; looking through my fucked-up soul, or lack thereof. Or maybe my soul has been finally restored now that she is back.

I can’t look away. I am watching her, watch me. It’s like she can see that I am filled to the brim with flaws, but despite that I am still her:

Whole.

Damn.

World.

-----------

Raven

What the fuck is happening? Why are we just dumbfoundedly staring at each other?

I can’t even breathe under this intensity. I am in some sort of fog where all I can see is him.

For days, all I have been able to see is him. Even with even ten people living in this house it feels like we are the only two people, not only in this house but on the whole damn planet. It's like he is my:

Whole.

Fucking.

World.

Fuck. Me. When did this happen?

-----------

Milo

The sudden shift in energy is palpable in the air. Raven’s breathing pattern is different. My own heart is pounding in my chest.

Raven is nervously fidgeting by her door, looking at me with that look that’s about to burst my ribcage open. She is… waiting. It’s the universal end of the night kiss me sign.

This is the first time Raven is giving me an opening. I want this more than I want oxygen but my sight has to remain on the end goal; Raven’s unconditional love. That’s what I have always craved. To be that loved by another human being who doesn’t need acknowledgment of their devotion. It’s intoxicating.

For the longest time I thought I had it. The moment I realized that I didn’t, I lost it.

I have been trying to reach it ever since, but it has always stayed right out of the cusp of my fingertips where I can’t ever get to it.

Now that it’s so fucking close again, I can’t risk losing it forever due to a momentary relapse.

I have been doing a lot of research on trauma and the after-affects of it. Her shaking, her shuddering, her sudden reactive responses, all indicates trauma.

Despite all of the therapists I have spoken to so far, it’s clear that there isn’t much I can do unless she agrees to talk about it. It has to be her choice, and Raven refuses to divulge any more information on the topic.

My guess? This is about the night before she left for Paris.

Raven doesn’t believe me when I tell her that I love her, but she never once questioned Reid or Mia’s devotion. Raven would have never given up their unconditional love, the thing she desires most in this world, unless it was truly her tipping point.

Something shut down in Raven that night, especially in the way she looks at me. It has been different ever since that night.

Even now, Raven is looking at me with lust, but it’s still mixed with anxiety. It’s an automatic response to someone who subconsciously terrifies her.

At times, she is fine in my company. She is okay with me touching her and holding her hand. She cuddles up on my chest when we are close.

At other times, I am walking on eggshells due to her absentminded reactions.

I force her to eat every meal with me, but her weight loss has been noticed by even our most distracted family members. They have also noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

The nightmares, the lack of sleep, the sudden reflexes, it’s all slowly getting out of control. Twice, I took away needles while she was distractedly digging it into her fingers because I reached for her too abruptly.

There is no fucking road map for this. No way to navigate through her mind. No way to know what could set her off, except watching for her body language and assuring her that I am not a threat to her anymore. We simply need more time so she can trust me again.

“It was never just sex,” I repeat to drill it into her brain. “It was about our connection. After experiencing the real deal, the idea of anything less felt empty. Just the thought of someone else left me feeling dissatisfied, craving for something better.”

Raven might be giving me the signal, but her apprehension remains. If I follow her into her bedroom, it will be a momentary relapse. It won't be worth the consequences if she reacts poorly.

Instead of letting this lust-fuck moment continue and get out of control, I cut the tension playfully. “It’s like being asked to be on a vegetarian diet when you are a strict carnivore.”

Raven laughs out loud, breaking our staring contest and the tension pulsing through the air.

She uses her own playful face. “Are you saying that I am a piece of meat?”

My face is about to split open from the grin I am wearing. “You are Wagyu meat,” I simply confirm, hiding any amusement. “When you are used to having Kobe beef and then asked to eat grass, the space fillers don’t actually satiate. It leaves you feeling hungrier.”

“Oh my God. Stop comparing me to food. I’m getting hungry again.”

I chuckle and change the topic. “Fine. Are we still on for tomorrow?”

The small frown on Raven’s forehead displays her surprise that I am ending the night so abruptly. “Yes,” she says awkwardly with a forced smile. “We can go whenever you wake up.”

“Okay,” I give her a nod. “Good night then.”

“Good night,” Raven nods but stands around for a minute longer. She looks unsure if I am making a move or not. I back away first with a wave of my hand.

Cue the most awkward goodnight we have shared in weeks.

CHAPTER 9

-----------

Milo

Uncle John has been encouraging Raven to go on long walks to improve her range of motion. Her physical recovery has been extremely slow, and somewhat painful.

For today’s walk, we are at a trail close to my condo. The walk is quiet. This is the most silent we have been in each other’s company in weeks.

Raven and I have always shared a palpable sexual tension. But ever since last night, neither of us have been able to ignore the magnitude of that sexual tension.

Last night, she looked at me in the way that leaves no holds barred. And right now, I can’t look at her or even talk to her. Every time I do, I just want to corner her and start fucking her.

This is so irritating. My reaction towards her is still fucking teenage bullshit, like how I used to feel when I was sixteen years old.

How can someone affect me to this extent?

As we reach the last stretch of the forty-five minute walk, I see possible signs of inflammation flaring up on Raven’s leg, so I cut the walk short.

A quick video call with Uncle John verifies my own recommendation; resting her leg until the inflammation goes down.

We make our way to my condo. Luckily, I have pain medication there and neither of us are working, in case she needs to be on bed rest today.

The last time we came to my condo, Raven was comfortable opening up without the presence of our families. It might actually be a good opportunity to talk about last night.

However, I did not take into account that Raven also relies on the presence of our families for the security that she seeks, and does not receive from me.

Ever since we have arrived, it has clearly settled in with Raven that she is injured, alone, on a bed, and in an enclosed space with her predator. Her panic is evident. The signs are all there. The slight sweat that’s trickling around her forehead despite the fact that it’s cold. Her random shaking. The shortness of breath.

I watch her lie flat on my bed with her leg propped up on a pillow. Her legs are parted and she looks vulnerable as fuck. Ready for the taking.

The last thing I can focus on is her panic. Instead, in the true form of her predator, I am only focused on how long it’s been since I have been inside her.

Forty fucking days. I can go four years without sex. But forty fucking days while she is actively in my presence is impossible.

I have lasted this long because of the horror that flickered in her eyes the last time we were together. I need to remind myself of that and take a cold fucking shower.

I turn to Raven. “I am going to take a shower. In the meanwhile, I’d love your input on decorating this place.” My condo is bare with minimum furnishing. It's so bare that it's not even liveable.

“What would you like me to do?” Raven asks mildly.

I hand Raven a color swatch book. “Why don’t you pick a paint color? I already own the eggshell, white, and off-white paint buckets. Circle the one you like best.”

Raven is clueless on home decor. I bet she’d just stare at the swatches, trying to differentiate between eggshell, white, and off-white.

I leave her to it, and head to the bathroom. By the time I come out of the shower, Raven is under the covers. I am careful not to even look her way.

-----------

Raven

Milo hands me a big book of color swatches, asking me to choose between the eggshell, the white, and the off-white.

Honestly, I can't differentiate between the three. Paint colors are different than the color swatches fashion designers work with. All three swatches looks white to me. Nonetheless, I try my best and choose one.

Ever since last night, something has shifted in my dynamic with Milo. His words of admission were magical. I was beyond touched.

Now, everything feels more intimate. Sexual tension is in the air.

However, Milo has barely spoken a word to me or even looked my way. We have been hanging out for weeks, joking around, digging up nostalgia. Things were starting to feel normal between us.

Now, it’s unbearably awkward.

I tried our usual jokes. I tried regular conversation. It was all met with a grunt, silence, and even less eye contact. I have no idea how to make things natural between us again.

The anti-inflammatory and the pain medication Milo gave me is not helping the case either. The after-effects of the pills on an empty stomach is causing enough dizziness to pull the covers over myself, but it’s not causing enough dizziness to blur the current visual in front of me.

Milo walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist. The covers are over my face, but I can see his slightly wet body striding into the room through the opening.

This is the most naked I have seen him in years.

Yes, years.

Every time we have had sex since I came back, he was too busy restraining me, and I was too busy fighting him off to take in his body. Now, there is no confusion.

I can see his solid back as he rummages through his closet. My eyes trail his broad shoulders, his biceps, and the contours of his back, all of which seem larger than life.

He is more than ripped.

Milo is staring at his closet in seeming frustration. I don’t believe he keeps clothing in this condo. He is presumably making the same observation as he grabs the only available change of outfit, a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans.

Milo throws his sweat-soaked clothes from the hike into his hamper, and in a quick move removes the towel from around his waist.

My cheeks are probably turning million shades of crimson as I stare at his bare ass. I am such a perverted peeping Tom.

Milo puts on the pair of jeans, sans boxers or a shirt, before turning my way to catch my drift. I feel like a kid who just got caught with their hand inside the candy jar. I should stop staring, but now I am staring at his bare chest instead of his bare ass.

Look away, Raven.

I am basically gaping at this point. I can’t stop.

Did I forget to mention the washboard abs and the perfect V that I have never seen on another man?

Look away, idiot.

Milo doesn’t say anything. His expression remains unreadable, and he barely meets my eyes. He throws the flannel shirt and the used towel on the bed.

“I am running a bath for you,” he points towards the bathroom. “Uncle John said it will help to soak your leg in the water. I have a flannel shirt that you can wear till I run a load of wash for our dirty clothes.” He then gives me a sheepish look. “I only have one towel, sorry.”

“No worries,” I reply easily. “I don’t mind.”

“Do you need help getting into the tub?”

I slowly rise from the bed. “No, I got it.”

I make my way to the bathroom, and close the door to strip my clothes. Sinking into the hot water, I laugh over how I just shamelessly eye-fucked Milo.

Speaking of the devil, Milo opens the bathroom door. He doesn’t look my way. Wordlessly, he grabs my dirty clothes off the floor and walks out, shutting the door behind him.

He is washing my dirty underwear now?

Oh God. This is so uncomfortable.

I sink into the water and notice all the items Milo put out for me. Like the condo his bathroom is bare of products, but he lined up travel-size bath products along the edge of the tub. I assume he collected these through his travels. I smell each one and wonder where he traveled to procure them.

When I finish, I hobble out of the tub and wrap the towel around me. I am aware that I am surrounded by his smell. I am aware that this very towel was around his cock not too long ago.

I had hung my bra on the towel rack, and I am relieved to find that Milo didn’t take it for a wash. It’s one of those sweat resistant bras, even though I didn't sweat much during the walk.

After toweling off, I put on the bra along with Milo’s flannel shirt. At least, the shirt goes upto my thighs, and the bra makes me feel somewhat less naked while I have no underwear on.

I find Milo in the kitchen, unboxing some takeout which he presumably ordered while I was showering. He gives me a tight smile as I sit with him at the dining table.

He is still fucking shirtless, and I have no underwear on. Both of us are just hanging out half naked without a soul in sight. This big, empty condo is making that fact much more obvious.

This is unbearable!

I watch Milo’s expressionless face as we dig into our meals.

Look. At. Me. I silently yell in my head while he keeps his head down.

For the first time since I have known Milo, I feel invisible in his presence. I might as well be non-existent.

-----------

Milo

Torment.

Torture.

Temptation. Sweet fucking tempation.

I am doing everything in my power not to look at Raven. Not to look at her wet, naked body underneath my shirt that barely reaches past her pussy. Her pussy that currently has no underwear on because it’s in the damn washing machine.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Dad used to drag Mia and Reid to church every time he was off on a Sunday. He never bothered me with it because if he took the kids then it meant it was my day off. As a result, Mia and Reid believe in a higher power.

Raven and I were never interested in theology. It’s one of the things I find most attractive about her. She doesn’t need a higher power to control her destiny.

But the current situation might change my mind.

Is this the universe’s way of telling me that there in fact is a God, and he is currently punishing me for my sins and my Atheistic approach to life?

The amount of control this situation is requiring is more than ever before. This is the most skin Raven has shown in weeks, and the timing could not have been worse.

We are in an empty apartment. No fucking family members. No friends. No buffers. Everything is so sexual that it’s just maddening at this point.

And she is not helping the situation with her lusted-out looks. If I didn’t pick up on Raven’s other reactions, I would have fucked the living daylights out of her by now.

But I do see it. I come out of the bathroom to find Raven eye-fucking me. Yet, all of her trepidation still remains. The sudden chills. Her gulps. I bet her heartbeat is rapid too. Her body seems to be in constant fight or flight mode.

If she is so fucking terrified of me that she starts shaking as a reflex, then why the fuck is she looking at me that way? Does she not even realize the adverse affects I have on her?

This is insane.

It’s like the prey looking at the predator wantonly.

Every impulse in my body is screaming for my cock to be inside her already. I need to feel her pulsing around me. I need it so bad that everything is goddamn blurry and hazy at this point.

Ignoring these impulses till our clothes are washed and dry seems like an impossible task. I keep telling myself that I can control myself.

Of course, I can.

Maybe.

Probably not.

There is no one around. My own depraved thoughts are scaring me. How must she feel?

If anyone else ever did what I did to her, I would have killed them by now. It’s not a joke.

I went to Paris multiple times over the years to beat up the men she had slept with.

None of those men had forced her. It was her choice, but I still beat the shit out of them, convinced that no one else has the right to touch her whether it's her choice or not.

After all the shit that has happened between us, and despite Raven’s trauma that I caused myself, I still feel that she is mine. No one else is allowed to touch her, or even think about her.

Yes. I understand my hypocrisy. I just don't fucking care.

My eyes keep landing on the hem of my shirt that she is wearing, which is revealing too much of her legs. I trail my eyes to catch sight of her cleavage despite the damn bra she put on.

No one should be this enticing. She is the reason why the word temptation was created. Because that’s what she is, fucking temptation served on a platter. Hazel eyes. Perfect tits. Porcelain skin. A stupid shirt that barely reaches her thighs.

This is absurd.

It’s fucking torment to want something this much and not be able to act on it.

I need air.

I get up from my chair and walk barefoot to the terrace, without providing Raven with an explanation.

I don’t trust myself around her. The reality is I will probably lose control again at some point. I can’t be around her and not be with her in the way every instinct in my body craves.

No one has ever felt this way around a girl, nor should they. She is the only thing that makes me feel like a person. A real person with a real soul.

It's true.

She came back and she restored my soul. Every single thing I haven’t felt since she left, I felt again upon her return. It’s a change that has immediately been noticed by everyone in my vicinity.

Raven's warmth has once more filled our home. And it has also filled my body with a goddamn soul.

All of which just makes me want her more. It feels like fucking death will take over unless I can touch her.

I stay out on the terrace for as long as I can. When I finally come back inside, Raven is in my bedroom, on my fucking bed.

This torture never ends.

She is sitting at the edge of my bed, looking at the swatch book again.

My nostrils flare the moment her smell hits my senses. No matter how many times she showers, that smell never comes off her. It’s innate to her.

I am so fucked, and so is she.

-----------

Raven

Milo has been taking refuge in the terrace for what seems like hours. To keep myself occupied, I grab the color swatch book and try to examine the colors again. I have barely opened the page when I find Milo strolling back to the room.

He comes near me, then moves back and starts pacing the room like a maniac.

Neither of us have still spoken a damn word to the other. I can’t take it for a minute longer. I will just walk back to the Upper West Side on a handicapped leg.

It’s only what, two hours?

Worth it!

The less dramatic approach might be to simply call an Uber. I just can’t think straight while he is fucking shirtless. Why is he still shirtless?

I get it dude. You have a good body.

At this point, I am considering giving him my shirt to cover him up. The sight alone keeps riling me up. I am fucking soaked between my legs with no damn underwear on. When was the last time I felt this out of control? As a teenager? Jesus!

Milo stops pacing and turns to me. He has to know what I am thinking. It’s obvious with my cheeks heating up, and the rapid rise and fall of my chest. He hasn’t done a single thing but arousal around him has become an automated response now.

I am also aware of the lining in his jeans, with his cock about to burst out of it. We are both thinking the same fucking thing.

Do something!

How do you even facilitate this? This is not something you can Google. There isn’t a book called, Changing your relationship from non-consent to consent for Dummies.

Luckily, I don’t have to worry about it. Milo’s facial expression finally changes, as if he has come to a conclusion and that decision has lust written all over it.

In a pure Milo move, he doesn’t wait a second longer after making a decision.

He strolls closer, drops on the floor in front of me, grabs both of my thighs, and yanks them apart. His eyes are on me. Milo is watching… I think he is waiting for a reaction.

Am I supposed to give him a sign? They really should have a book about the step by step process.

I'd open my legs wider but his grip on my thighs is ironclad. Looking down at him I try to communicate that protests are nowhere near my thought process. In fact, a different thought is on my mind.

The tech-mogul, the all powerful CEO, Milo Sinclair is kneeling on the floor between my knees. The same man who is listed on Forbes 30 Under 30 as one of the thirty most impressive entrepreneurs under thirty years of age.

A man identified as one of the most impressive men in the world is shoving my shirt up, and staring at every inch of me as if his next breath is impossible without me. As if he is my willing slave.

Pride doesn’t begin to describe what I feel for him, but right now something more than pride for his success is rushing through me. It’s making me feel powerful and worshipped to know that everyone in our vicinity caters to this man while he only caters to me. The world kneels in front of this man and he willingly kneels for me. In fact, he treats it as a privilege.

I have no idea why I haven’t looked at him this way before, but it’s a turn-on like no other.

Milo leans in closer and starts with small kisses, gently teasing me. My mouth slightly parts. He picks up the pace, his tongue grinding against my clit. Then he starts licking me with manic hunger, as if he can’t live without this.

“Milo,” I pant, throwing my head back. My hands move all over his bare shoulders.

I start to moan when he runs his tongue along my inner lips. My breathing accelerates and I pull at his hair. “I need you inside me right fucking now.”

Milo looks up at me in shock. It was the last thing he expected to hear. I don't care. It feels like sure death if I can’t touch him, if I can't be with him.

Milo crawls up my body, kissing his way through as I lie back. He unbuttons the top two buttons of my shirt, slides the fabric and my bra to the side to expose my breast.

He takes one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. He ensures not to use his teeth to clamp down. He remembers everything about me.

Moving on up, he hovers over my face as we stare at each other for a heart-pounding second. He snakes one hand into my hair, the other wrapping around my waist. He slams his lips onto mine, and we both moan at the same time.

It’s a bruising kiss. It’s rough. It’s heady. It’s all tongue, lips, teeth.

We are kissing each other as if our lives depend on it, our harsh breaths filling the room. I haven’t kissed him like this in years.

I circle my hands around his neck to pull him even closer. I moan against his lips when Milo runs his fingers through my swollen core. Teasing me. Rubbing me. I feel his length pressed against my pussy, grinding against me.

“You are shaking,” he whispers and slightly pulls back.

“What?” I frown, confused by the sudden shift. “What are you talking about?”

“Baby, you are shuddering right now.” he says quietly. His eyes move all over my face.

I don’t realize that he is correct until I look at the hand resting on his biceps. My fingers are shaking. Looking down, so is my whole body. I am sweating.

None of it are signs of lust or a result of being turned on.

“You are scared of me,” he observes quietly. Milo looks... sad. Incredibly sad. Fuck.

“I sometimes shake when I am excited,” I say quickly.

Milo gives out a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You are a terrible liar.”

“It’s not intentional,” I try again.

“I know,” he whispers. “You are scared of me, Rave. We both know it. But if this is ever going to work, I need you to feel safe around me again.”

“Milo, I am not scared.”

“You are because I can physically overcome you. But you also scare the shit out of me. The physical control I can exercise is momentary, but the emotional control you exercise over me is not temporary. You can crush me with a wave of your hand, but I don’t think you understand that quite yet. Until you do,” he studies my face, then whispers, “let’s try something different.”

-----------

Milo

“Let’s try something different.”

Raven is patiently waiting to see what I am referring to.

“I want you so fucking much, but I first want to show you that can trust me again,” I murmur against her lips.

She is staring at me with wide-eyes. She gives me a nod, but her eyes are asking the same question we are both worried about, how.

I move back from the bed in an effort to show her what I mean. I sit on the floor, and lean against the wooden desk table. Undoing my jeans, I lift my hips up to pull them off.

Quietly, I watch Raven give my body a once over. The years without Raven left me… frustrated. I completely lost interest in sex. Correction. I was very interested in sex but with only one specific person.

It wasn’t hyperbole when I told her that she ruined me for other women.

I tried, but I couldn’t force an attraction that I didn’t feel, for a fuck that I didn’t want.

This means that most of my frustrations had to be taken out at the gym, in between my grueling work schedule.

I am aware of the female attention I receive, but there is only one female whose attention I’m interested in. From the looks of it, I don’t think she hates it.

“Take off the shirt, baby,” I breathe.

I am sitting a few feet away from the bed, leaning against the base of the table in hopes that the distance makes her feel safe, and her shaking will stop.

This is a crucial moment for us, to show her how things can be different. To show her that she is in control too.

Raven lifts the shirt above her head. It takes everything in my power to keep my stoic look in place. “The bra too,” my voice is barely above a whisper now.

Raven complies once more and without argument. I dig my palm into the floor to force myself to stay put as her perfect full tits spill out.

“Fuck,” I hear my own pained voice. I stare, enchanted by that sight.

She still looks like fucking Snow White, with her long lashes fanning her cheeks and her parted red lips. She is that fantasy that’s finally in the reach of my fingertips. I take in harsh breaths to control myself from pouncing on her.

Raven also looks mystified by the connection we share. My breathing is erratic, but I refuse to lose control of this situation. “Lean back. Open your legs wide.”

Raven doesn’t break our eye contact. Good girl. She leans back slightly and opens up. My mouth goes dry when I take in her naked, vulnerable body.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” my words are choppy from my ragged breathing.

“What?” Raven finally speaks, surprised by my request.

“Play with yourself,” I ask in a more demanding voice.

“Umm…” Raven hesitates. “I don’t really do that,” she admits in a small voice.

“Never?”

Raven shakes her head. I am surprised by her revelation, but I mask my shock. I don’t want her to feel self-conscious.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Do you know how many times I have jerked off thinking about you? My dick twitches if I even look at you. Do you know why?”

Raven is staring at me in awe, her eyes opening a little wider. She waits for me to answer my own question.

“Because when you are with someone your soul is connected to, the physical aspect heightens to an immeasurable amount,” I say hoarsely. “Palpable energy mixed with an array of emotions; that’s what it feels like when I am with you. There is nothing like it in the world. It’s fucking addicting, like drugs, even better than drugs.”

I notice the effect my words have on Raven. Her face flushes. I watch her pupils dilate. Her chest is still rising and falling heavily.

I know that she wants me, but she doesn’t know how to break through her barriers to get to someone she doesn't trust. She has to become unhinged to let herself go, but that’s not her style.

“You know how we work with investment bankers?” I ask.

Raven frowns at the irrelevant topic. Nonetheless, she gives me a nod.

“Believe it not, half the assholes are addicted to cocaine,” I scoff. “I pitied their lack of self-control when I realized that I am no better. I am fucking addicted to you like they are to their drugs. I didn’t know which one was worse. Physical addiction or mental addiction. So, I tried it.”

“Tried what?”

“I tried cocaine at one of our company parties.”

“What?” Raven sounds baffled, and rightfully so. “Don’t do it again,” she chides.

I laugh at her disapproval. “Trust me. It’s not my drug of choice.” And it’s not my style.

Raven frowns again, contemplating what other drugs I have tried and my drug of choice.

“You,” I answer the question she is about to ask. “A hit of cocaine doesn’t even come close to what it feels like being with you. You are a high that I am always chasing. I’m always looking for that next hit. I could be fucking you and still find myself already craving you, going through withdrawal. Those bankers have no fucking idea about addiction. They have an addiction they can get help for, an addiction that can end. My addiction will never end.”

“Being addicted is not a good thing,” she whispers.

“You’re right,” I smile sadly. “Everything should be done in moderation, which is what I have been trying to do for the last few weeks. I have been trying to moderate, take things slow, and control myself. Help me achieve that,” I grab my cock and give it a slow stroke. Raven’s eyes drop down to it. “I am trying, so we can be something better. So my addiction doesn't rule my actions.”

Raven gives me a firm understanding nod. She gets it. She gets what I am trying to do: build trust again.

“Move your hand down, baby. Don’t overthink it.”

Raven moves her hand down at a very slow pace.

“Use two fingers to make small circles. Yeah, just like that.”

I fix my gaze on Raven playing with herself. It’s even more erotic than I imagined. I start stroking myself. That sight of her is going to be the end of me.

My harsh breathing is starting to match hers. “Do you know what you do to me? Do you have any idea how much I want you?”

I start stroking myself harder. I pant, watching her heavy-lidded eyes fixed on me.

“Are you wet, Raven?”

Raven gives me another steady nod.

My head kicks back, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. My breathing becomes erratic. I bring my head back to stare at the beautiful wide-eyed girl. “Fuck. Rub your clit.”

Raven rubs her clit and immediately hisses. “Ahh…”

“That’s it, baby. Don’t stop,” I give her my own restrained growl.

Raven doesn’t back down and maintains eye contact.

“You are so beautiful,” I openly gawk at her, mystified. “Open your legs wider. I want to see that perfect pink pussy of yours.”

“Fuck,” Raven grinds her teeth.

“Move your other hand to your tit and pinch your nipple.”

Raven doesn’t need my instructions anymore. She is vigorously working herself, having found her own rhythm. I am distracted as fuck by her fingers that have picked up the pace.

While I am barely able to keep control, I want us to come together. I grip my dick tighter, sending her an onslaught of dirty talk to push her over the edge.

“You drive me fucking crazy. I just want to lock you up and fuck you for months. I want to pound your tight pussy so hard till you arch your back every goddamn time.”

“Oh God, Milo,” Raven moans in a low voice. I love watching the effect my words have on her. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes heat up.

“I want to lick that pussy of yours till you come on my mouth over and—”

My voice is cut off by Raven’s intensified moan as she starts to clench.

“I want to make you squirt, drenching my dick. Then I want you to do it again in my mouth while I eat you out.”

“I’m about to come,” Raven parts her lips to let out her whimpers.

“Fuck,” I come with my eyes fixated on her, my cum landing on my thighs and hand.

I lean back against the wooden desk. The room is filled with both of our panting. A hit of fucking ecstasy and she didn’t even have to touch me.

But I am not quite done with her yet. Raven is still coming down from her high when I slowly move towards her.

“Baby, I need you to try to relax.”

Raven nods at me frantically, panting heavily.

In less than a second I have her on her back again. It’s the moment of truth. Her orgasm high will hopefully divert her usual reaction.

I move Raven’s fingers, which are still lying dormant on her pussy and spread her legs wide open to bury my face between them, to finish what I started.

Raven sounds like she is about to pass out when I suck on her clit. She is overstimulated, and her fingers dig into my hair.

She calls out my name right as she comes hard on my mouth. Raven’s whole body shudders, but this time for a very different reason.

I sigh a relief and kiss the inside of her thigh.

After I clean myself up in the bathroom, I come back to find her in the same unmovable state. A smile tugs at my lips at her state.

She is adorable. I just want to inhale her. She is intoxicating, like a trap. Once you fall into it, you can never dig yourself out.

I collect her in my arms, and reposition us. Raven’s head automatically falls on my chest.

She peeks up at me. “Hi,” she says sheepishly.

“Hi,” I kiss the top of her head.

We are both quiet. There is only one question that I want to ask. It's the elephant in the room that neither of us have directly addressed.

“Will this bring about anxiety? What sets it off?” I whisper in her hair.

Raven tenses for a moment, then responds, “I‘m fine right now. Random things set it off.”

I nod against her and wait for her to expand on it. She does not. I keep stroking her hair, brushing some of it off her face.

-----------

Raven

I am still in a disheveled state. I can feel how hard my heart is thrumming.

I don’t know what Milo is talking about. I don’t feel dread. My lust is dominating over all of my other senses.

My eyes land on Milo’s semi-hard cock. We just finished but I shouldn’t be surprised. I am about to trail my hand down his stomach when Milo stands.

“Our clothes should be washed by now. I am going to throw them in the dryer.” He stands to move away from the bed.

“Wait,” I urgently whisper. “Don’t move.”

Before we do anything else, I need to show him that I am not scared. That we can move past… our past.

It’s just an adjustment period. It’s a situation that’s unique to our relationship. I doubt other normal couples are trying to navigate such tricky waters.

Milo frowns at my request but gives me a nod. I get on my legs, which are still shaking after the orgasm, and move closer towards him. I brush some of the hair off his forehead.

He still needs a damn haircut for his unruly hair. His handsome face is now sporting a five o’clock shadow, and his eyes are shining like the city of Oz as he quietly speculates, trying to figure me out.

Stroking his cheek, I move my hand down between us. Milo groans low in his throat when I wrap my fingers around the base of his dick.

I trail kisses down his torso, till my knees hit the floor. Giving him a slow lick first, I close my mouth over the tip of his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Milo growls, both of his hands flying out to fist my hair.

Bobbing my head, I start to suck him off harder. I quicken my pace while the onslaught of dirty words pouring out of Milo’s mouth has my cheeks heating up again.

“Your mouth feels so good.”

“I love looking at you with my cock filling your mouth.”

If he doesn't stop talking, I am going to come just from listening to his words.

“I love fucking your mouth.”

“Do it,” I whisper, while I lick his tip to taste him.

“Do what?” Milo freezes, once more confused by my peculiarity.

I stay on my knees but pull away from his dick completely. His hand almost shoots out to push my face back. He looks like he is about to lose his shit, but he stays put.

“I want you to fuck my mouth,” I clarify.

“What?” Milo asks again.

“Don’t ask again,” I say more confidently this time. “I want you to fuck my mouth, and it needs to be rough.”

Milo doesn’t ask me again, and I part my lips for him. He is watching me closely, trying to assess if this is a mental breakdown. He must decide that it’s not because his hand fists the back of my hair.

I open my mouth a little wider in anticipation. Milo steps closer and thrusts himself inside my mouth, but not quite as rough as I know he likes to be in this situation.

Milo forgot. He might not have divulged on his sexual conquests, but those women sure did.

I know how rough he likes this particular act from their accounts. Just like the dirty talk, he held back in the past because I was young and shy.

Yes, back then this might have freaked me out. However, now I can openly voice my sexual comfort level. I would never offer something in bed that I couldn’t handle, and I am aware of the importance of a physical connection for Milo.

We are finally on the same page, emotionally. It’s ironic that now it’s our physical connection that’s crippling us.

Our physical relationship has always been explosive; toxic at times, and dynamite during other moments. We have to find some sort of happy median that allows me to feel safe, and allows him to view me as his sexual partner.

What we have is too good to pass up due to ghosts from the past. I need to get over my fears, and he needs to stop treating me like a porcelain doll.

I am hell bound on this goal. Digging my nails into his ass, I thrust his hips forward, so his cock hits the back of my throat. I lift my eyes to look at him. His lust-filled eyes flare as he watches me stare at him with his dick in my mouth.

Milo is squirming, groaning like he can’t take it anymore. He is staring at me with an incredulous look on his face. We keep eye contact as I feel his dick throbbing in my mouth.

It turns into a frenzy.

Milo starts thrusting into me punishingly hard, pulling at my hair each time he shoves inside me. My hand shoots up to cup his balls, giving him the last edge he needs.

He comes hard down my throat. His fist tightens in my hair, and his dick pushes in deeper into my mouth until I am gagging, struggling for air, with painful tears seeping out of my eyes.

With a final groan, he pulls out of my mouth. Milo  lifts me to stand, and drops kisses all over my face.

A few minutes pass before I watch him leave theroom to dry our clothes. I simply turn around and collapse on his bed. Soon, Milo falls on the bed to join me.

He shapes my body with his hand and kisses my hair in the gentlest of ways. “Do you want to stay here for the night?”

Hell no. Milo is already on edge about my subsoncious physiological reactions. I don’t want to risk adding nightmares to that equation, which he will definitely hear if we sleep here together.

That will be backward momentum when we just took huge a giant step forward.

“I’d like to go home.”

CHAPTER 10

-----------

Raven

I tiptoe inside Milo’s room, and place the tray with coffee, juice, and French toast on his nightstand.

We came home late last night. I waited as long as I could before bringing him breakfast.

I sit on the bed next to him to inspect if he is close to waking up yet. He looks dead asleep and, of course… dead drop gorgeous as usual.

Milo doesn’t have the covers over his body. I wonder if he purposely positions himself sexily while he sleeps.

His boxers are hanging so low that you can see his V-cut running to his lower abdomen. He looks like something sculpted by Michelangelo. Every single part of his body is contoured, and he fucking chose a position to show off all of his assets.

It’s ridiculously annoying for a man to be this good looking. I am not even into appreciating the physical aspects of men, but his aspects are hard to deny.

I use my fingers to brush the hair off his eyes so I can see his face more clearly.

Some time passes before Milo opens his eyes. I beam at him and I am quickly rewarded with that Sinclair megawatt smile. Both of the Sinclair boys know exactly what they are doing with that smile of theirs.

“Good morning.”

I can’t help but laugh. “It’s not morning. It’s noon, sleeping beauty.”

Milo groans and rubs his eyes. “If I am sleeping beauty aren’t I supposed to be woken up by true love’s kiss?”

I tilt my head. “Do you want me to go find you your Prince Charming?”

Milo turns his face away dramatically and closes his eyes. He looks so fucking cute. “I can’t hear anything you are saying unless I am kissed and woken up.”

I laugh again, feeling ridiculous. “That’s bullshit because you just responded to me.”

“I can’t hear you,” Milo sings with his eyes closed. “This is just me, sleep-talking.”

“Fine, you fucking liar.” I lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, and thank you for the flowers,” I whisper against his cheek. “They are beautiful.”

Milo had someone deliver flowers to the house and asked Mom to put them in my room. He must have done it while we were at his condo last night.

His daily efforts make my day. Sometimes it’s coffee, sometimes it’s flowers, sometimes it’s my favorite candy, or anything that reminds him of me.

My favorite is when he leaves post-it notes in my room with messages. I collect them in the same box where his lunch notes are stored from back in the day.

“You are welcome.” He gives me that smile again that makes my heart stop. His tone immediately turns demanding. “Now, my other cheek feels lonely.”

My mouth drops open. “Are you being impossible on purpose? How about you get your ass up so we can have lunch since the breakfast I brought you is now ruined?”

The tray of food is starting to look sad. The coffee is cold. The French toast looks soggy. I should have woken him up instead of oggling at him for so long.

Milo slightly opens his eyes to look at the tray of food but he doesn’t make a single attempt to move. “Looks good to me. Feed it to me.”

This man is going to be the end of me. “No, because that,” I point towards the tray, “looks disgusting. But if you get up, I’ll buy you lunch with some of my new hard-earned cash.”

“You are offering to be my sugar momma?” His lips quirk up with a smile. “You know what? I have always wanted to be a trophy husband.”

“Did you now?" I ask dryly. "Is that why you studied so hard and attended Columbia?”

“Exactly,” Milo says lazily. “I was trying to scope out potential future doctors and lawyers who would want a good looking trophy husband at home to raise the kids.”

I can’t help playing along. “Ugh,” I sigh exasperatedly. “That sounds genius. Trophy wives have it so good. All they have to do is look good and give good blow jobs.”

Milo chuckles. “You sound almost envious of trophy wives, baby. I am not opposed to it if you want to change your career path. Might someone be considering giving up their promising career for a life of blow jobs and looking pretty?”

“Someone is not,” I say indignantly. “I am just pointing out that it’s a genius career path. It requires minimum education and qualifications. It’s the least amount of investment for the highest return in profit.”

“Sounds like you are envious,” Milo closes his eyes, ready to go back to sleep. “Let me know if you want me to make your dreams come true.”

“Whatever! Come on Milo, please get up.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. I have no idea why I am trying to wake him up.

His work hours are odd. Sometimes he works throughout the night and sleeps throughout the day.

Other times, it’s a regular nine to five job. His sleep schedule is all fucked up like mine. Just because my ass can’t sleep, doesn’t mean others need their beauty sleep disturbed. He might actually need the rest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were still tired.” I press my palm flat down on the mattress to push myself off the bed.

“Don’t you dare get off this bed,” Milo warns silkily, with his eyes still closed.

How did he know? And why the hell did I stop midway because he ordered me to?

“Can you say please?”

“Don’t you fucking dare get your cute little ass off this motherfucking bed… please,” Milo throws the words back at me with his own sarcastic twist.

Whatever. It's as much as I can ever get out of Milo.

“I’ll take it, you ass.”

“You will take it in the ass?”

“No!” I yell at him, feeling mortified. I punch him on the chest. Mily laughs and gives me a suggestive look. I am sure my cheeks are turning bright red. We have never talked about that.

We haven’t even had sex the normal way yet. I mean, we have, but as far as I am concerned our first time after all these years will be when we both agree to it. I am focused on starting new.

However, to start new I need clarification on our current relationship. The last time we were together, I waited for Milo to address it. Not this time.

Milo continuous to allow our families to believe that we are a couple, but we have never discussed it.

Personally, labels make no difference because I know what he means to me. I am happy to oblige if it’s important to him as long as he can also give me what I need in a relationship.

So, I need to clarify the things I want out of a relationship.

“Don’t move,” he suddenly whispers before I can state my intentions.

“Why?”

“Just stay there,” he barks another order before jumping off the bed.

I roll my eyes at his domineering tone. “Just stay there… please,” I correct.

Milo makes a beeline to the bathroom before tossing over his shoulder, “Yes, yes. You are trying to teach me how to talk to you like you are my equal. Noted.”

If he knows what I am trying to do then he should apply it in practice more often.

“Are you saying that I am not? You know, if you want me to be your girlfriend then you have to talk to me as such. You can’t talk to me anymore like I am a high school kid that you boss around.”

Milo peeks from the open bathroom door with a toothbrush hanging off his mouth. He disappears out of sight to rinse and comes back to the door frame.

He smirks at me cockily. “You are my girlfriend?”

My mouth drops open in disbelief. “That’s all you took away from everything I just said?”

He feigns a pensive look. “Yes, I did. But to be honest, I haven’t sowed my wild oats. I don’t know if I am ready for the commitment or that label.”

“First, I didn’t say that I was your girlfriend. I said if you want me to be your girlfriend then you have to change your ways. Second, if you don’t want that label then you should probably stop telling people that I’m your girlfriend behind my back,” I retort.

“Fuck that.” He flashes me his stupid arrogant smile as I shake my head at him.

I have heard him threaten Brandon continuously to stay away from his girl. Whenever our family members ask about our relationship, Milo slips in the word “boyfriend” multiple times without fail. I have even heard him tell people that I am the future Mrs. Sinclair.

There is only so much of his behavior that I can discipline.

My first true sexual experience shaped my preferences in bed, which basically consists of sexually craving Milo. Similarly, both of our first true relationship (if you can call it that), shaped our emotional needs.

Milo needs the world to know that I am his because he could never say it before.

As for myself, I need trust, respect and to feel safe around my significant other.

Feeling safe around Milo is a work in progress. Even Milo understands that, and I am grateful for it.

We have built trust over the last few weeks. However, I am still struggling with a gut feeling that Milo was behind our families catching us naked. My dad still has trouble looking me in the eyes. The recovery process from the fall has been grueling. And that look on Reid’s face haunts me till the day. I want to believe that there is no way Milo would purposfully put me in such an awful position. However, once broken, trust is hard to rebuild.

Since safety and trust is fickle, Milo sure as hell will not deprive me of respect. This doesn’t end with respecting my choices. It also means I don’t want to feel cheap, nor will I condone him speaking in a way that I don’t deem acceptable.

“I am serious, Milo. I already told you what I need from you. I get that it's all a work in progress, but you can be more cognizant about showing me respect.”

“I’ll do better,” he promises gently.

“You better,” I point my index finger at him threateningly. “I’m not your ward anymore. While it’s fine in the bedroom, I don’t find it sexy to be bossed around by my partner outside of it.”

Milo raises his eyebrow, his tone light-hearted again, “Ward? Is this another outdated English word you picked up while in Paris or did you travel back to the eighteenth century for that one.”

Instead of responding, I close my eyes and collapse backward on the bed, now imagining what it’d be like if we really could travel back in time. I would love to live in Victorian times. It would be so romantic if Milo and I could attend balls and dance waltz.

My eyes fly open when I feel a pair of lips on me, pulling me out of my dreams of a Victorian world.

Milo tries not to touch me abruptly anymore. He made sure to stomp back to the bed so I’d hear his footsteps. Then he made a display of rustling around and dipping the mattress extra hard with his knee. I was curious to see how far he was willing to take this. I was half expecting him to ring a gong next.

He is working on making me feel safe again.

I smile against his lips and his “sudden move.”

“I didn’t want to kiss you with morning breath,” he murmurs.

“You have never had morning breath,” I say it because it’s true. It’s a weird phenomenon.

He shrugs. “You never know.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He smiles down at me, and I almost melt in his arms. Fuck. The way he looks at me, it makes me want to stop breathing. It's like I am the sexiest thing in the world. What is this man doing to me?

“Hi,” I can’t help but suddenly feel shy under his unnerving gaze.

“Hey, you,” he says with that usual air of nonchalance.

How is he always so poised and together? Nothing affects him while I am a nervous blubbering idiot half the time we are together. I wish I could act like him.

Milo leans in to deepen his kiss, and I moan as he licks across my bottom lip. My heartbeat picks up. My mouth parts to give him more access, and my hands land on his abdomen to explore his body.

Milo grabs my hand, his eyes darkening. I almost whine. It drives me crazy nowadays if I can’t touch him.

“I know what you are thinking,” he says in a low growl.

“You should,” I reply mildly. “I am making it pretty obvious.”

Milo’s eyelids droop slightly. His gaze lands on my mouth, then trails down my body. “Touch yourself again, baby,” he says hoarsely. “I want to see what you learned yesterday.”

I’d say that I am a lazy-fuck at best with other men. I am not one for dirty talk or experimenting. But the things I have always been willing to do with Milo shocks me, including what I say next.

"Do it with me.” I grab his hand and guide both of our fingers between my legs and under my shorts.

Milo groans like he is about to lose his shit. His hand presses my fingertips on my sex. He doesn’t make a move after that. Instead, he watches my body language. I relax, trying to give him the green light.

Milo suddenly slides one of my fingers inside me. Then he slides his own blunt middle finger along with mine. I yelp from the sudden shock and nearly come right then and there.

One of his fingers, along with one of mine, is inside me as we pump together in the same rhythm. Our fingers are dripping from my arousal.

It’s a simple act, but it feels like the most erotic and intimate thing we have done together.

“Fuck, Milo,” I bite down on my bottom lip.

As if sensing my heart palpitation and my manic need, Milo quickly sits up on the edge of the bed and pulls me to his lap. I know he is about to take charge. We both pull our fingers out as he peels my shorts down and spreads my legs apart.

My eyes close in anticipation. His hand fists my hair, gripping it tightly. His other hand slides between my inner thighs. He slips a finger inside me again, making me gasp.

“You are always so fucking tight,” he says roughly.

I shift my hips so I can grab his hard erection through his boxers. I stroke him, but I am barely able to keep my eyes open. Luckily, Milo’s already throbbing.

I moan as he slides another finger inside me. Every time he retreats, he swirls his fingers around my clit, working me slowly. I am lost. All of my senses are fixated on his touch.

I feel his cum land on my hand and his low groan in my ear right as I clench. When he growls, “You’re mine,” I also let go with a scream.

Shaking in his arms, I come down from the orgasm. Milo cleans us up with a Kleenex, and my head somehow hits his pillow.

He gently pulls my shorts up before covering my face with kisses. I lie with the biggest grin on my face.

I wonder how I must look to him as he stares down at me, eyes closed, satiated, with a stupid smile plastered on my face.

There is a whisper in my ear, “Rave?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you stay up all night again?”

I keep doing that. I really shouldn’t. Milo hates my sleep schedule or when I pinch to wake myself up, but he never points it out.

Not to mention, the dark circles under my eyes are not cute and very much being looked down upon by Theressa dearest.

Some days I am so fucking delusional from lack of sleep that I can’t tell if I am dreaming or if it’s really happening. It’s embarrassing, but I have literally ran into doors from my haze.

“Raven, you can’t keep taking Ambien just to sleep for an hour or two. You know how dangerous they are.”

“Milo,” I groan. “Please, it’s late. No lectures.”

I hear his husky laugh. “It’s not late, baby. It’s mid-day, remember? And my lectures are good for the soul. We can talk about what’s causing your lack of sleep, if you like.”

That would gut him. There might have been a time when I wanted that, but not anymore.

Uncle Reese wanted his children to grow up with all the luxuries he was denied; private school education, trust funds, and a large house to entertain their friends.

He was proud that his children were privileged. He wanted to serve the world to them on a silver platter.

I used to think that his thought process was skewed. His children would much rather have his attention and time than the other superficial offerings.

However, watching the end result, I can’t argue with his logic. New York is flashy and people here are desperate to belong to flashy inner circles.

Enamored by their mansion-like home and seemingly grand life, the Sinclairs were surrounded by people. It gave them credibility and connections in a superficial society; though no one knew what it took to keep up this façade.

Milo’s trust fund ensured that he is the majority share owner of his company. He was able to recruit investors at the mere age of twenty-one because they didn’t suspect a rich kid of running away with their money.

Milo would have been successful regardless, but probably not at such a young age without the backing Uncle Reese insisted that his children received.

Yes, their childhood was hard. But Uncle Reese wanted to give his children their best chances. From the looks of it, he did just that. His calculations paid off.

Milo’s career is only in the beginning stages according to the Forbes article about him. He is already well off. I can’t imagine where he will be in a few years.

That same article quoted his company’s worth. Even now, his company is worth enough that Milo can sell his share and walk away a very wealthy man.

Unfortunately, Milo is not a regular twenty-five-year-old. While selling his company might ensure that he will remain a rich New York bachelor until whatever next passion project comes his way, it will not be enough to support a houseful of people who are used to a luxury lifestyle.

Perhaps Milo is just like Uncle Reese in that regard, stuck on trying to provide everything he possibly can for his family. He is a man of habits, after all. One of his habits is taking care of people.

I hope it’s a habit he can someday break to become a free man.

Whatever he decides, I just know that I don’t want to be one more person he has to take care of, or yet another burden.

I can’t even count the number of all-nighters I have seen him pull in this month alone, and all the shit I have seen him do for the household to take care of everyone. I can’t be another person that he has to worry about or feel guilt over. We are past all of that.

“We can work on identifying the issues and come up with a plan accordingly,” Milo continues with the lecture that I have been sleepily tuning out.

I slowly flutter my eyes open, turn to him and smile. He looks like an angel sent here to help me chase away my demons. A beautiful angel with beautiful eyes.

Do angels also have their own demons? It looks like the angel and the devil are in an epic battle inside of him. It’s ironic because the devil is also an angel.

I shake my head at my ridiculous thoughts. “You are so cute.” I lean over to kiss his stupid, arrogant face.

He brushes the hair off my face. “I am serious, baby. We have to work on this. It’s getting bad.”

“I know,” I agree because otherwise this man is going to call every therapist and specialist under the sun, if he hasn’t done so already.

I have to tell him everything so he understands that he is wasting his time talking to therapists. I probably have to do it sooner than later. I just want us to have a few more days. We need more time.

“Good,” Milo sighs and presses more light kisses all over my face.

I hum contentedly. I can’t get enough of this. How come it was never this good before?

The back of Milo’s hand continues to stroke my cheek. I can’t decide what I like better. The small kisses all over my face or the gentle strokes.

I love this side of Milo. It makes me feel so cherished and protected. When he is not busy making his business partners’ lives miserable, he has this softer side that no one else gets to see.

Selfishly, I prefer it this way. This side belongs to only me. I wish I could pocket it and keep it away from everyone else for safekeeping.

My eyes land on Milo’s semi-hard cock. He just finished but I shouldn’t be surprised. This man always walks around with a hard on when I am around.

I trail my hand down his stomach when Milo breaks the spell. “Baby, you are shaking.”

Seriously? I can’t help a physiological reaction. Did he have to ruin the moment?

“I get cold easily,” I say in a mildly irritated tone. “My shaking never stopped you before. Why is it such a problem now?” I immediately snap my mouth shut.

Fuck. Those words just slipped out. I shouldn't have said it.

I know that Milo is trying to change. Despite my previous beliefs and against all odds, he has changed.

I am just frustrated at the situation. How are we supposed to move forward if I can’t stop reacting to him, and if he won’t stop noticing it?

Something has to give.

Milo ignores my tone but I feel his irritation creeping up as well. He stands from the bed.

“I’ll go adjust the heat,” he says coolly. A few minutes pass before I watch him move to adjust the heat and fall back on the bed.

The last fews weeks have been magical. Last night was beautiful. Today has been wonderful thus far.

But right now, it's fucking tense again. It’s silly to let this ruin the moment.

“I am sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t mean to snap. I am frustrated at myself for reacting this way. It’s not intentional.”

Milo closes his eyes. “I know.” He wants to say more, but he is controlling himself. “There is something I have been meaning to ask you,” he finally spits it out.

Keeping my eyes locked on him, I nod. “Sure.”

Milo draws lines on my arm with his fingers. “What exactly were your feelings for me back then?” There is not a hint of amusement on his face with that question, just a stoic expression.

I am pretty sure I know what he is referring to, but I still clarify. “Do you mean when we first started sleeping together?”

Milo gives me a small nod, his eyes intense as ever.

I contemplate for a few minutes on how to verbalize my feelings. “I-I don’t know,” I admit hesitantly. I make it worse when I add, “I think the imbalance of the power dynamic in our relationship didn’t leave room to view you as a romantic partner.”

It’s not that Milo was able to dominate the relationship because he was a man. It wasn’t about gender. Age wasn't the problem either. I dated older men before Milo.

The problem was that one party held significantly more power while the other was a minor and legally under his protection.

When Milo doesn’t respond, I start to babble nervously. “It was already difficult for me to process romantic feelings. All I witnessed were broken relationships that stemmed from romance. My only definition of love became friendship and family. I guess you could say I put all of my eggs in that basket, and my heart simply wasn’t open to entertain any other types of love.”

I look at Milo, hoping that my long explanation is sufficient. Yes, I was attracted to Milo back then, but we were in such different points of our lives.

I often find myself wishing that Milo waited for me, and expressed his interest later in our lives instead of leading with a sexual relationship.

It's a pointless thought. We can't change the past, but I still wonder how different our lives could have been if he had just waited.

It was simply not our time back then.

The truth is, the right guy at the wrong time, is still the wrong guy.

Milo simply frowns. “Friendship type of love? Is that why you agreed to be in a relationship with Reid?”

Ay vey. This is another difficult conversation. I can tell that his mood is quickly shifting.

“Reid was there for me during some difficult times,” I explain calmly. “For the longest time, Mia and Reid felt like my only family. When he presented some logical aruments about how a progression between us could be for the better, I couldn’t decline."

“So, he manipulated you?”

I am taken back by the harsh words. I am sure it's written all over my face as well. This whole inquiry seems unnecessary. It can only bring up resentment over a past that we can't change. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“Are you telling me that you have never tried to manipulate me?” I ask in a frustrated voice.

Milo is being hypocritical right now. At times, all three Sinclair siblings, Milo included, have manipulated me. It’s not intentional. They do it absentmindedly.

Would I ever let another other person without the Sinclair last name get away with the same things?

Hell no.

Why do I look the other way when it comes to them?

In every way, each Sinclair has done more for me than my own parents who brought me to life. This gratitude for the Sinclairs will always exist in my heart.

The way I see it, it’s picking your battles. If it’s something that I can provide without an extensive fight with myself, it makes me happy to do so. Plus, remember? I am a Sinclair pleaser.

Reid knew that I didn't view him romantically. All he asked of me was to try for something more. His arguments resonated with me.

Was I aware that he was wording his arguments in a way that would resonate with me?

Yes.

Could that be considered manipulation?

Perhaps.

All the same, did it change anything?

No.

Reid drew a picture of the type of life I have always wanted. I wasn't interested in anyone else. And I never thought Milo and I would be in this position.

It meant the world to Reid if I agreed to something more. At that time, nothing was holding me back from at least considering what he was asking of me.

But Milo is still unforgiving of that simple consideration. He frowns at my response. He looks irritated again and I am starting to feel like that little girl being disciplined by an adult.

"So, now I am the one manipulating you?" Milo snaps at me.

What is going on today? We haven't argued in weeks and now shit just keep piling up.

I sigh. "Look, I don't want to keep arguing with you. When I agreed to Reid, we hadn’t seen each other in years and you weren’t exactly my favorite person. But things have changed between us. I feel differently for you. Can’t we just focus on that?”

Milo pauses for a few minutes and searches my eyes for a minute longer. “Okay.” He slowly lies back on his pillow and closes his eyes. “Now, about my other cheek.”

“Excuse me.”

“My other cheek,” Milo repeats simply. “You were supposed to kiss my other cheek before you distracted me with your Harlotten ways.”

I turn to stare at him.

I am shocked.

We just had an intense conversation that I thought would send Milo off the rails. Instead, he seems placated with my answer.

I am happily surprised by how quickly Milo can let go of shit now. It’s beyond sexy when a man can do that instead of whining and bitching.

“I already gave you a pity kiss on one cheek,” I tease.

“Pity kiss? You cried your eyes out until I conceded and let you kiss me. Count your blessings that I threw you a bone. I usually charge people for kissing me.”

“So, you are a prostitute?” I ask curiously.

“I believe the term is lady of the night,” Milo tsks.

“Then you are the world’s worst lady of the night,” I say with a severely straight face. “First, you are not a lady. Second, who whores out their cheek for money? It’s like the worst service you can provide. And who the fuck would even pay for it?”

“You would.”

I can’t even with this man. He is crazy. I say nothing more and just smile to myself.

When he doesn’t hear a response out of me, he speaks again on his own accord. “Are you doing that thing where you stay quiet, and you act like you are not about to burst out laughing?”

I bite the inside of my cheeks to stop the laughter from rolling out.

“If you just kiss my other cheek, I’ll probably open my eyes again.”

Fine! I stay quiet, but move to kiss his other cheek. In a pure Milo move, he moves his face as soon as he feels my proximity and takes me in a lip lock instead.

“Are you happy now, princess?” I say against his lips.

Milo tilts his face. “Are we back to that? If I am a princess, then you are my lady-in-waiting, and I demand to be catered to.” He claps his hand. “Let’s go. Cater to me.”

“Oh? And how would your highness like to be catered to?”

Milo looks lost in thought for a moment. “You can start by feeding me breakfast.”

I give him a peeved look. “You are a grown-ass man. Feed yourself.”

He cheekily grins. “You are a rude ass lady-in-waiting. I might have to dock your pay.”

I decide to humor his crazy ass and locate the knife and fork. With a fork in one hand and knife in the other, I cut through the now soggy French toast. I lift the fork to his mouth and inwardly grimace.

That does not look appetizing. I don’t know why he is insistent on eating the soggy French toast.

Milo takes a bite of the toast, and his stupid poker face crumbles. “That’s disgusting.”

I try to act offended, but I can’t hold it in. The laughter rips through me. “Hey, I worked really hard on that.”

“Really, baby? Did you work hard on that or did you just order it from Sordi and then put it on a plate?”

My whole face splits open. I have no fucking idea on how to make French toast. Milo loves French toasts, and Sordi is his favorite breakfast spot.

“I cut up the strawberry and put it on the toast myself,” I proudly announce while Milo chuckles. “And the coffee,” I add. That has to count for something. “And the orange juice.”

“You mean you poured orange juice from a bottle into a glass.”

“Well, I held the glass while Mom poured it.”

Milo’s laughter echoes through the room. “Baby, you are pathetic in the kitchen.”

“That’s not true,” I try to make my case. “What happened to, it’s thought that counts?”

“People only say that when they do thoughtless things.”

I feign a dramatic show of leaving. I get up from the bed, but Milo quickly grabs my elbow to halt me.

It all happens so fast.

It’s probably the lack of sleep.

It’s definitely the lack of sleep.

One moment we are joking around. The next moment, startled by his sudden move, I dig the sharp end of the knife into my thigh.

Milo’s quick reflexes kick in. He immediately grabs my hand before the knife can do any damage. In another swift move, he pries the knife out of my hand and scoops me into his lap.

His hands frantically inspect my thigh area around my shorts. When he doesn’t notice any damage, he holds on to me tightly, occasionally kissing my shoulder.

Shock.

That’s all both of us are left with. Neither of us says a single word. Milo is holding on to me as if he is scared that I’ll disappear into thin air.

“Milo, I...” I trail off before I can even explain.

It doesn’t make any sense. Milo might have been my worst nightmare once upon a time, but things have changed. There has been sexual acts that I willingly participated over the last few days. I even initiated it.

He has grabbed me suddenly before. This has never happened.

“It’s okay,” he immediately assures, almost as if he is saying it to himself.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me, baby,” he reaches over and kisses my cheek.

“I think I did,” I say quietly.

“You didn’t.” He places small kisses all over my face. “I can’t lose you again,” he mutters so inaudibly that I almost miss it.

Milo discards the knife in the trash as if it will come back to cut me open on it’s own. It seems a bit dramatic until I catch the look on his face.

His usual blank expression falls for a fleeting moment, allowing me to see his real feelings. It’s the same emotion and truth that’s becoming abundantly clear as the days go by.

I have seen that look before. I hate that look.

He is looking at me like I am a glass doll that will break at any moment. As if I am some sort of traumatized victim that needs to be taken care of. As if I am fucking Tessa, a woman Milo resents. A woman that he all but legally emancipated himself from at the age of eight.

A woman he does not respect!

The sympathy I felt is quickly replaced by the anger that’s boiling my blood right now.

That look on his face is worse than what I just did. He doesn’t get to admit that he is the root of my fears, then act like he is scared of me. As if I am acting like her.

It inspires a feeling I haven’t felt towards him in weeks; anger and resentment.

-----------

Milo

“Don’t you have work?” Raven asks. I detect a hint of irritation laced with her tone.

After what just transpired with the knife, I am not leaving Raven alone for a single fucking second.

I am scared shitless right now. Raven could have seriously hurt herself if I wasn’t quick to respond.

Next time I might not be quick enough.

Yes, Raven has the right to discuss and disclose her trauma at her own pace. However, she just tried to stab herself with a fucking knife.

Safety concerns have to trump timing at this point. I am shaken to my core.

I just got used to being surrounded by her presence. Raven with my family. Raven in this house. Raven in my office. Raven at every meal. Raven in my arms.

Raven. Raven. Raven. It’s still not fucking enough. The smell of vanilla needs to be imprinted. More secure. More permanent. None of that will happen if she slips out of my fingers again.

“I rather hang out with you,” I shrug because it’s the truth despite what just happened.

“Aren’t we Prince Charming,” Raven says in a monotone voice.

“Only for you.”

“I should go back to my room,” she pushes off me. “I don’t want to distract you from work.”

She is pissed.

Really fucking pissed.

I get it. She can’t help her adverse reactions. She is starting to feel frustrated over something that she has no control over. The emotion is understandable.

“Baby,” I say patiently. “We have to talk about what just—”

“I know,” Raven cuts me off.

“You have every right to go at your own pace,” I follow up.

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” Raven stands a few feet away from me as she fixes her clothes.

I stand as well and grab a pair of sweatpants from the ground. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable about sharing?”

Raven paces my room. Her eyes flicker to me every so often, as if sizing me up, trying to get a feel of me. She looks tense, irritated, and impatient, all mixed in one. I see her analytical brain moving at rapid speed, as if trying to draw a conclusion.

“It would help if I could ask you more questions about your past,” she finally says.

I don’t know why it helps for her to know about my past, but I am not in the position to deny her. I am eager to expedite this process before something worse happens.

“Sure,” I sigh.

“You said that you haven’t had sex in the last few years.”

“That’s correct.”

“So, the last time you had sex—”

I don’t let her finish that thought and blurt out, “The day before you left for Paris.”

We both take an audible breath.

There are two significant nights in our lives. Both of them are the two worst nights of our respective lives. The last time we had sex and the night before Raven left for Paris.

The last time we had sex was the “incident.” It was the worst night of my life.

The night before Raven left for Paris was the worst night of her life.

I thought she was about to bring up the last time we had sex. In my haste to distract her from what I did, I brought up the worst night of her life, the root of her nightmares.

I watch her quietly, not allowing my own panic to show on the surface.

Raven stares at me and then shakes her head as if chasing that thought away.

She ignores the awkwardness and asks another question. “During that time, did you try anything other than sex to climax? I know some people are into playing and bondage—”

“No,” I answer without hesitation.

“Nothing else that got you off?” her voice is devoid of all humor, unlike last time.

“No,” I answer again, unable to leave out the irritation in my voice this time.

“Have you ever tried BDSM?” Raven ignores my tone.

“Yes,” I unsurely admit.

“Are you into it?”

“A few people I slept with were into it.”

“What did they want you to do to them?” she presses.

“Tying them up, handcuffs, spanking, choking—”

“Choking?” Raven emphasizes the word. “Hurting them?”

“If that’s what they wanted,” I try to say it as if it’s no big deal, hoping to move on.

“Dominating them?”

“Sometimes.”

“How about role play? Have you done role play?” Raven determinedly peruses ahead.

“Yes.”

“Did it ever include forced sex fantasies?” Raven asks much too casually.

I freeze.

I finally understand why she has been so curious about my sexual history. It’s not because it was an off-limit topic.

All of this time Raven has been trying to find out if my sexual history somehow shaped the outcome of what happened between us.

She is trying to find a justification for my actions. If my actions are a result of past trauma or it shaped my behavior, then I don’t have to take responsibility for the things I have done. And she doesn’t have to hate herself for still wanting me, despite my past actions.

Unlike what she believes, I don’t have a morbid past. Nor did I lose my shit because I had too many responsibilities.

I lost my shit because she is a part of me, and being without her is the same as being without my limbs. You can’t live without the most vital organs and parts of your body. It’s the same concept. There are no reasons for my actions other than pure deprivation of her.

However, you can’t exactly explain that to the victim of your actions.

“No,” I give her my stoic answer.

“Have you ever forced yourself on anyone else other than me?” Raven’s voice is eerily calm.

She has every right to an answer, but that doesn’t help with the tightness in my chest.

“No, Raven,” I say slowly. “I have never forced myself on anyone else.”

Raven opens her mouth again, but I cut her off. “Before you ask, I’ll make this easy for you and give you the answers you are looking for. I don’t have any sexual trauma. No childhood abuse. No particular kinks. Nothing that interests me about forcing or dominating a woman. The only sexual preference I have is my unquenchable thirst for you.”

“So, it is me.” Raven mutters.

She starts to say more words under her breath. I don’t quite hear the other near inaudible words but I strain my ear.

I think she is saying, “I started all of this. I am toxic. Why did it have to happen to us? Why did it have to be you who did that to me?” Her words are not laced with venom. They are laced with sadness about a realization that’s settling in.

“Rave—” I start, my voice hardly above a whisper.

Raven is looking down, and I feel as lost as she looks. I cup her face to turn her to me. She closes her eyes as if deflecting her reality, hoping that she is anywhere but here.

“Baby,” I breathe. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Raven opens her eyes to give me an empty stare. She slowly removes my hand.

She is freaking out.

“Tell me what you need right now,” I say in the calmest tone I can manage.

“I want to be alone,” she rasps out.

I nod. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“N-no,” she stammers. “Please don’t be near me.”

I hesitate. This is killing me. And her. “Do you want me to send Mia?” I try again.

She shakes her head, as if impatient for me to leave instead of asking more questions. I give her a final nod and walk out of the door.

CHAPTER 11

The Incident - Six Weeks Ago

-----------

Milo

I try Tessa’s psychiatrist for the tenth time and slam the phone down when no one picks up. He gave us this number in case we need to get in touch with him, but he barely ever picks up.

He is supposed to have someone on-call for emergencies, but the on-call person is useless too.

She suggested that we take Tessa to the hospital, before taking down a message for the doctor. I already have the doctor’s number. She may as well be a voicemail service. And Tessa doesn’t need hospitalization. Her side effects are long gone. We just want to know what caused it.

Everyone is so fucking useless.

I am sitting at the desk in my parents’ bedroom, pouring over Tessa’s history and physical reports to figure out which ingredient in her drug caused an interaction.

There are two doctors in the house. Dad is currently checked out, and Uncle Reese is unfamiliar with the drug Tessa is currently on since it's from a clinical trial. Until now, the medication has been working well.

We have seen Tessa have side-effects from drugs before, but we have never such extreme side-effects.

Tessa started having tremors at brunch earlier today and lost muscle control. In front of a roomful of people, she urinated on herself.

It was a jarring sight, especially for Raven’s parents.

Tessa has incredibly low self-esteem. She is easily swayed by other people’s opinions and often feels down about herself.

Paranoid about what others might think of her, she used to refuse to leave her bedroom and interact with others.

Knowing who Tessa is, this isn’t something she can easily recover from. She is horrified that it happened in front of Raven’s parents. Embarrassing this family is her biggest insecurity.

Tessa doesn’t know how to recover from setbacks. This is a very well known fact in the Sinclair home, which is why everyone is so nervous right now.

This is why we always put our shit aside whenever Tessa related shit spirals out of control. There is only one other time when things got this out of control.

At that time, Dad was working in the Cayman Islands. Mia and Raven were worried about Tessa’s deteriorating depression and refused to leave her side.

I saw the effect it was having on them. So, I decided to send Tessa to Grand Cayman and have Dad take care of her.

It was the only time I have ever refused to take care of Tessa. Reid, Raven, and Mia were younger. I needed to prioritize their needs over Tessa’s.

I couldn’t let them continue growing up in a toxic environment, just like I had to. I simply couldn’t afford the kind of drama that came with Tessa, while raising three teenagers.

For a while, Tessa was doing better. I had hoped that she would turn things around for herself and this family. But then she simply fluctuated over the years.

I try the doctor again and hang up the phone when he doesn’t pick up. I stare at the inanimate object.

There is one more person I should call. I need to know that Reid is okay.

Reid has a habit of going down a path of self-destruction whenever he is upset. He is still fucking pissed at me over the whole Raven situation. I have no fucking idea how to verify if he is alright.

On top of the stress over Reid and Tessa, work has been insane. I am also now responsible for the living expenses of seven other people.

Sure, I have money. But New York is expensive, and these are people who are used to a luxurious lifestyle.

I look over to the bed and focus on the beautiful girl sitting there. At least I have that again. I let her face do its usual magic to alleviate all of the other shit and kill the items on my to-do list.

Raven is leaning against the headboard. Her mass of dark hair is covering part of the dress she wore at brunch. She is still a damn paradox. Raven looks like the peace I need, surrounded by the mass of chaos I am trying to get away from.

Tessa is lying on the pillow, as Raven strokes her hair. Dad is sitting in the armchair. Eyes closed. Head leaning backward. Defeated. Mia is huddled up, her head resting on Tessa’s pillow.

I am usually able to function on autopilot but even I feel exhausted by this scene. The idea of calling more doctors or going through another report is daunting right now.

A soft touch on my shoulders jolts me out of my own head. “Are you okay?”

I look up to find Raven. I almost have to squint. The floor lamp is behind her, so the light looks like a halo around her head as if she is an angel. She looks like Kismet. I don't believe in God but she looks like a prayer answered.

“Yeah,” I respond quietly. “Are you?”

Raven nods. “Do you want me to help you look over the H&P reports?”

I am sure my face gives away my shock. Everyone assumed that I would just take care of the next steps, but there is still only one person ready to lessen my burden.

Raven doesn't wait for my confirmation. She pulls up a chair to sit down.

“I don’t know if you recall, but I used to write down every time Tessa had a bad episode. They are documented by date and symptoms. I told Mia to keep up the same log. Here,” Raven digs out a thick notebook and hands it to me. “If I remember correctly, Tessa experienced tremors while she was on her old antidepressant drug. We can check for the active ingredient in that drug and cross-reference to see if the same ingredient is in this new drug.”

Raven starts to sort through the paperwork to make an organized pile. She already has a highlighter out to mark all possible medication culprits.

“Since this is a clinical trial, there is no way to know about all the side effects and possible interactions. But we can check out the online support group they created for everyone in the trial. We can ask if anyone else experienced similar symptoms.”

Raven doesn’t wait for me to respond and cascades more ideas while organizing the table.

Like the disarrayed pile in front of me, she is slowly cleaning up the disarray inside of me.

As I watch her, she works at manic speed. I am transfixed by her hazel orbs, moving over the paperwork. She discusses different ideas for a plan of care without even taking a breath.

“Milo,” Raven finally takes a breather. “You look exhausted. I don’t mind looking over this by myself if you want to take a break.”

“No, I am fine.” And I really am.

I am not thinking about all of the other shit that’s going on. Not my work. Not about my crazy family. Not about my finances. Not even about my emotionally devastated, missing brother.

Once again, she is pulling me out of nothingness to let me breathe; and she doesn’t even notice. But I do.

All I can see is her as my starved eyes take in the only person that matters.

The only person who makes me feel alive, but can also sentence me to death.

The only person who makes me sane again but is also the reason for my insanity.

The only person who can take over my entire brain till I feel like I am asphyxiating and just at the drop of a hat, lets me breathe again.

As she works, I sit there and stare like an idiot at the only person who owns all of me.

-----------

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yeaa—” Raven moans again, her eyes droopy and words slurred.

I hike her dress further up to the base of her neck, keeping my eyes focused on her, but also behind her.

I see Dad and Mia’s silhouettes through the kitchen window. Raven is pinned against a tree in our backyard while I try to fuck her as quietly as possible.

It’s goddamn near impossible when she is being this tempting, agreeable, and vocal.

I just hope that this corner is dark enough and far enough to fly under the radar. We have ten minutes before Dad or Mia comes out to look for us.

Yes. Yes. I am a monster, especially after Raven so sweetly put aside our differences to help me with Tessa. We are past all the labels—soulless, monster, sociopath. Yawn.

When Tessa spirals this out of control, the rest of us band together. It’s not that far-fetched for Raven to be a team player.

I am well aware that the only reason she is letting me back in her life is because we are family, and we are in an unique predicament.

Like myself, her kryptonite is also love, but for this family.

Plus, tonight is not my fault. Well, it’s not entirely my fault.

After all the shit with Tessa, Dad and I decided that we needed a drink. We were having a glass of Brandy at the kitchen bar when a frustrated Mia and Raven charged towards us.

Wordlessly, Mia opened a bottle of vodka and Raven grabbed two shot glasses.

Dad and I stared in disbelief as my underaged little sister pounded a shot with my ex-ward slash current girlfriend, for all intents and purposes.

After Mia and Raven slammed their shot glasses down, Dad reached over for two more shot glasses, instead of disciplining Mia.

He placed the shot glasses in front of Raven as she poured four shots instead of two.

We all fucking needed a drink after that mindfuck. Even Dad and I realized it. All four of us quietly took one more shot.

By the fourth shot, I kept my eyes trained on Raven. Her cheeks were flushed, her skin looked warm, and her words were starting to slur. She was being friendly… towards me.

I never approved of Raven or Reid drinking as teenagers. But the few times she came home slightly tipsy after a party were some of our most sensational experiences. Her skin would be on fire and she wanted to be touched over and over.

The girl got horny when she got drunk.

I was already close to losing my mind, and Raven was the only anchor I needed. I was in no position to discourage what was happening.

It’s an addiction, remember? Her body is an addiction. Loving her is an addiction. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of room to be a good person.

So, fuck the consequences. Fuck shame. Fuck morals. Fuck everything else.

Nothing else matters other than being with her.

And for that to happen I needed her at level intoxicated, not level incapacitated.

I put a hand on top of her shot glass when Dad moved to pour the next round. I let him know that she looked flushed and needed air.

Raven was too drunk by the time I dragged her outside. After a quick assessment, I seeked out the darkest corner with a tree and picked her up with one hand.

Raven was giggling and being receptive. I threw my peacoat around her, pushed her against the tree, and hefted her up so the tree bark won’t bruise her beautiful skin.

Which brings us here, with her dress hiked all the way up with her thong pushed to the side.

The dress has a built in bra so it was easier to expose her perfect breasts. I love that Raven wears dresses around the house, most likely to appease Theressa.

My hands roam all over her front. Raven’s nipples are even harder due to the cold. I slightly pinch a hardened nipple.

“I missed you,” I say against the shell of her ear before licking it.

Raven groans. “Milo—”

My lips are on her neck as I undo my belt and pants. Raven isn’t fighting back tonight. Instead, she fists my shirt with her hands. She simply looks at me and mumbles something unintelligible.

My one hand goes under her ass to hold her up, the other is holding my cock as I rub it in between her folds. She is wet but it’s not quite enough.

I slowly slide two fingers inside her mouth.

“Baby, suck my fingers.”

For a moment Raven doesn’t do anything, but when I stroke her tongue again, Raven sucks on my fingers. I retract them, replacing them with my mouth.

Using the lubricated fingers, I reach for her cunt and stroke her core until she lets out another moan.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yeah,” she chokes out.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?” I murmur.

I press my digits on her clit, and Raven whimpers against my mouth.

“Milo,” she whispers my name again. "Don't let go."

Fuck. Me. I don't know if she means in general or right now because she is scared of falling. Either way, I can barely restrain my growl as I slip inside her slick heat.

“Fuck.” I kiss her parted lips.

I tell her all the things she doesn’t want to otherwise hear. I ask her to tell me all the things I have been dying for her to say. She lets them all slip out.

“Tell me you want me. Tell me that you are mine.”

“Do you like me fucking your tight little pussy?”

“Scream my fucking name when you come.”

“It drives me crazy when I can’t touch you.”

“Do you know how much I fucking love you?”

I grab her face and take my time exploring her mouth. I shove inside her deeper, and do the same thing with my tongue.

Both of her hands fall on my chest for balance.

Raven moans incoherently as my fingers move on top of her swollen core. She arches her back, trembles and calls out my name.

That’s all it takes for me to spill inside her.

I am panting hard against her mouth, and Raven looks like she is about to pass out from the orgasm.

“Hi, pretty girl,” I smile at her but she is already snuggling against me with her arms around my neck.

I quickly smooth down her dress and fix my clothes. By the time I am done, Raven has no interest in walking, which is fine because I have on interest in putting her down.

“Raven had a little too much to drink,” I announce as I enter the kitchen with Raven snuggling in my arms. “She looked like she was going to pass out in the patio so I am going to put her to bed.”

“You kids can’t handle your liquor,” Dad jests.

“You guys weren’t on the patio,” Mia points out.

I glare at her, then turn to Dad. “See you later. Good night.”

I walk out of the room, aware of Mia’s frown following my back.

Whatever. As far as they are concerned, she is my girl and I can put her to fucking bed if I want.

I am sure Raven intended to correct our families about our “relationship” status, but her well thought out plan was interrupted when bigger problems started brewing.

While Raven is distracted, I keep slipping in the words girlfriend and future Mrs. Sinclair as frequently as possible to get the parents accustomed.

I need to solidify this before Raven snaps out of the Tessa orbit. Not that anyone even cares about our illicit relationship anymore. That stigma is now insignificant due to the recent development.

However, two people might still question this union: my siblings. Reid is not here, and Mia is also stuck in the same Tessa orbit.

For me, Tessa is just another obligation and an item on my to-do list. Mia is not so jaded, which actually works out well.

For once, Mia is distracted.

-----------

My room is the master bedroom. Even though I am barely ever in New York and I own a condo, my parents never switched the rooms back.

This room is more private than Raven’s, so I bring her back here. I have barely finished undressing her when Raven closes her eyes.

Minutes pass by. She is still sleeping peacefully, but I haven’t been able to sleep a wink. I can’t. Not when she is lying on my bed, next to me. Pliable. Vulnerable. Unresistant.

It’s been years since she has slept in my bed, though all I want to do is wake her up. She is so fucking far away from me when she is asleep. I miss her when she is unconscious, even if she is right next to me.

I draw imaginary lines on her arm. Dipping my head down, I start kissing her and licking my way across her bottom lip.

“Mmmm…” Raven moves her face sleepily when I gently bite down.

I drop down more, licking every part of her skin as I go. Moving my body further down, I make a space for myself and lift both of her thighs.

I lower my face to her cunt and Raven gives out a moan in her sleep as soon as my tongue hits her clit. Raven’s hips buck forward on their own to chase the friction. She starts to shudder in her sleep.

“Oh my God,” Raven wakes up midway through her orgasm. She is still coming, arching off the mattress. I increase the friction, to lengthen her climax. “Fuck,” she sobs and her hands fist the comforter.

I crawl up her body and rub my dick against her pussy. Raven is breathing hard, having barely come down from her orgasm.

“I need you, baby,” I moan into her mouth.

Slowly, I sheath myself inside her again, keeping her recently injured leg in mind.

“Holy shit,” I groan.

Raven is still drunk, and really fucking horny despite the spurts of sleep. She keeps squirming for more friction and wraps her arms around my neck to pull me closer.

I stare at her in disbelief and keep fucking her at a slow, savory speed, pushing her into a gradual climax. I follow her into that obscurity when I hear her set off.

I am done.

Unable to move.

Every single ounce of my energy is spent.

I finally realize that Raven hasn’t moved in a while. I lift my head to find her fast asleep, this time while I am still inside her. The thought makes me smile.

I drop my head in the hollow of her neck and inhale her scent, feeling so motherfucking content. I decide to stay inside her and try to fall asleep.

-----------

Raven

I am trapped under a heavy mass, fighting tooth and nail. I jerk one of my hands free to throw a punch—

I wake up with my fist extended, punching the air around me. I am fucking drenched in night sweat.

I try to orient myself and grow aware of a warm arm wrapped around my waist. Slowly, I turn my head to see the source—

This can’t be happening again.

I immediately use my hands to push myself back, to get away from Milo’s sleeping body. My body feels fucking paralyzed, and this looks like my nightmare.

I drop my body onto the floor. In a futile attempt to wake myself up, I slap my face.

It takes minutes to finally realize that this is not a nightmare, it’s my reality. All of the details from our drunken night together comes flooding back.

This was supposed to stop. All four of us have a silent pact that we put our shit aside whenever Tessa deteriorates. So, why hasn’t this shit stopped?

Tessa’s dissemination cannot be mine as well.

I fucking helped him, thinking that we have to put this behind us due to the situation at hand.

Milo truly has no boundaries.

Last night, somewhere along the line even I went along with it which is so much more despicable than what he did.

I tiptoe out of his bedroom to head to mine. The first thing I do is wipe down all the sweat and take a shower.

After that, I sleep for most of the day, nursing the hangover.

By the afternoon, my hangover subsides and my new phone alerts me of messages.

Brandon: Yo, Rave. Come to the split-level.

Alexa: Hi. Come to our “living quarters.”

Rave: What’s going on?

Alexa: Brandon wants to open a bottle of scotch that he has been holding out on.

Rave: Not a scotch girl.

Alexa: Come for the company.

Alexa and Brandon moved into the split-level yesterday. We left them alone while they unpacked.

My dad is grilling later today for a welcome barbecue for them. There is nothing else on the agenda so I take them up on the offer.

As soon as I walk into their living quarters, I take a moment to inspect the apartment. It’s still the same. A kitchen, two small bedrooms, and a den that doubles as a living room. Alexa and Jaci are sharing one bedroom, with Brandon in the other.

The Sinclairs used to rent out this portion of the house until Uncle Reese put a stop to it. He insisted on slaving away on extra shifts rather than downgrading to a smaller home or sharing the family’s privacy.

“Rave!” Alexa calls out.

“Hey, girl.”

“I am so glad you came,” Brandon joins in a chipper voice.

“Of course.

“This way my lady,” Brandon waves towards their den slash living room.

The living room has a beautiful loveseat, coffee table, and a wall-mounted television by the door. On the other side of the room, there is a desk table with a chair, along with one of those atlas globe bars. In true New York real estate spirit, this room is cozy but effectively furnished.

“Jaci is still not here?” I turn to ask.

“Jaci is moving in a couple of days,” Alexa informs.

Brandon flips open the globe bar to grab an expensive-looking bottle, along with a few glasses. No matter how much I insist that I am only here for the company, he still fills my glass with a healthy pour.

“What are you guys doing?”

All three of us turn to find Milo at the door. Brandon’s face lights up like it’s Christmas.

“Just getting reacquainted with Raven,” he takes me in a one handed hug.

The extra calm look on Milo’s face even makes Alexa grimace, and she is usually the laid back one.

She doesn't know why Milo is angry, but Alexa is quick to pacify. “Come on in, Milo. Join us for a drink.”

Milo’s eyes follow mine as he walks inside.

Soon, they start discussing the recent challenges with their business and how the move is going. I listen in here and there, although I don’t have much input.

Alexa is the first to throw back her drink while I am still nauseatingly staring at mine. “I’m going to take a quick shower, and then meet you guys back upstairs for the barbecue,” she announces. “I am starving.”

“Actually,” Brandon seconds. “I’m going to do the same.” Brandon follows Alexa out, but sternly tosses over his shoulder, “Finish every single drop in your glass, Rave. I mean it! That’s a very expensive bottle. Do not waste it. I’ll meet you guys upstairs.”

I look down at my glass. I fucking hate scotch. I am pretty sure this is going to end with me throwing up. I hold my breath in preparation to take a sip, when Milo slowly pries the glass out of my hand. He sips on the drink while his eyes stay trained on me.

Milo is looking at me intently, staring at my mouth, his gaze dropping only to take in my body.

“I’m going to head back to my room,” I quickly announce and push off the table that I am leaning against.

Milo casually grabs my arm to stop me. He continues to watch me with a dead expression in his eyes as he puts the glass down.

I see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Towering over me with his six-foot frame, he suddenly looks monstrous in comparison to my smaller frame. My legs feel heavy under his intense gaze and a familiar panic looms in the air.

“You look beautiful today,” Milo’s voice is low, his eyes further dropping to my collarbone.

I give my arm an experimental tug, and shockingly manage to free it. I quickly step towards the open door, but Milo reaches for my arm again to halt my escape.

He misses his hold and instead grabs the strap of my dress. The impact of my quick move, coupled with his hold, rips my strap, taking with it a portion of the fabric. The tear exposes my entire décolleté area, which he always identified as his favorite area of smooth skin.

“Milo, what are you doing?” I scream.

Staying silent as a mime, Milo wraps one arm around my waist while the other grazes my naked skin.

“So beautiful,” he finally whispers.

His dead eyes give away the hunger behind his dilated pupils. He looks like he wants to gorge on my skin.

Milo’s hypnotized gaze never leaves my décolleté area as he continues to run his fingers over the skin.

My eyes dart to the door. The two bedrooms are across the kitchen. I am guessing both rooms are locked if they are taking showers in their respective bathrooms.

I have been pretty loud in my protests and neither of them have come out, which means that they can’t hear me.

Milo swiftly removes more of the torn material for more access till I find myself bare-chested. He grabs my wrists next and presses his lips onto mine.

Milo leans in further to inhale deeply, as if he is trying to inhale my soul, before lifting me up on the table directly behind me.

As a last resort, I start flailing my limbs to hit him and ward him off.

“Don’t baby,” he whispers. “You didn’t fight last night. Don’t start fighting me again.”

“Milo, please stop—”

“I need to touch you.”

“You mean you want to touch me? You are so selfish—”

“No, Rave. It’s not only that I want you. It’s always a need with you. I can’t even breathe till I touch you. Don’t you remember last night? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I woke up. Why would you start to fight me again if you already gave in last night?”

“I was drunk, you asshole.”

I bat his hand away, but a large hand on my stomach pushes me down to lie flat back on the hard surface.

His hands grab my thighs, pulling my hip forward till my back hits the desk, which is when I see Milo sitting down on a chair between my spread legs.

“I bet I can make you scream just as loud when you are sober too.”

Right as he slides my thong down my legs and his tongue hits my cunt, doors start to creak. My eyes widen when I hear Alexa and Brandon’s unmistakable voices.

Before I was worried about not being able to reach them. Now, the thought of Alexa and Brandon barging in to find this scene is more abhorrent.

I lift my head to look at Milo who lifts his own lids to meet my eyes, all the while finding the spot that will unravel me.

Milo ignores the distraction, slides two fingers inside me, and presses his tongue down. I struggle in his grip, shaking my head at him to communicate not to do this in front of them.

“Don’t hold back,” he mumbles against my pussy. “You’re giving me that orgasm. Don’t worry about them. I could fuck you in front of the world, and you’d still come every time.”

His fingers seek out my G spot. I try to muffle my sounds by pressing both of my hands down on my mouth. My toes curl, and I clench my limbs to find a semblance of control to restrain the moan that threatens to rip through me.

The moment I hear the front door shut and their voices disappear, I let go without a second’s delay.

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck! Shit! Oh shit,” I start cursing every profanity when a climax like no other takes over. No real words can describe my out-of-body experience.

I keep moaning like a wild animal till I find Milo’s face hovering over mine.

“That was actually louder than last night.” He kisses my lips and grabs my shoulders.

Just like that, the roaring in my ears recedes to be replaced with a familiar humiliation.

I was forced to bend to another despicable moment, but my mind has not been forced to feel okay about it. I will never have a say over these reactions, and he will never stop forcing me into this.

There truly is no escaping him, or from myself.

I want to float out of my body before that reality settles in. I want to disappear into thin air and distance myself from this experience.

That is probably the reason why I hardly feel it when Milo pulls me up from the table and pushes my front against the adjacent wall.

The palm that’s on the back of my neck, holding my face against the cold surface, only slightly registers.

I barely jerk when my dress is lifted to display my naked ass and his cock shoves deep inside me in a single thrust.

My brain is hazy. All the same, I hear words floating all around me.

“Fuck,” there is a groan in my ear. “You were made for me.”

“I love it when your pussy squeezes me this tightly.”

“You are perfect.”

“You belong to me.”

My body is further shoved against the wall as he pounds into me. I hear the low roaring of my name floating around my ears, and feel a heavy mass collapsed against my back.

I stare straight into the white abyss in front of me and try to remember where I am. I blink to clear the fog to grasp my surroundings, but I can’t.

Instead, I focus on controlling my breaths. I can’t control that either, but I hear his shuddered breaths.

The hair is pushed off my bare shoulders. Little kisses are placed between my shoulder blades, on the back of my neck, my ears. A hand covers my chest, fingers massaging my breasts.

Words are coming from everywhere.

“There is no one else like you in this entire world.”

My heart is POUNDING like it’s about to burst out of my chest.

“I can’t live without you.”

I am sweating profusely, drenched in my own perspiration.

“Raven?”

My insides are trembling. Shaking.

“Baby?”

And I know, I just know I am losing my shit again.

“Hey. What’s going on with you?”

I feel the hair stroking before the room spins. An arm comes around my waist to hold up my body which is otherwise ready to slide down the cool surface against my naked back.

Gentle shake. “Shit. I wasn’t trying to… I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

Something must be wrong because his voice is starting to sound as panicked as I feel.

“Raven? You are freaking me out. Can you please talk to me?”

I try to respond, but it doesn’t work, so I decide to conserve my energy instead.

My blurry eyes finally focus to find Milo wrapping me into a cocoon with his sweater.

-----------

Milo

This is the worst night of my life.

Raven is shaking. She is completely unresponsive, and she is looking at me like I am her enemy.

Like she hates me.

I never want her to look at me this way again.

She stopped fighting me midway through and watched me blankly with contempt. It was like watching the life being sucked out of her.

Fuck. I even taunted her for climaxing.

As quickly as I can, I wrap Raven in my sweater and lift her in my arms to carry her up the stairs to the main house, and then up the stairs to her room.

Luckily, I don’t run into anyone as everyone else is presumably outside for the barbecue.

I lay her down on the bed and exchange her shredded dress for something unmarred.

“Baby,” I try one more time. “Talk to me.”

Raven remains a mute and closes her eyes, as if she doesn't want to believe what she is seeing is real.

Pulling the covers over her, I stroke her hair till her breathing evens out.

I put my head in between my knees. What the fuck was that? What did I do to her?

I promised myself I wouldn’t do this shit anymore. Even after all these years, I have zero self-control when it comes to this girl.

I am a fucking junkie.

I stayed away from my drug of choice, only to fall off the wagon. I just got used to a regular dose, and I couldn’t deal with the withdrawal again.

Is it possible to loathe your own actions, yet be unable to stop?

Is that what drug addicts think? They give into temptation and then drown in self-loathing?

If that’s true, then I get why junkies keep looking for their next high. Withdrawal is an insufferable bitch. Nothing in life gets better or comes into focus until you take another hit.

I’d sacrifice anything for another hit. And I did. I sacrificed the person I used to be. My morals. My brother. Myself. My very soul. There are no regrets. All of it is worth it for another dose of her.

But now, it feels like I am sacrificing her. Every hit comes at a price. The aftereffect on her is grueling.

I can’t break my addiction, but my addiction sure is breaking her.

This has to stop.

It has to for Raven’s sake.

I have to find an alternative where I don’t lose myself or lose her. Then I wouldn’t have to be this person to her, and I don’t have to live this life without her.

I have to fix this.

CHAPTER 12

Present

-----------

Milo

Raven was always an over-analytical kid. Spacey. Dreamy. Creative. But when that incident happened, it's like she spaced out to go into a different world that she created for herself inside her own mind to escape her harsh reality. The harsh reality that I created.

My craving for a physical relationship stems from my need to solidify that she loves me. Her love that is like a drug. Better than drugs.

Our physical connection is the only thing that provides me with proof of Raven’s feelings for me.

But that need of mine has the exact opposite effect on her. It makes her believe that I don't love her.

Just like how Raven silently loves unconditionally, she also silently stands up for herself.

She might not have hated me all of these years. She might not have turned me in. But she also refused to put herself in that position again.

Raven used to tell me, people treat you the way you let them treat you.

Raven didn’t like the way I treated her so she took herself out of the situation without harming me.

I fear that our last conversation is now instilling the same thought process in her.

If she can’t identify a reason to justify my actions, then there is no way for her to accept our newly developing relationship. Worse yet, there is no guarantee for her that it won’t happen again.

The threat of me morphing into the other guy will always remain for her, as will the fear.

Our past is shaping our future in the worst way possible. I have already seen the changes in her. Lack of sleep. Lack of eating. Lack of engagement.

Oftentimes I find her lying around in her bed, looking very much like Tessa. The sight gives me a shudder all the way down to my system.

While Raven doesn’t post on social media, Reid does. Looking at their photos over the last couple of years, I can't help but notice that she is happy. No dark circles. Healthy weight.

Raven makes everything in my life better through her actions, while Reid is the one who makes everything better for her in her life, not me.

And if I can’t do that for her… the worst thoughts keep coming to my mind. Thoughts that should not exist in my brain. Thoughts like, perhaps it's better if I let her go than watch her get destroyed.

Our only communication exchange since yesterday has been through texts, all of which keeps reminding of the same appalling thought.

Milo: Hey baby.

Rave: Hey you.

Milo: Are you feeling any better today?

Rave: Somewhat.

Milo: Do you want to go on a hike later?

Rave: Not today.

Milo: Have you eaten yet?

Rave: Not that hungry tbh. Hope you are having a good day at work.

Milo: I am. How about you? I haven’t seen you in the study today.

Rave: I put a pause on the website.

Milo: Why?

Rave: I am just not feeling up to it.

Milo: Oh okay.

-----------

Raven

I see Mia through my open bedroom door. She is charging towards my room with purpose. I get up from the bed as soon as she steps inside.

“Hey,” I gravitate towards her.

Mia doesn't respond. Instead, she closes the door and pulls me into a hug. It takes me a full second to register that Mia is hugging me.

I am so caught off guard by her sudden affection that I drop my phone on the rug.

Mia has been cloistered in Tessa’s room for weeks to make sure that Tessa doesn’t do anything drastic.

Milo finally convinced Tessa to get back on her medication. Milo and I haven’t spoken much since yesterday so I don’t know how he managed to do it, but I am sure Mia is the one who feels the biggest weight lifted off her chest.

For this celebratory milestone, we are having a family dinner. I put a dress on for the occassion and was just lying around till dinner time when Mia barged in.

I hug her back tightly. “Mia, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I have just been so worried about you,” she whispers, refusing to let me go.

I am feeling a little under the weather today so I have been lying around on the bed. But I am not sure if it deserves Mia's current reaction.

I hold her at arm's length, before bending down to grab my phone from where it dropped. “Mia, I am fine.”

“I know,” Mia says through a broken smile, but she can't keep it up. She lets out a sob which turns into full-on tears and cries.

“Mia!” I exclaim. I can't remember the last time she cried. "What's wrong?"

This has to be more than her concern over my health. Is this about college or moving out? No. Mia has no problem in that arena. She wants to leave this house. What other kinds of drama do teenagers have? Boys? This could be about her boyfriend.

“Is everything okay with Chris?” I try again when she doesn't explain.

“Yeah,” Mia slowly wipes her tears and composes herself. "This is not about him."

There is one more person I can think of. Mia used to have a crush on Brandon. She'd run up to him and tell him that she was going to marry him.

Milo's face might have been comical at the time, but this situation is not.

“Is this about someone else then?” I nervously hint.

My stomach drops at Mia's unsure look. She was nine when she had a crush on Brandon. He is almost ten years older than her.

If he encouraged her in any way, I will chop off his balls and bury them in the backyard. But Milo will probably beat me to it.

Then a darker thought crosses my mind. Everyone assumed I had a crush on Milo, while he was the one who harbored a fascination for me.

What if history were to repeat itself?

That’s ridiculous.

I am being paranoid due to my own experiences and my last exchange with Milo. That would never happen to Mia. She has a happy and normal life.

“Mia,” I try to smile but fail. “Please put me out of my misery. What's going on?”

“I wanted to ask you that. How's everything with you?”

I give her a confused look. “I told you, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me.”

“How is everything with Milo?” she asks more pointedly.

In the shuffle of it, we haven't had the chance to discuss my impromptu tumble with Milo and Reid's unprecedented reaction afterward.

I have barely seen Mia over the last few weeks, so we put a pin on it all. I knew we'd have to talk about the whole Milo debacle sometime.

“Mia,” I hesitate. “Do you want to talk about what's going on between Milo and me?”

Mia gently places one hand on my arm. “Rave, do you want to talk about what's going on between Milo and you?”

Mia's sobs have subsided. She is staring at me but giving nothing away with her facial expressions. I have no idea what she is thinking.

“S-sure, if you want me to. What would you like to know?”

“Whatever you are ready to share,” Mia whispers.

I don't respond but give her another quizzical look. I am not sure what Mia is insinuating, but her tone is keeping me rooted in place. There is a tingly feeling in the back of my brain.

“I'm sorry I didn't speak out about my concerns sooner. I was so worried about Mom that my brain sidetracked. I also realized that we… we are in a difficult situation. We don't have a choice but to live together right now. So, I wasn't sure if saying anything would be helpful. I saw you guys have been hanging out. I didn't really know how to take it and I didn’t think it was my place to say anything. I just had some suspicions but then I overheard you and Milo yesterday. I had to say something before I lost my nerve.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask cautiously.

“Rave,” Mia speaks slowly. “I love Milo. He is not only my brother, but he is also the only parent I have ever known. I love you too. You are my sister. But I can't understand why you are putting yourself in danger by hanging out with him instead of avoiding him?”

Mia's gaze is steady but sympathetic. She is staring at me with glossy eyes that are ready to start the floodgates once more. She is looking at me with… sadness. Immense sadness.

Mia knows.

I have no idea of what exactly she knows, but she's aware of our twisted relationship to some extent.

Like always, Mia has figured something out. She is one of the most emotionally intelligent people I have ever met. She comes off as tough, but in reality, she is extremely intuitive.

And right now, she is gearing up to something that I'm not ready to acknowledge.

She is slicing me open and reaching inside me to decode my very DNA. She is reading the sequences right out loud without my permission.

“Rave,” Mia starts again, “I love you. We all love you. No matter what happens, I want you to know that none of this is your fault. I am so sorry I insinuated otherwise. Just because Milo is my brother doesn't mean I wouldn't support you. If you want to come forward—”

“We should go downstairs for dinner,” I cut Mia off with a glare, silently willing her to shut up.

Has Mia lost her damn mind?

Did she even consider the weight of the words she was just about to utter? Words that should never be spoken out loud or in the light of day.

If those words got out, it would tear apart Uncle Reese and Dad's lifelong brotherhood bond. My parents would never speak to any of the other Sinclairs and insist that I do the same.

My dad is a man who lost his mind because his wife left him. Calling him emotional is putting it mildly.

Dad might have neglected me throughout my childhood, but he wouldn't be able to deal with someone from this family defiling his only daughter.

My parents are living here based on Milo's financial assistance. My father would rather be on the street than accept Milo's money or continue living here if he found out what Milo did.

He would also ensure that Milo ends up in jail. All of our lives and families would be left in shambles, completely devastated.

“You don't owe Milo anything,” Mia sighs. “If you want to come forward, I’ll be there for you. I’ll support you.”

I need to get out of this conversation. I can't acknowledge what Mia is trying to get me to admit. It’s not going to lead to any acceptable solution.

“Mia,” I warn her in a stern voice. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Just because he signed some papers to be your guardian, doesn't give him the right—”

“I don't know what you think you know, but—”

“You don't have to protect him.”

“I am not protecting anyone,” I snap.

It's the truth. I am not protecting Milo. I have already had my opportunity for retribution, and I made a different decision for myself.

My road to recovery has always been redemption, never about revenge.

Plus, the truth of the matter is, this situation is so much more complicated than I could ever articulate.

Consent, non-consent, force, coercion, sex, comfort…all of those lines have blurred together at some point with Milo.

I can't ruin our lives over blurred lines. Which is why I always wanted to take this deep-seated secret to my grave so no one would know of our horrible, tumultuous affair and our toxic physical relationship.

“No man should ever get away with that,” Mia tries again in a choked voice. “Milo was the one who taught us that, remember?”

“Please stop talking,” I hold up my hand and raise my voice. Mia clearly knows enough to destroy our lives. I have to do damage control and convince her what she knows is a complete farce. “You sound ridiculous and confused. How can you think so little of your own brother?”

“I'm not confused. I suspected something was wrong, and then I overheard you guys. I know what I heard!”

“You heard wrong,” I say with a fake sternness that I don't feel.

“I did not. You are in denial, which would be fine if the situation wasn't unsafe for you.”

“Why would the situation be unsafe for me?”

“Because Raven, Milo rape—”

“STOP!” I shriek at the top of my lungs, the pitch of my voice making her jump.

I didn't mean to scare her. I just had to drown out her voice. I'd never be able to survive if Mia finishes that sentence.

Mia is the one mirror I can never hide from. And that mirror is standing tall, reflecting back all of the agony rolling around inside of me.

She doesn't shy away from my stern gaze but levels me with a look of her own. It's not anger. It's not accusal. It's empathy and kindness because she knows I'm so fucked in the head that I've refused to acknowledge it.

I have never even said that word out loud or to myself. I hate that word. It makes me feel worthless.

Weak.

Like a victim.

Like a statistic.

I have erased that word from my vocabulary. Because if I erased it, then it doesn't exist.

And something that doesn't exist could not have happened.

This room is fucking suffocating. Maybe I can climb out the window. Are there really no other exits other than the door Mia is blocking?

“Rave,” Mia drops her voice, with more tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to push you. You have every right to discuss this at your own pace. But I am worried about your safety. I don’t know what he is doing to you. What would you do if the situation were reversed? If someone did that to me, would you just sit back and watch?”

“Mia,” I take a horrified step back.

My mouth goes dry. My eyes flicker to a familiar spot on the floor. I might have replaced the carpet with a hardwood floor, but nothing has changed.

Terrible images start dancing in my head. The thought of Mia lying on that same spot as someone she trusts traps her in and rips into her. The idea of her crying out for help and begging for a way out.

I can't… She can't go through that. She is just a baby—the little princess.

I was the same age as Mia. I know what it does to your young soul when someone you love unconditionally does something unthinkable.

There were other times when Milo didn't stop after I asked him to, but something snapped at that moment. I can't explain it.

I left for Paris the very next day after it happened.

I'd put myself through any hell to protect Mia from that experience. And that’s what she is trying to do right now.

She is putting herself through any hell to protect me, including giving up her favorite person in the world, Milo.

“I'm sorry,” Mia repeats. “I know you are not ready to talk about this. If I didn't believe the situation to be genuinely dangerous for you, I wouldn't push you. It just doesn't make any sense. Instead of reporting him, you are hanging out with him?”

Because I don’t have the Sinclair sibling moral compass!

Milo taught them that society sets the rules, and they have to follow them. If you break the rules, you have to suffer the consequences as punishable by law.

He instilled this moral compass so deep into Mia and Reid, that Mia can’t even release Milo from the same obligations and the standards that he himself set.

She would never be able to understand a man getting away without paying the consequences as demanded by law.

It is the exact damn reason why Milo always insisted on having me send him to jail. He was adamant that going to jail is the only solution if I felt wronged by his actions.

Alternately, if I didn’t feel wronged, it meant that I felt the same as he did.

He refused to understand that I don’t have the same moral compass as the Sinclair siblings. It’s one of the only things I never picked up from them, despite the years together.

Milo has them brainwashed to the point that there could never be another option other than redemption as set by society.

Mia is trying to do the right thing. She is utilizing what she has been taught and facing off with me to protect me.

Despite her young age, she is so capable. Mia is strong. If she were in my shoes, she would have raised hell by now to set things right. But I am not Mia.

I view the world differently.

Good people are capable of doing bad things, and punishment is not the only way to redeem your soul.

Milo is a good man who made some terrible mistakes. I know that.

That knowledge does not take away the hurt from those moments, nor does it decrease the anger I feel angry towards him for making me fear him.

But that doesn’t mean I seek retribution. I don't.

“Mia,” I speak steadily. “I think there has been a terrible misunderstanding.”

Mia shakes her head. “No, there hasn't. Milo should go to jail. If he serves time for his actions, he'll come out as a better man on the other side. I believe in Milo. He will accept his punishment so he can become a better man. That’s the only way he can redeem—”

Mia's voice is cut off by the sound of a text alert from my phone. On instinct, I look down at my phone. Mia steps closer to me.

“Rave,” she whispers. “I love you. If you come forward, no one will hold this against you. But this is your story and your decision. I just want you to know that I am here for you to support you. And I know that my brother will step up and right the wrong he did. It’s the only way he can become the person he was meant to be.”

I should be proud of Mia. I should hug her and thank her for being there for me. For willing to unblur the lines for my sake.

I should be overjoyed to have someone in my corner. Yet, I hate everything she is saying.

I am covered with sheer panic over her knowledge. I am scared of what this might mean for her relationship with Milo. Or how it might put him in danger.

And I am embarrassed for myself. My little sister is teaching me how to come forward with a #MeToo moment. It's supposed to be my job to teach her.

I am covered with shame that a seventeen-year-old has to point out that it's inappropriate to hang out with my sexual aggressor.

Looking down at the text message again, I almost laugh at the irony and timing of the message, even though none of this is funny.

Something other than “feeling under the weather” hits me. Opening the door, I walk downstairs, tuning out Mia's sobs and her pleas to stay.

I grab my keys and jacket. I hesitate, then grab another key from the tray, one that I forgot about.

Flinging the front door wide open I leave behind my personal hellhole.

CHAPTER 13

-----------

Raven

For years, the Sinclair family has been a conundrum to me. They are a large family, yet all of them are so damn lonely. Their lives seem perfect from the outside, yet it’s all a facade.

I pined to be part of this family, but the hope to be one of them burnt to flame a long time ago. I came back after all these years only to find out that nothing has changed here, and...

I lost Reid again.

I knew this would happen. The moment he caught me walking out of Milo’s room, I knew this was the only way it would end, with Reid excusing himself from my life.

But it is still bone-chilling once I did receive the actual confirmation of that fact.

I have been calling Reid for weeks. I’ve sent him texts and emails. I’ve left voicemails. He finally texted me back. It was cosmic. He laid the truth on me right as Mia did the same.

Reid: If I keep being your friend, then I’ll never be happy. If you care about me even a little, then please stop explaining. Please stop calling. I don’t want to hear it. Just let me go.

One text summed up a lifelong friendship. Our entire relationship. It sealed the deal.

During our worst fight to date, Reid called me toxic. He was right. Milo used to be a stellar human being. He got too close to me and it ended in disaster.

I would never want that for Reid.

Reid is pure. He is good. He is a light in my life that burns bright.

Maybe he made the right decision. I belong in the dark and behind the shadows, with someone just as broken.

Reid doesn’t need me to infect his life with my darkness. Nonetheless, it doesn’t decrease the pain.

It’s like when someone takes a hacksaw and cuts your whole body into two pieces, that’s what it feels like.

I lost half of my soul, and the other half is being crushed under a giant boot. This pain is insurmountable, but a soft touch on my shoulder cuts through my pain.

I feel Milo’s hand before I hear his voice. “Rave, what are you doing here?”

I am at my old house, the brownstone a few doors down from the Sinclairs.

After Dad and I moved out, the owners started doing Airbnb. Reid and I used to come here on the days the owners were unable to rent it out.

I still had a key, and they never changed the locks. This place holds memories to a lot of our shenanigans. It seemed fitting to sit here for hours to mourn him.

I don’t bother asking how he found me. From my peripheral vision I watch Milo pick up the phone I dropped and sit on the patio steps with me.

“Do you want to talk about it?” his tone is softer, which means that he read the text.

Comforting strokes run through my hair, and we both stare into the dark backyard.

“Is there anything I can do?”

I don’t provide him with an answer. I didn’t come here to talk. I came here to forget.

“Do you want to hit me?” Milo asks.

“Yes,” I respond before he forms the entire question.

I hear his husky laugh. “Okay, just not the face. It’s my moneymaker.”

I crack a sad smile. Before we even discuss Reid, there is a more pressing matter to deal with.

“Mia knows.” It’s a straightforward statement. I assume he will know what it means.

“I figured.” I turn my face in surprise. “I went to your room, only to find Mia instead of you,” Milo explains. “Mia was angry, and she rarely ever cries.”

“I didn’t tell her,” I offer quickly.

“I know. She is too smart for her own good.”

“She wants me to tell everyone what you did.”

Milo turns his head to glance at me briefly and gives me an understanding nod.

“I am proud of her. All those years I thought she was tuning out my lectures. Mia has a good head on her shoulders.”

I scowl at just the image of Milo behind bars. Is that what he wants?

“Why do all of you fucking Sinclairs think alike?”

“We have to take responsibility for our actions. Isn’t that what I taught all of you?”

“Or you can just control your behavior,” I snap. I can’t hide the sourness in my voice. “Then, there are no bad actions to take responsibility for.”

Milo stares at me instead of responding.

“You are upset because of Reid,” he says it as if the other news should not even be a point of conversation.

“Aren’t you?” I ask. “He is your brother and he might never speak to you again either.”

Milo sighs. “I assumed that risk.”

He did, but he also forced me to assume the same risk.

Actually, Milo is the last person I should be speaking to right now. He forced a choice down my throat that ended the lifelong bond I have had since my birth.

Milo will never understand how this feels. Unless you were born with another person, you will never know.

It’s like having a twin. Life will always feel half without your twin. Milo cost me the person who is literally a part of me.

I want to yell at Milo and hurl insults at him. But even in my stubborn stupor, I know that it’s not his fault... not unless he is behind us getting discovered.

Which is why I need to hear him deny it at least once. I am beating a dead horse, but I can’t help myself after this new development with Reid.

I can get over the humiliation of getting caught naked in front of my religious father.

I can get over the concussion, the physical pain, and the frustrating moments when my body refused to cooperate after falling down the stairs.

I can even get past Milo’s decision at that moment to only acknowledge consent based on a physical reaction, rather than my verbal one.

However, if Milo purposefully shoved our naked bodies in Reid’s face, knowing how Reid felt about me, then that might be the cruelest thing he has ever done, and to his own sibling no less. If he had a hand over hurting his brother to this extent, then he is not the man I want.

It will destroy the trust we have built so far.

It will tear me apart if it's true.

“What do you mean you assumed that risk? Do you mean you assumed that risk by exposing us to our families?” I ask in a low voice.

“How many times are you going to ask me the same damn question?” Milo asks coolly. He looks irritated and on edge as well.

My anger comes out to match his. “And yet you are still to provide me with a yes or no answer. I have to overlook a lot of your shit, Milo. I told you what I need from you. If I can’t trust you then we are done for good. So, I am going to ask you one more time and I want a straightforward answer. Did you or did you not ask our parents and Reid to come to your room that day so we can get caught together?”

Milo looks at me for a long while. He finally responds. “No. I did not ask our parents to come to my room that day so we can be caught together. Nor did I ask Reid.”

I don’t believe him.

I don’t know why, but I don’t fucking believe him. Milo has always been honest with me, so why the fuck don’t I believe him?

Some of the threats Milo has handed out, including wanting to murder Reid, had my stomach twisted up in knots.

However, at the end of the day I always believed that Milo was speaking emotionally. Milo loves Reid almost as much as Reid respects Milo.

Which is why it’s such a tough pill to swallow that no matter how hard I am trying right now, I don’t believe any of the words coming out of his mouth.

All I want to do is fall on Milo's chest.

I want my Milo to console me over losing my best friend. But despite our recent dynamic, I have been reminded of our truth.

I don’t trust him and I probably never will. I don’t because I know that I will never have the Milo I want, without the threat of the other man who lurks behind his shadow.

At least there is something else that will help me forget this truth of ours.

Other than to mourn Reid, I came here to find Mia’s weed. Reid and I used to hide our weed under a floorboard in the living room. Mia does the same.

I was going to search for her weed, but I had an urge to sit in the cold first. I stand up and move towards the sliding doors.

“Rave, what are you doing?” Milo follows me.

I jiggle the key into the lock, unlock the door, and slide it open.

“Raven,” Milo grabs my arm. “You can’t go in there. Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Yes!” I turn around with so much fury that Milo tenses. “I’ve lost my fucking mind. You are not the only person who gets to lose their mind and use that excuse to justify your behavior.”

Resentment. That’s the word, and that’s the feeling coursing through me.

Resentment over losing Milo, who used to be my hero. Resentment over making me break my bond with Reid. Resentment over turning me into a fucking statistic. Resentment over not being able to trust Milo.

Most of all, resentment over having to feel scared of Milo, instead of feeling safe. I can’t be with the man in front of me in the way I want without breaking myself.

It all fills me to the brim with resentment.

“Why?” I ask sharply. “Why did you do it? And why did you do it only to me?” I jab my index finger to my chest as years of resentment on hold comes pouring out.

I have never forced anyone else.

That’s what he told me. So, why did I get to be the lucky one? Milo quietly watches me. I lean in closer so he can see the fury in my eyes.

“What did I ever do to you that was so horrible that you had to do that to me?” I say over my harsh breathing, which sounds loud in the quiet night.

Milo is still silent.

“Speak,” I howl. “Answer me.”

Coward.

When I don’t receive an answer, I turn away from him and slip inside the house.

-----------

Milo follows me inside the house, sliding the door shut behind him. I roam through my old house, scouring for the “special” floorboard.

I stiffen when I hear Milo’s voice in the dark living room, barely lit by the moonlight streaming through the windows.

“Do you remember the first time we met? We met in this room.”

Milo waits for a response. When he doesn’t get one, he speaks in a hushed voice.

“I was so relieved when Dad told me that you and Uncle John were moving to New York. Uncle John knew about my overwhelming home life so he always tried to give me a break.”

I remember our move. I was so excited to live in New York, next to Reid and Mia.

I was also excited to meet the Great Milo Sinclair, the golden boy who was a phantom to me.

Milo was my hero before I even met him. I had hoped he would exceed my expectations. He did.

“I hadn’t seen you in years. I didn’t know what to expect. When we met, all I saw was a mass of black hair. All I smelled was vanilla. Both imprinted on me that night. But when you addressed me in your eloquent way, that was when I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Milo’s voice is almost inaudible, so I stop shuffling and strain my ears.

“You became a part of my family. You turned to me for everything; advice, friendship. We connected on a level I have never experienced. I don’t know when I fell in love with you. I just know that it’s been almost a decade, and I still can’t pull myself out of that vortex.”

There is that word again. Love. It sounds foreign coming from his mouth.

Milo has coupled that word with such atrocious actions that it feels like an antonym at this point.

I don’t look at Milo, but I start moving again. I don’t care if my footsteps drown out his hushed voice. He doesn’t deserve to say that word to me.

If that’s how he felt he should have waited for me. If he waited for me, I could have given my heart to the Milo I want, instead of constantly living in fear of when he will morphe into the other man.

We could have been different if Milo waited instead of putting me in a powerless situation.

“You’d smile at me like I was your whole world. Everyone joked about your crush on me. However, no one knew how I felt about you. I was older so I had to look the other way. And he acted like you were his.”

Milo struts towards me, refusing to let me ignore his words or walk away from him.

“So, when your dad asked me to take care of you, I agreed. I thought if those lines could never be crossed, we’d outgrow the feelings. I bottled up my emotions, hoping to get over it. I didn’t. Then one day, you told me that you loved me and everything changed. I gave in, thinking that we both put a lid on our feelings for far too long.”

I inhale sharply and stop in my tracks in the darker part of the room.

Milo pauses as well, maybe to gauge my reaction. He is standing only a few feet away from me now.

“I saw you say no to plenty of men before me. So, if you didn’t want me then why didn’t you also say no to me from the start instead of leading me on? Why, Rave? Why did you do it? And why did you do it only to me?” Milo throws my words back in my face, his voice finally at an audible level. “What did I ever do to you that was so horrible that you had to do that to me? Do you think I wanted to feel this way? Do you think this is the person I aspired to be?”

When I don’t respond, Milo steps out from the dark. I can see his face clearly. His face is resolute about the answers he wants.

“Answer me,” he demands in a low voice. “Why go along with it for as long as you did and let me believe I finally get to be with you? Why give me that hope only to rip it all away?”

Milo moves in, invading my space, demanding answers.

I push right back against his chest on impulse to create distance between us. My anger is boiling.

“How was I supposed to say no to you?” I hiss. “I was seventeen and under your care. You dictated my life. You made all of my decisions so how the hell was I supposed to choose differently when you chose for me.”

“Are you serious?” Milo says incredulously. “I treated you like a grown-up, You had every chance to make up your own mind from the get-go. I had faith that you were mature enough to make your own decisions.”

“God, just listen to yourself,” I bellow. “Why would you treat a high school kid like a grown-up? No one at that age is mature enough to understand adult relationships. If I bring you a seventeen-year-old, would you fuck her if she acts mature?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Milo shouts.

“No, answer me!” I demand more forcefully.

“Of course not. What the fuck do you take me for?”

“If it’s such an unthinkable act, then why did you do it to me? I am the same age now you were when we started. I recently hit my head, but I still wouldn’t have sex with someone living under my care. I’d have more sense than that.”

Milo crowds me till I start to feel suffocated.

“I didn’t have any sense left when it came to you. I didn’t see you as a high school kid. I saw you as my friend. My confidante. My everything. I can’t even say that I regret it. It’s better to have been with you than never knowing what it’s like. If you didn’t feel that way, all you had to do was tell me no from the start.”

“And how would that have mattered?" I ask angrily. "Because when I did say no to stand up for myself, you still went through with it.”

I spin around to walk away in the opposite direction, but Milo grabs my elbow to turn me around.

“Have you considered that by the time you said no, I was already in too deep?” he hoarsely whispers. “You broke my heart. I didn’t know how to deal with it; I fucking lost it.”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t, Milo. Don’t tell me how I broke your heart when you used to treat me like your hooker. All we did was fuck. And all you ever said was, come to my room.”

The room becomes deafeningly quiet as he processes my words. We stare at each other in the dark, our chests rising and falling.

He knows that I am right. Milo never showed me the positive attributes of a relationship that he has so easily shown me in the last few weeks.

Minutes go by before he finally addresses my remarks.

“I was inexperienced with relationships,” he quietly admits. “And you were so non-confrontational that you ran away from all heavy conversations. Our physical connection was a reflection of our undeniable feelings so I let it be. But I should have tried harder.”

“I should have tried harder?” I seethe. “That’s all you have to say? Give me your honest opinion, Milo. Do you believe I deserved what you did to me because I made a poor decision in high school by not saying no strongly enough?”

“Deserve it?” Milo flinches. “Raven, no. I don’t think that. It’s… it’s not like that. There is just…” Milo looks around as if searching for an answer, “there is nothing worse in life than being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. It’s torture. It makes you do awful things. I was looking for a way to connect with you. And you always physically responded…” his voice trails off with a glazed look.

We both stare at each other with a sadness that neither of us can decipher.

This is too hard. I can’t do this with a sober mind. I turn around wordlessly and go back to my original search.

Milo follows me, confused by my movement during such a heavy talk.

I see a familiar spot and do a silent prayer. Kneeling on the hardwood, I use my knuckles to tap on the floorboard.

Milo bends down and gently grabs my arm to pull me up to standing.

“It’s not here,” he announces.

I openly gape at him.

“Raven, I raised three teenagers next to a near-abandoned house. It’s not rocket science. I know the owners. I have a spare key in case of emergencies. I inspect the place regularly.”

I still stare at him, feeling dumbfounded.

Of all the things he has ever done. Of all the shit he has pulled. The manipulation. The assaults. The bullshit excuses he keeps piling on top.

I have no idea why but, of all those things, this is the worst thing he has ever done to me.

It shouldn’t be; far from it.

Maybe I feel this way because Reid is gone. Maybe it’s because Mia knows more than I ever wanted her to. Maybe watching Tessa reminds me how none of us ever change. Maybe it’s because I miss the old Milo.

Or it might merely be the fact that I needed to numb myself, and Milo robbed me of that.

Maybe it’s a combination of it all.

But something in me snaps.

As I glare down at Milo, my pupils dilate. My breathing becomes ragged—my adrenaline spikes. My heartbeat picks up at an alarming rate.

Before Milo can react, I make a fist with my right hand, draw it back, and punch him right in his fucking poker face as hard as I can.

Holy shit!

“Ow. Fuck. Fuck,” I cry out. I cover my fist with my other hand, hunching over in pain.

I punched Milo square on the jaw, but Milo, the fucking hulk, has an iron jaw. I am pretty sure I broke my fist while his jaw remains impeccable.

“Damnit, Rave,” Milo puts his hands around my shoulders as I hold my fist to my chest. “Let me see. You probably broke a finger.”

“Get off me!” I shake him off, still holding my right hand tightly to my chest.

“Baby,” he says more gently as if trying to alleviate my descent into madness. “Just let me take a look at it. We might have to ice it.”

This is when the caring guardian I needed finally shows up? Not while he was fucking me as a teenager and didn’t have the decency to stop after I asked him to?

He cost us our chance. He lost himself. He cost me my innocent upbringing, and I will never get to have that back.

And this is the moment he chooses to care? He has even cost me my fucking sanity, and he doesn’t even know it.

So, insanity it is.

And insanity takes over.

Milo told me he loses all control with me. He fucked up our lives because “he lost it.”

Well!

I. Have. Lost. It.

I fling myself at Milo. I use the same right hand to land another punch.

“Raven, stop,” Milo moves to avoid my assaults. “You are going to hurt yourself.”

I don’t even notice the pain on my fist as pure adrenaline takes over. Milo closes his eyes as if resisting his urge to roll them.

“Baby, you have barely recovered as it is,” he tries again to make me see reason.

I pretend not to hear him and land punch after punch on his face, neck, and shoulders.

“Shhhh,” Milo soothes and grabs both of my arms with ease, trying to calm down my hysteria. “Stop, baby. You’re going to fracture all of your fingers if you don’t.”

I use my left foot to stomp on his right foot with all my might.

Milo is so shocked by my insane array of attacks that he lets go of my arms.

I stumble forward, then I turn to face him.

“It sucks, doesn’t it, Milo?” I yell. “When you ask someone to stop, and they don’t stop.”

Milo is standing a safe distance away, but I can see his stunned expression.

“Is that what this is about? Do you want to hurt me? Is that what will make you feel better right now?”

No. I don’t want him to agree to this. I want him to suffer the way I did, against his will.

I want him to hate this, then I want to force it on him. I want to make him bleed the way my insides are bleeding right now.

However, having tired myself out from my own attacks, I momentarily stop flailing.

I am not satisfied with the results, but my arms are exhausted from throwing punches.

My hands feel like they are about to fall off. There is blood on my knuckles, while Milo remains unscathed.

Milo is watching me closely. His body language is clear. He is thinking of at least five different ways to fix me. All of his protective instincts are out.

Milo, the caretaker, is in full-blown concern mode. But I don’t want this guy right now.

I want Milo, the lust-crazed sociopath. That’s the only person I want to hurt at this very moment.

That’s the guy who robbed us of what could have been.

“You can’t fix me,” I answer the question that his body is resonating with.

“No, I can’t,” Milo admits in a shockingly calm voice. “Raven, if it’s going to make you feel better to hit me, then fine. But can we do this safely? It’s clear that the punches are hurting you. Why don’t you try using your nails? Or biting is equally effective.”

That condescending piece of shit.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you seriously telling me the best strategies to inflict physical pain while reserving my own bodily harm? Where the fuck was this concern while you were having your way with me and ruining my life?”

“I wasn’t trying to ruin your life,” Milo whispers. “Raven, I love you. I want to fix—”

My hands move on their own accord at his empty declarations of love.

Milo suggested using my nails. I am taking him up on it. I scratch his cheek and his neck till I draw blood.

Milo doesn’t budge this time. He doesn’t try to stop me either, which takes away any satisfaction this situation could have provided.

Frustrated with his lack of response, I take a break to plot my next attack. I bend over to gasp for air, with my hands on my knees.

Milo uses the opportunity to continue speaking.

“Raven,” he uses a tone meant to pacify me. “I am not sorry for pursuing a relationship with you, but I am sorry for hurting you. You have already punished me for years—”

“It’s not enough,” I cut him off. “You deserve to rot in hell for what you did.”

“I already did,” Milo grinds out, sounding like he is at the end of his rope. “It’s been years. When will this suffering end?”

“NEVER!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

The loud word echoes through the silent room. It vibrates through us and bounces off the still walls. As the word settles in, a dark cloud takes over Milo.

I wanted him covered in dark bruises like he covered my life in darkness.

My blind punches are not effective, but I can sense the effect that word has on him. So I keep at it.

“I will fight till my last breath if that’s what it takes for you to get it through your head that I'll never forgive you for what you did,” I egg him on. "Ever!"

Milo’s jaw ticks at every one of my words. The fleeting anger in his eyes set in, and the tendons on his arms rise. I see him visibly grind his teeth.

He looks like the calm before the storm.

“Okay then,” Milo’s cold, detached tone is laced with a quiet fury that makes me inwardly shudder. “I will also fight you till my last breath if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

Milo takes a step closer to me, and it takes everything inside me not to bolt.

I stand my ground as Milo slowly reaches out and grabs one of my arms, flexing his fingers into me.

“The difference between us is that I have no boundaries when it comes to you,” he says in an eeriely low voice. “Do you know what my first instinct was after you told me about him? I wanted to tie you up on my bed and fuck the idea out of your head. I wanted to roam the streets of New York to kill my own brother. I still haven’t decided if I'm going through with it or not.”

I hear my own sharp inward breath at his words.

Milo, the caretaker, has officially left the building.

Hello, lust-crazed sociopath.

The sociopath I want to hurt is reminding me why I ran in the first place. I walk backward until I hit the tall column in the middle of the room.

I turn around when Milo crowds me with his proximity, and reach my palm out to flatten it on the column so the front of my body doesn’t crash into it.

Milo is next to me within the second, glaring down.

“What?” he growls. His rapid breathing indicates his palpable anger. “Are you scared, Raven? Have you ever considered that you wouldn’t have to be if you hadn’t played a part in all of this? None of this would have happened if you didn’t lead me on in the first place.”

My eyes are wide from fear, but I refuse to let my nerves get the better of me right now.

This is who I wanted to face. Wish granted. I need to confront him about his weak excuses.

“So, what?” I lift my chin up in defiance.

“So, what?” Milo’s brows shoot up, and he tilts his face with a cruel, taunting smile.

“So, what?” I repeat. “If someone leads you on that doesn’t mean that they deserve it. What are you going to say next, you dressed that way, so you wanted it? Don’t make excuses for yourself. If a woman tells you to stop, you stop. No matter what! You taught me that yourself.”

Milo looks at me like he is about to lose his shit even more.

“It’s not an excuse. If I didn’t know what it was like to be with you I would have never gone down that road. You consumed me. Loving you was—”

“Jesus!” I cut him off. “What you did was not love. Do you even understand the ramifications of your supposed love? You have no idea what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you trust unconditionally. You don’t know what it’s like to have basic rights taken away; the right to decide what you want to do with your own body.”

“You don’t know what it’s like when your only chance at happiness is taken away. You fucked with my head for entertainment. You exercised complete control over my heart and brain until I was drowning. You kicked me to the curb after making sure I’d never be free of you.”

I roughly grab his shirt collar, turning myself into the aggressor for a change. I look my assailant directly into his cold, dead eyes.

“I had a fucking momentary memory lapse when I let you back in my life,” I hiss. “I was crazy to forget what you are capable of.”

“You are right,” he growls. “You are crazy for underestimating me. Have you forgotten what I did to Ash or all the other fuckers I found out about while you were living it up in Paris? So, maybe it’s not in your best interest to piss me off right now.”

“Others?” I choke on the word.

Milo beat up one of my ex-lovers when he found out about him, but I only ever knew of one. How many has he done this to? I stare at him in disbelief.

“What the fuck!” I scream. “What is wrong with you? Why do you have to be this way?”

“Because I am obsessed with you,” he screams back. “Because I love yo—”

“No!” I cry out as my hold on his collar tightens. I will kill him if he tells me again that he loves me. “You don’t deserve to say those words to me.”

“I suffered for years, and you can’t even hear me say it?” Milo hisses. “I fucking love—”

“SHUT UP!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

“NO!” he roars back, equally as loud. “You will listen to the fucking words. I love—”

I don’t let Milo finish the sentence, and slam my lips onto his. I push him up against the column as hard as I can. One of my arms goes around his neck to grip his hair.

Milo is frozen from shock but suddenly moves at an all-mighty speed as it dawns on him what I just did.

He grabs my ass to pick me up. My legs naturally wrap around his waist. I lean further into him, forcing his back to hit the column harder.

I kiss him fiercely.

Rough.

Demanding.

Hateful.

Milo pulls me tighter into him with the arm he has around my waist. His other hand frantically grabs at the hem of my dress to slide it up to my hips.

Both of my hands travel between us to unbuckle his belt and undo his pant buttons. I pull down his zipper and reach inside his boxers to pull out his dick.

Neither of us come up for air as I aggressively stroke his tongue with mine and his dick with my hand.

With one hand holding his throbbing cock, I use my other to pull my thong to the side.

I slide him into my folds to position him, lift my body slightly off his, and slam myself down.

“Fuck!” Milo finally breaks the kiss to pant.

I place my palm flat on the column with the other hand around Milo’s neck, using the support to rock myself against him.

He is looking at me with nothing but awe, unable to speak. Both of us stare at each other in shock.

Milo slides his hands up from my thighs up to my ass and moves us backward till my back hits the wall by the window.

I slide my hands across Milo’s chest to his sleeve to peel his jacket off. He alternates his hands so I can peel off each sleeve, tossing the jacket over his shoulder.

He bends his knees slightly and starts to grind into me. Unable to find any support, I reach out for the window curtain next to me and pull at it for leverage as he hits every spot on my sex.

“God,” I bite down on my bottom lip, digging my heels into his back.

Milo moves us off the wall and walks with me in his arms. A loud thud, followed by the sound of something falling on the floor, jolts my senses from the lust surrounding me.

“What the fuck was that?” I look around in the dark.

Milo doesn’t respond. We bump into something else en route, but this time I don’t bother asking what shattered.

I don’t need lights to know that Milo’s darkened eyes are on a single track right now. He reaches the living room and pushes us both down onto the soft rug.

Before my back can hit the rug, I wrap my legs around his waist and shove at his shoulders, indicating to turn us over so I can straddle him.

Lifting myself up, I brace a palm on his chest and sink further onto him.

“Holy shit, baby!” Milo trembles under me.

His hands are gripping my waist, but I pull his wrists off and pin them by his head. Tightening my hold on his wrist, I start riding him.

“Use my shirt,” he groans.

“What?”

“If you are trying to restrain me, pull my shirt over my head, and leave it there. It will free your hands. I want to feel your hands all over my body,” he says in between broken breaths.

I still my movements and narrow my eyes at him. Milo lifts his head as I stare down.

“I know a hate fuck when I see one,” he explains casually with an arrogant smile. “I don’t care. I’ll take you in any way I can, and you are not having any reactions right now.”

Of course, he knows. I let go of his wrists, and Milo holds his arms up straight above his head.

Peeling his shirt off, I leave it right over his head, so his arms stay locked.

Milo is built like superman. He can tear through that flimsy shirt anytime he wants to.

But I do it anyway because I need visual proof that I am not what Mia suggested.

Right now, I am not a fucking victim.

I am not weak.

I am in charge.

I repeat those mantras. I scream them in my head and stare down at him. Milo lifts his head to catch my lips with his. I push him back down, refusing to let him have any say over this.

I remove my jacket, untie the knot of my wraparound dress to slide it off me, and undo my bra.

It’s a cold day, and the heat is turned off in this house. I should be freezing, but my whole body is on fire. My blood is sizzling, and my bones are burning.

Milo’s body vibrates under me. He sounds like he is going out of his mind. He is grunting like an animal with each thrust, trying to reign in control.

I roll my hips and grind into him harder. I can feel Milo writhing under me.

My palm lands flat on his chest while the other fists into his hair. I keep slamming into him until I come with tears seeping out of my eyes.

Numbness.

Oblivion.

I couldn’t find the weed, but a different drug gave me exactly what I needed.

Once again, the assailant who is the cause of this ruin is the one to calm me down.

Having seen me set off, Milo moves quickly to peel off the T-shirt banded around his arms and lifts to a seated position. He pulls me closer onto his lap.

With a strong hand on my waist, he starts to move me to his will as if I am a limp rag doll.

His eyes bore into mine, and he keeps up a steady punishing pace until I have no more energy left.

My senses heighten as he sends aftershocks throughout my overstimulated system.

Milo takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to flick it with his tongue. I immediately start to moan out another earth-shattering orgasm.

“Oh my God,” I throw my head back and feel Milo biting and nibbling on my neck.

“Fuck!” Milo pants during his own climax.

Milo barely pulls out of me before falling backward on the rug, with me on top of him.

He covers my back with both of his arms and buries his nose in my hair to sigh in content.

Slumping against his chest, I melt into him. I just threw the biggest tantrum. Hysterics. Theatrics.

And it feels like he just fucked it all out of me. My legs feel paralyzed, and I am… completely spent.

-----------

Milo

I lift my head to see a mass of black hair all over my chest and a chaotic scene around me.

I don’t recall drifting off.

I try to stretch one of my sore arms out. Fuck. I taste blood in my mouth. There is also dried blood on my chest and neck from where Raven scratched me.

The house is in worse condition than I am. The place looks like a hurricane hit it.

We knocked over the side table lamp. There is broken glass on the floor. While I was fucking her against the wall by the window, Raven grabbed the curtains. I pulled her to the floor before she let go. The curtain, along with the rod, fell down.

I can’t get myself to care about any of the damages right now, but I do take a mental note. I’ll clean up as much as I can. I will write them a check for the rest.

Raven is lying dormant on my chest, hopefully sleeping. My cock stirs every time I breathe her in, but I am careful not to move.

If she gets a couple hours of sleep it might be worth it to refrain from fucking her again right now.

I smooth down her hair by gently untangling the knots with my fingers. Her hair is a mess, she has hickeys all over her neck, and I bet her makeup is all smudged.

She looks like the chaos around us.

This scene is exactly what I wished for; burning everything down that’s in my path till we are both surrounded by nothing but chaos.

Our path is now clear with no external obstacles.

Now that my wish has been granted, why is it making me uneasy about the way this girl is unraveling? I can handle Raven becoming unhinged, but I don’t think she can.

I have never seen her lose her shit like this before. Perhaps my past actions pushed her much further than I ever thought possible.

Alternately, this could merely be a result of normal human anger bubbling to the surface.

Anger is a justified emotion based on our history.

While I felt obligated to defend the relationship we had and the memories I cherish, Raven’s assessment of our history is correct.

My assumption of a seventeen-year-old Raven’s level of maturity was wrong. She was an understanding person who lacked strong emotions.

I misjudged her non-reactive nature for maturity. I expected her to voice it if she didn’t want me as she did with other men.

But I wasn’t just another man. I held a position of power over her, and she felt pressured to go along with my desires.

I should have waited until Raven was eighteen to pursue her. I already knew that, but it’s been reasserted.

As a minor her decisions were not her own. I was a functioning adult by seventeen. We acted so alike; I assumed that she was too.

I never thought turning eighteen made a difference. It clearly did.

I had to hide our relationship because I didn’t wait for that milestone. I never realized it made her feel that cheap.

A tainted relationship at an early age can ruin your self-worth. I was older. It was my responsibility to understand that and address what was happening between us, even when she acted squeamishly.

My own stunted growth rivaled Raven’s.

Fucking absentee parents.

These bad decisions of mine led us both down a path of darkness.

I look down at the girl I dragged into the dark with me. I breathe her in deeply and finally feel her stir.

“Rave?” I say in my hoarse voice.

As soon as Raven lifts her head to look at me, I trail my fingers down and between us to slip into her folds. I have waited as long as I could.

Fuck. She is still dripping.

Lifting my own head, I tilt it to nibble at her ear. Both of our chests are moving fast. Our faces are covered with the same animalistic lust.

We have to talk about the fucked up shit from tonight, but not at this very moment. No words pass between us. We both know what we want.

“Get on your knees,” I order in a low voice, eyes boring into her with steel cold hunger.

“Only if you say please,” Raven tries to sass back.

I usually love her feisty side, but Raven is finally not shuddering out of fear. My mind is on a single track before that changes.

I flip her over so she is on her back.

“Milo!”

I lift up and flip her over again, so she is on her stomach. With a hand under her waist I pull her up to her knees. Raven’s palms naturally fall flat on the floor, so she is on all fours.

I grab the thong that she never took off, and slide it down to the back of her knees.

“I am dying to be inside you again,” I breathe. “Spread your legs wider.”

I take my jeans and boxers off and position myself behind her while Raven complies on shaky legs.

Prying her thighs open even more with one hand, I use the other to give myself a long stroke.

I stare at her perfect ass in the air, grab her hips tightly with both hands to pull her butt back, and sheath myself inside her in one hard thrust.

“Fuck,” Raven cries out and pushes her ass back even more.

I hold onto her hips tightly to restrict her movements. I pull back, only to slip inside at a more leisurely pace, struggling for control.

I need to watch her pussy slowly swallow my cock. I pull out and do it again, loving how her beautiful ass cheeks frame my soaked dick.

I keep at it until Raven starts to whimper, and her walls start to clamp down on me. But this is not how I plan for her to come tonight.

Raven twists her torso to look back when I abruptly withdraw from her.

-----------

Raven

One moment I am in the reach of oblivion again. The next moment Milo is pulling out of me.

He suddenly lifts me in the air, holding my body to him with my back to his front, one arm around my waist.

It’s dark. I can’t see a thing. I am levitating off the floor, and it’s scary as shit.

My eyes adjust by the time I am on my feet again. I am standing right behind the armchair, adjacent to the couch. A hand grabs the back of my neck and bends me over the chair.

“What the hell, Milo!”

The front of my body is pressed against the chair. I can feel Milo’s warmth behind me.

I manage to twist my head right as Milo’s weight and warmth disappear from my back.

Milo pulls my thong off completely, which was still around my ankle. He drops to his knees, his tongue landing on my cunt.

I hiss and grab onto the fabric of the chair.

He moves his tongue up to the crack of my butt and spreads my ass cheeks wide. I am stunned when he starts to lick the crack of my ass and keeps at it.

An unfamiliar type of pleasure starts to build inside me. My thighs start to quake, and the types of moans I never knew spills out of me.

Turning my head slightly, I watch Milo as he eats me out. My body is about to let go at just that sight. Right as I am about to do exactly that, Milo pulls away.

Before I can protest, he shoves into me and starts fucking me so hard that I would fall, taking the chair with me, if his arm didn’t snake around my waist.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t talk.

I can’t even moan.

Not when he is fucking me this roughly. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls so my back arches.

Milo leans in closer, trapping me between his large body and the chair. I try to rotate my hips and push back, desperately trying to reach the orgasm he denied, but he doesn’t budge.

He keeps me pinned and bent over, using the support to go in deeper, to fuck me even harder.

His fingers move to my pussy for only a moment. The same fingers, drenched in my juices, move to lubricate my crease.

My breathing stops.

I hear his heavy panting as well.

He plays with the crack of my butt before his index finger starts to push past the tight ring of my ass.

“Milo,” I blow out a breath in an attempt to relax my muscles.

I clench when his index finger starts to push in. It’s a little painful, but his wet finger is moving slowly.

He doesn’t go all the way in, teasing me with the tip, working his way in.

He has never done this to me before. I have never done this before, but if there is one person I would do this with, it would be him.

My heart is hammering away in anticipation. His finger moves a little deeper, and I clamp up on reflex.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers roughly, feeling my resistance.

“No,” I pant. “Keep going.”

Milo flattens his hand more on my back, further bending me down to give himself more access.

He slides his other hand down to my sex. His fingers work my core, distracting me from the pain.

His dick grinds into me at the same time. Suddenly, all of the pain is replaced with an unsurpassable sensation of double penetration.

Having distracted me enough, Milo pushes his finger further inside my ring.

I let out a yelp, but the body on top of mine easily holds me down in place when I try to scoot away.

Blowing another breath out with my mouth, I relax into his hold till Milo’s finger is all the way inside me.

“Fuck,” I bite my bottom lip, my grip tightening on the fabric of the chair. I am shaking like a leaf, and my legs are weak.

“You like this, baby?”

“Yes,” I breathe. I spread my legs wider to open up more for him, with my ass pushing back.

“You are so tight,” he grits out. “I love that you are squeezing my finger and my dick at the same time.”

The finger in my ass starts to move while the fingers on my sex press down.

I am about to fucking blackout. I don’t even know which sensation to focus on. The plethora of dirty words just add to the factors that are driving me crazy.

I am going to lose my mind if he doesn’t end this soon. “Milo, I can’t take it anymore,” I cry out, pleading for a release.

That jerk lets out a chuckle as if enjoying my struggle but decides to put me out of misery.

He suddenly attacks me manically. His fingers on my clit speed up immeasurably. His dick starts to let loose, thrusting into me as the finger in my ass does the same.

The balance between pain and pleasure rips through me and pushes me over the edge.

My vision burns bright white, and I come hard around his cock. The scream is stuck in my throat, making it even harder to breathe. All of my veins protrude when I hear Milo let go as well.

“Fuck,” he roars, shoving deeper into me. “I love you. I love you so fucking much,” Milo yells out the words that I have declined to hear all night long.

This is what he wanted. He wanted to distract me, and force me to listen to those words while we both finish.

Milo frantically thrusts and elongates my climax. I am about to pass out, but he is still fucking the life out of me, spilling every last bit of himself inside me.

Milo collapses on my back, taking me down with his weight. We hang off the back of the chair, his arms holding me against him.

Once our breathing evens out, he finally pulls out and lifts me up, dropping me on the couch that’s adjacent to the chair.

He grabs a quilt that’s lying dormant and climbs on to the couch with me, covering us both with the quilt. I bury my face against his neck, having taken a hit of the same drug that he craves.

That’s when I catch all the bruises on his body, along with his face. I am suddenly mortified at how I have been acting all night.

I understand how things got so out of control between us. I understood it a while ago. I am just frustrated at the situation.

But that doesn’t give me the right to do what I did. Throwing punches. Scratching Milo out. Inflicting physical pain on him.

In the last month, I haven’t seen Milo deal with anyone else’s shit like this. Yet, he spent hours dealing with my wrath, soothing me.

He simply endured my outbursts, my tantrums, and my assaults. No matter how much I egged him on, he kept his cool. Even when his sociopathic side came out, he didn’t lose his shit.

I did.

Stroking his cheek, I gently lean over to drop sweet kisses over all the scratches on his face, while my hand moves between us, needing to provide him with the same calming effect.

Milo groans when I wrap my fingers around the base of his dick. I drop towards the end of the couch.

My tongue swirls over his dick before I close my mouth over him. I hear his loud groan and feel his hands tugging at my hair.

I don’t stop until he comes down my throat.

By the time I crawl up his body, Milo is watching me closely as if trying to figure something out. A few minutes pass before I close my eyes in his hold.

Milo drops light kisses all over my face, only occasionally stopping to caress my cheeks. I am very aware that he is still watching me with wide apprehension.

CHAPTER 14

-----------

Raven

I wake up to find a pair of piercing green orbs. Milo is sitting on the couch next to my horizontal body. His boxers are back on while I only have a quilt covering my naked body.

I see the light seeping through the windows. It must be dawn.

“Milo?” I blink and try to get oriented. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Hours,” he replies. There is no amusement in his voice. Milo levels me with a steady gaze. He speaks in a muted tone. “I have been up all night.”

I slowly lift my head, trying to get myself situated. I push myself off the couch to sit and try to wake up fully.

“Last night, you displayed more emotions than I have ever seen you display. But you are not a reactive person,” Milo is talking like he is doing a recap of our story. Almost like a narrative. “It takes you forever to analyze and organize your thoughts. I have never even so much as seen you stomp your foot in anger.”

“So?” I don’t even attempt to hide my confusion at his odd behavior.

“You lost it last night,” he states quietly. Milo is assessing me like he has figured me out for the first time. “You threw a shit storm. You went off the rail with actual physical attacks.”

Milo grabs one of my arms to pull me closer to him.

“Were you upset last night because you were frustrated about the progress of our relationship? Or were you falling apart because you got that text from Reid?” His shaky voice matches his trembling breathing. “It’s killing me right now to think that he could have this effect on you. You can deny it, but I already know that you gave me up because being with me hurt him. Yet, you were ready to be with him knowing it would destroy me.”

I don’t respond. Milo’s fingers flex into my arms. He leans in, his voice is muffled.

“Do you love him?” he grits out as if he can’t stomach the words, let alone the thought. “Is that what this is about?”

Milo’s anger is palpable again. This topic is a trigger for him.

I gently push Milo off me and stand to gain distance. Grabbing his jacket off the floor, I wrap it around my naked body and move to the couch’s end.

I pull my knees to my chest, resting my chin on my knees, and stare at the man on the other end.

I don’t have to reflect on my feelings. I already know what they are. I have known for a while.

I am just considering the potential fallout from everything else I am about to disclose.

I have been angry all night, but I need to get over it. I have to speak from my heart. I have to be honest with him.

“I loved Reid a long time ago, when we were kids,” I say evenly.

Milo is quiet. My trepidation remains as I await his response.

“And now? Do you still love him?”

“No. Once we grew up… he became my family. That's all. I already told you that it wasn’t a romantic connection for me. Reid is aware of that as well. He simply wanted me to try for more. And I did because he has always been my other half.”

Milo scoffs. “That sounds like love to me.”

“No, Milo. I don’t love him,” I say patiently. “I love you.”

-----------

Milo

My heart stops.

Time stops.

Everything has come to a screeching halt.

Years have gone by, hoping to hear those words from her. Somewhere deep down I already knew that she loved me, but I assumed those were words she would never express.

Now that she has said them, they sound unreal. I need to hear them again to solidify them. I want to glue those words to this earth, so they could never float away. So, those words could never be unsaid again.

My heart is hammering much too hard, and my ears are ringing as if I just had the best fuck of my life.

It’s a different kind of high. I never thought anything on earth could be better than our physical connection. I was wrong. This is better.

“Did you just say—”

“I love you,” Raven says easily and without any hesitation.

I am gaping like an idiot. I need to move. I need to get up and collect that beautiful girl in my arms, but I am completely immobile.

“I love you too,” I finally say in an awed voice. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” she responds slowly. “I believe you.”

Okay. I take that in stride. She believes that I love her, and she finally told me that she loves me. We just overcame our biggest hurdle. We can overcome everything else too.

“I know we have some work ahead of us. I’ve been talking to some specialists—”

“Milo,” Raven gently cuts me off. “There are a few things I have to tell you about that I was hoping to avoid. However, it’s clear you need to hear them to understand what’s been going on.”

Raven’s tone is deceptively calm. I might have finally heard the words, but her voice tells me it’s not about to change our lives the way I hoped.

“Okay,” I respond cautiously.

“You were right. I did break things off with you because I found out how Reid felt about me. I couldn’t do that to him. He is my best friend. We have this abnormal connection that’s hard for others to understand. You know that,” she says nervously as if pleading for me to get it.

I nod. I don’t care if she was in love with him in the past. It doesn’t define our future.

“I do understand,” I start apprehensively. “The past doesn’t matter to me. I want us to move forward. I understand if you need to start slow. We can try therapy first—”

Raven crawls back towards me. She lies down on the couch, facing away from me. I lie down next to her and pull her into my arms, perplexity resonating within me.

Her tranquility is eerie. She is so calm that I have no idea how to handle her.

“Milo,” Raven speaks in a soft voice. “I hoped not to tell you because I knew you were going to ask me to go to therapy, or you were going to blame yourself. But it seems like if I don’t tell you, you are still going to keep trying to find a way to fix me, and you can’t.”

Turning her over, I lie sideways to look at her face. “Tell me."

Raven looks nervous. Her eyes dart to me, but then she looks away. “When I first moved to Paris, I stayed with my mom for a few weeks before moving out to room with girls from the internship I was doing.”

Of all the times I went to Paris, Raven only met me once; the first time.

She was staying with her mom before moving into the dorms. She had no choice but to see me because Theressa invited me over for dinner. After she moved into the dorms, Raven refused to see me again.

“When I lived with Mom, she was too busy with her parties and her life. And it was the first time in my life that I didn’t have Reid’s friendship. With everything that happened right before… he was the person I needed the most,” Raven looks at me nervously.

“I get it,” I encourage her to continue.

“I kept having these nightmares. I’d wake up every night, screaming—” Raven’s eyes dart back to my face again.

I stroke her cheek. “I am not offended if the nightmares are about me. Talk to me.”

We have to talk about her trauma, even if I am the man who caused it. Raven bites her bottom lip.

“I kept having the same nightmare… It was about the night before I left for Paris. It was about… what happened between us. The setting or the backdrop would be different, but it would always end the same, with you on top of me. I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I’d wake up, and I’d feel paralyzed, like I am still trapped in the dream. Sometimes, I’d dream that I climaxed which would make me shudder and break down in tears. Other times, I wouldn’t even be able to tell if I was dreaming or if it was real.”

It’s an awful topic, but if that night is her trigger then I have to understand it better. And I have to ask her all of those hard questions.

“Why that night?" I whisper. "It happened other times before that night and after you moved back. What made you have nightmares about that night specifically?”

Raven shrugs. “I guess it was the first time it truly wasn’t my choice. Even after I came back, none of the other times felt as out of control as that night. Maybe it’s because I was younger. I don’t know. I just… it was the moment the concept of safety and trust felt eradicated. No matter what I do, I can’t shake that feeling away. It felt… violent between us.”

It was.

I figured the same thing that very night. I saw the look on Raven’s face, and I knew everything was about to change. I truly terrified her within that one moment.

I wait to see if Raven will add anything more. When she doesn't, I gently stroke her cheek. “I am sorry. You know I wasn’t—”

“I know,” she says softly. “It took me a long time to understand how differently we perceived the same situation.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I feel like you are a part of me, like you are my own body and soul. I didn’t understand that you couldn't see it that way.”

It sounds ridiculous as I verbalize it, but it’s the truth. It’s difficult to view what happened as a violation when I believe she is a part of me.

“Milo, I get it. I can choose to understand what happened between us, but I can’t help how it makes me feel. Understanding something does not take away the pain or the trauma from that moment. I can’t stop the memory from terrorizing my mind.”

“You are right. You can’t,” I sigh.

Raven is right. She can’t help how she feels about that situation, nor can she force her mind to feel okay about it. And I have no idea how to make it okay again. Which is why I think we need professional help.

But Raven seems against that idea.

“I thought… you reacted positively," I try to explain. "On some level, I thought you were fighting yourself and needed me to decide so you wouldn’t have to.”

Raven takes a deep breath. “It made it worse. It tipped the iceberg when I reacted positively to a moment that truly scared me. I just needed to leave after it all happened. I was barely thinking straight when I flew out to Paris. And since Mom was barely there, I didn’t realize how bad it was getting until I moved in with the other two girls. I’d wake up screaming, and one time I started punching the wall next to my bed till my knuckles bled. The girls didn’t want to live with me anymore, so I moved out.”

“Rave—”

“I still worked with the mentor from my internship. At that time… I couldn’t even bear it if anyone touched me. I’d have adverse reactions if they did. One day, my mentor was showing us the best way to cut fragile material. He touched my hand to move it over the cloth, and I tried to stab him with my scissors.”

“Baby—”

“I got kicked out of my internship. Later, I spoke to my mentor. The remote internship was required for me to graduate high school and to attend college at Paris School of Fashion. My mentor took pity on me. He said if I got help, he would mark the internship as completed. So as not to ruin my future, he wouldn’t report what I did. I realized he was right. So, I tried therapy, but it was counterproductive. It just left me feeling exhausted. I didn’t want to talk about it, especially with someone I didn’t know. Then Mia emailed me, asking to visit. She stuck by me that whole summer. Suddenly, I felt okay again. She was better than therapy.”

“And after Mia left?” I ask quietly.

“It was hard after Mia left,” Raven admits. “At college, I had already gained a reputation as the crazy girl who stabs teachers and punches walls,” she laughs, shaking her head.

I am missing the humor in this situation. I almost stare at her in disbelief for trying to make light of this conversation.

“I didn’t speak the language," Raven continues when she catches my glare, "so I only socialized with the few brave souls who dared to approach me, but it was all meaningless connections. I wanted to be around my family and counted down the days until Mia’s next break. She became my lifeline.”

My throat is completely dry. I know what happened next,  as realization dawns on me.

“I took that away from you," I say in a horrified voice. "I wouldn’t let you see Mia anymore.”

Rave only gives me an awkward smile but doesn’t verbally confirm.

I brush her cheeks with my knuckles softly.  “I know it was all really hard for you, but we can move forward. You can go back to therapy. I’ll go with you, and we’ll work on it together.”

Raven gently moves my hand from her cheek.

“That year, I checked myself into a depression treatment center outside of Paris.”

-----------

“That year, I checked myself into a depression treatment center outside of Paris.”

I take an audible sharp breath.

That’s when the truth hits me.

She is never going to forgive me, nor will she ever be okay around me.

It’s selfish for that to be the first thought to cross my mind in light of what Raven is disclosing, but I can’t help it.

For the entire Sinclair clan, there is only one fate that has always been worse than death.

Tessa's face, the life of a rotting, breathing corpse.

I push myself off the couch to stand up. Raven is still lying on her back.

Her eyes follow me as I pace towards the fireplace and make my way back. I have no fucking idea what to say or how to react. My insides are twisted into a knot.

Fuck. I can’t stand still, nor can I sit.

“How long were you at the center?” I manage to rasp out.

“Three months,” she sighs. “Everyone thought I was still going to classes. I had some money saved up that I used to pay for the center.”

I nod my head as I keep pacing back and forth. “What made you leave the center?”

Please tell me because I was all better. But that’s not how this works.

Raven shrugs. “I didn’t find the place helpful. Plus, I received an email from a mutual friend group that Reid and I share,” Raven mutters. “They were tired of the feud between Reid and I. They wanted both of us to come on a trip to Costa Rica. Reid shockingly agreed so I checked out of the facility,” Raven shrugs as if it’s the only logical reason to leave.

“Oh,” I can barely keep my voice steady.

As horrible as all of this is, maybe it will finally help me understand her symptoms. I come back to the couch to sit next to her.

“What were you treated for at the center?”

Raven looks at me nervously. “Depression, anxiety, symptoms of trauma, panic, nightmares. You know, the usual.” Raven tries to smile, as if trying to make the awkward situation somewhat better.

My whole body freezes. My muscles are tense from head to toe.

It wasn’t hyperbole. If anything, Raven downplayed it. I ruined her life. Raven can say she loves me, but it doesn’t change anything.

My sins will never leave us.

“I know what you are thinking,” Raven’s voice is still too fucking placid. “It wasn’t because of what happened between us. I swear.”

Raven runs her hand through my hair and looks at me intently as if that will force me to believe her.

“It sure sounds like it,” I scoff.

Raven shakes her head at me. “No, Milo. This is after my parents sent me an email telling me how they never wanted me. My pride wouldn’t let me come back to New York to live with my real family. I lost you and Reid. Mia sealed the deal. I was depressed and lonely because I was exhausted from therapy and the long recovery time wasn’t improving my mood. It was a result of feeling hopeless.”

Why is she so damn calm about all of this? I want to shake her till she throws another fit. I was wrong.

That was the normal response. I wish she would go back to hitting me. Fuck.

“Why would you check out of the center if you were in that headspace?” I ask rigidly.

“Because Milo, that’s not what I needed. I told you, I wanted to be around my family. I saw Reid for the first time in years, and we made up. It was my last true human connection. He pulled me out of that darkness.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Raven’s genuine smile lights up her beautiful face. “For the last two years, he never stopped being my constant. I owe him my life for helping me turn it around. So, when he asked me for something more, you have to understand why I couldn’t refuse.”

Suddenly, I am not so jealous of Reid, their bond, or whatever the hell she might have felt for him.

None of that shit matters anymore. Whatever pulled her out of that misery is worth it.

I had murderous urges when I found out that Raven was entertaining a relationship with Reid.

All I could focus on was my anger at her for lying. I stooped low enough to threaten murder on my brother, but I didn’t consider the situation I put her in.

I doused her life with fear, then refused to leave her alone unless she promised to give us another chance.

All the while, Reid picked up the pieces of the consequences. My actions pushed her into his arms because he is a better man than I am.

Even I have to admit that.

When I read Reid’s text to Raven, my stupefied self could only stare at the words and think about the better man on that message’s other side.

Reid: If I keep being your friend, then I’ll never be happy. If you care about me even a little, then please stop explaining. Please stop calling. I don’t want to hear it. Just let me go.

I’m proud of Reid; of the man he has become. I did a lot of things wrong, but I raised my siblings right.

Reid is strong. He chose something better for himself than I ever could for myself. He chose a path of self-improvement. I chose a path of darkness that engulfed the woman I love.

I brush some of the hair off of Raven’s face.

“I do understand,” I say quietly. “You made all of this progress because he helped you. But ever since you came back, you have been slipping. All of your symptoms are back even though you are surrounded by family,” I state my observation matter of factly.

We both stop talking, letting the words sink in.

Raven doesn’t have to respond. Every specialist I spoke to said the same thing. You are supposed to avoid trauma triggers, not indulge in them.

Her biggest trigger is, and will always be me.

She was right. I don’t deserve her forgiveness, and I don’t deserve to say those words to her.

The thought of how my love destroyed her is ripping through me. The worst thing I ever did to her was loving her.

My love is tainted, but somewhere along the line, Raven accepted this tainted love of mine.

Whether she knows it or not, she hates herself for accepting this flawed love while hers remains pure.

Is that why she keeps hurting herself?

“Did you ever engage in self-harm before, or is that new?” I ask that question a little too quickly.

Raven’s head snaps towards me. She quickly shakes her head. “I-I... I-I’m not,” she stammers before gaining control. “I am not trying to hurt myself. It.. it’s just a coping mechanism to keep myself centered and lucid, so I don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid, as in hurting me like you tried to hurt your mentor when you felt threatened?” I ask plainly. “You view me as a threat. You hurt yourself to suppress the instinctive urge you feel to hurt me.” There is no disdain in my voice. I am simply stating the facts.

Raven will continue to hurt herself as a reminder to stop the reflexive urge she feels to hurt me. That's the fact.

I kept thinking that time will heal all, but everyday she has been getting worse. One day, I am going to cause her to snap.

She already came pretty close last night.

I chalked it up to anger. That could have been true if it was anyone other than Raven. Knowing who Raven is and how she acted last night, it’s clear that she is breaking.

“Milo,” Raven’s eyes widen. “That’s not true.”

“If it’s not true, then let’s seek professional help. We can fix this together.”

Raven takes a sharp breath at just the idea. “No, Milo!”

“I have been speaking to a great therapist. There is also a center we can visit—”

Her terror-filled eyes mull over my face. “See, this is exactly the problem,” Raven’s voice starts shaking. “This is why I am telling you all of these things. You keep looking at me like I am Tessa. Like I am a problem that you need to fix when it was the years of treatment that exhausted me when I didn’t see results. That was the reason why I felt hopeless. It wasn’t because of what happened between us.”

“Last night, you told me that you blame me for scaring you," I argue. "It’s clearly not a manageable kind of fear. The last few weeks are proof of that.”

“But we were together last night. I didn’t experience any symptoms afterward.”

“That’s because you experienced it beforehand,” I say incredulously. “Raven, you went off the charts.”

“So, I am not even allowed to be upset at the things you have done?” she asks angrily.

I rub my temples, trying to reel in my thoughts. “Of course you are. But last night was extreme. Not to mention, sometimes you experience symptoms, and sometimes you don’t. It only needs to get out of control once for you to hurt yourself. You have already been doing that.”

“I might have some adverse reactions,” Raven's voice rises out of anger, “but that doesn’t mean therapy or conventional treatment is the answer. It never worked for Tessa. It didn’t work for me either. I despised every moment it. It was a horrifying reminder of potentially living Tessa’s life. Why can’t you accept that everyone copes differently?”

An argument is warring in my head, to find holes in what she is saying. But none are strong enough because she has a point.

I realize that I am fighting a losing battle with this topic. It doesn’t mean that I’ll stop fighting.

“You won’t become Tessa. I won’t let you. I will be there every step of the way.”

Raven looks at me with disappointment. She looks crestfallen. “After a lifelong struggle with Tessa, I thought you, of all people, would understand me.”

I do understand. I don’t want to force her after what she has been through, but I also don’t see another alternative for us.

I stroke her cheek with a thumb, trying to make her see my side.

“Raven, living without you feels like death for me. I am petrified of crawling through life without you, counting down every second till the next day. The only way I don’t see that happening is if we change our current situation. Otherwise, every day it’s going to get worse. Your nightmares. Your triggers. If we just talk to someone—”

“It will be worse if I go through all of that shit again,” Raven says, her voice finally breaking. “Watching me being like her will destroy you. Watching you see me that way will destroy me.”

“We won’t get destroyed.” The frustration bubbles inside of me as well.

“That’s what Uncle Reese used to tell Tessa,” Raven forces me to face the truth of our situation. “He did everything to help the woman he loves, and to give his children what they needed to succeed. He never once complained. He always worked like a dog. Now, you are doing the same things. I would never want that life for you, with a partner who doesn't carry the load and the unknown reasons that set her off. Life of walking on eggshells, hoping that today is somehow better than the day before.”

“We won’t be like them,” I say in disbelief.

We won’t because it’s her and I, it’s different. How can she even compare us to them?

“You have to give us a real chance,” I emphasize. “For God’s sake, Rave. I am causing you anxiety attacks. That breaks the bare minimum requirement to be in a relationship.” I scoff at the ridiculous situation and her refusal to see it. “I am at fault, but you are giving up too. We can at least get help to overcome it. We will find a place—”

“No!” Raven exclaims. “I have already gone through that hell. I can’t do it again.”

“You have to,” I assert.

We are both at a standstill. Each person is trying to get the other to understand without speaking any more words. The words are too honest, too jarring, and it’s shedding the truth to our heartbroken reality.

Raven places a hand on my cheek.

“I can’t help how I feel,” she says softly. “I can only control my actions. My action is choosing something that doesn’t destroy us both, even though my feeling is that I love you—”

“You don’t love me!” I jerk my face away as my anger takes full hold. “If you did, then you would agree to what I am suggesting so we can be together. So, don’t say things that you don’t mean!”

I stiffen as soon as I realize the irony behind my words. And it smacks me right in the face why she hated hearing those words for all these years.

Because right now, I don’t believe her either. And I hate her for saying those words to me. Those are empty words when your actions are contradictory.

If she loves me, why wouldn't she give this a chance? There is no way for us to move forward if she is constantly terrified of me.

“But I do mean it,” Raven argues in her kind fucking tone, bringing my face back to hers. “I just can’t put you or everyone I love through that. I can’t put myself through that. Please don’t ask me for this. It will destroy me. It will make me want to give up, just like how Tessa wanted to give up living—”

My own breathing stops again at that reminder. I immediately pull her to my chest.

“Shhh…” I soothe Raven, running my fingers through her hair.

She is right. I am being selfish because my need only consists of being with Raven.  I can’t see past her. I never could.

We both lived that life firsthand, the on and off life, going through useless treatments. It’s exhausting.

Worse, it might end in a world without Raven. And I don’t know how to exist on this planet if she doesn’t exist on it anymore either.

“We will find another way to cope," Raven's  hushed voice reaches me. "If we give it some time, things will change—”

“It’s been four years, Rave. You healed. He healed you, and I am destroying you.”

“That’s not true,” Raven shakes her head.

I don’t respond because it is true.

My chest expands at the persistent thought that’s been on my mind for days. Now I understand why they say shit like if you love something then set it free.

In the end, that thought doesn’t cross my mind out of concern over a taboo, forbidden relationship.

Nor due to fear of our families or the stigma from society.

It’s not because of some stupid love triangle between brothers, or other dramatic telenovela reasons.

That thought is only crossing my mind because of the most human reason of all, our own demons.

It stems from the agony of not finding an alternative that won’t destroy the woman I love without giving her up. In many ways, I fell in love with her even more than before. I finally love her more than I love myself.

I finally love her enough to say the words that I never thought I’d utter to her. "We can do this however you want. I won’t force you to seek professional guidance.  But if being around me means that you are going to get worse, then I'll let you go. I'll do anything if it means that I don't have to watch you get destroyed."

“I can’t watch you get destroyed either,” she whispers back. Raven holds me tighter as if she is trying to mold me into her. I can barely hear her against my chest. “What happens now?”

Silence. The room is engulfed with a suffocating silence instead of an answer that reflects our truth. There is no acceptable answer or solution that either of us wants to hear.

So, there can only be silence.

CHAPTER 15

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Milo

The room has been filled with pin-drop silence for minutes. We are both quiet.

The direction of this conversation is leading towards something neither of us want to acknowledge.

Instead, I stare at her, hoping to somehow freeze this moment. How can two people can love each other this damn much, but it’s still not enough?

An unbearable anguish has been battling inside me since that realization. It’s wreaking havoc on my organs, my mind, and my heart.

Our future seems too bleak. I need a better outcome, even if it’s imaginary.

“I am going to marry you in the Greek isles,” I finally break the silence. “You always wanted to visit Greece.”

“Milo—”

“We could go to the Amalfi Coast afterward, for our honeymoon. I went there once, and I always wanted to take you there.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asks faintly.

I reposition myself on the couch so I can take her into a spooning position, with an arm around her waist.

I am aware of how far-fetched my thoughts are based on what we discussed.

“Humor me,” I drop my forehead on her shoulder blade. “You like imaginary worlds and hypothetical situations. Make one with me.”

Raven stays quiet. She draws lines with her fingers on the arm I have around her waist.

“Rave,” I telepathically plead for her to give in. I just had to talk about something that I never thought possible. I have to find a way to deal with this.

“Maybe a sunset ceremony in Santorini,” Raven sighs. “I have heard that Santorini has the best sunsets in the world.”

I kiss her temple, grateful that she is going along with this. “Then, we could come back to New York and redo my condo, the way you like it.”

I see a frown forming. Raven is probably thinking about those color swatches again.

“I have to tell you something,” Raven says hesitantly. “I can’t differentiate between egg-white, white, and off-white.”

I start laughing at her delayed honesty. “I know, baby. I asked you to choose between those three colors, and you circled the beige.”

Raven lets out a laugh, which still pulls at every single one of my heartstrings.

“Fine! I will focus on my new business so that I can become a huge success. You can become my trophy husband, and you can re-decorate the condo with as much egg-white or off-white as you please.”

“Hmm,” I contemplate. “I don’t know about that, but I will take a salary cut and hire someone for my travel-related responsibilities. Then I don’t have to be gone all the time.”

“Not bad,” Raven quips. Then she says in a more dreamy voice, “After that, Dad’s license to practice medicine will be reinstated. Mom will start a new line, which will become a success.”

“And Tessa will go back to her old job,” I offer.

Raven smiles. “With my new successful business, I can help you take care of any other expenses for our families. Then you don’t have to work so damn much.”

I nod behind her. “We can finally start our lives together.”

“Tessa will start a new trial for a wonder drug that will cure her immediately.”

“Reid will find someone else to fall in love with, and he’ll forgive us both.”

“I’ll stop having nightmares.” Raven twists her body to face me. “After that?”

“After that,” I lean back to give her a broad smile, “I’m going to knock you up.”

Raven’s mouth drops open at my suggestion. “Oh, yeah?”

“Hell yeah!”

“How many kids are we going to have?” Raven asks, lost in our own world, one that’s not so marred by our scars, our obligations, and the truth of our reality.

“Two,” I declare without hesitation. “A boy and a girl. Then we will have one of each.”

Even from the side angle, I can see her scowl. “I barely want one. I can’t handle two.”

“You should always have a spare kid in case something happens to one of them.”

“You are so fucking morbid,” Raven mockingly gasps. “Did you just kill off one of our imaginary children?”

“I thought you only wanted one,” I tilt my face in confusion.

“Well, I didn’t want to kill the other one. I was just gonna give it away or leave it at the dumpster.”

Laughter rips through my chest. “Both of our kids are going to look like me. They’ll be too good looking to be dumpster babies.”

Raven turns towards me and raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me. Both?”

“I don’t want no damn kids that look like vampire Snow White,” I look at her, my voice thick with amusement.

“Vampire Snow White?” I can see her biting her cheek, so she doesn’t laugh.

I shoot her a playful smile. “Do you want our kids to be so pale that they look like the children who were taken away and locked up in a basement?”

“Oh my God,” Raven gives out the laugh she has been holding back and punches my arm that’s around her waist. “You are so rude!”

“If they get your dark vampirini hair and pasty skin, our kids will be bullied mercilessly in school. We can’t have that. No! They should definitely look like me.”

“If they look like you, then you can keep them,” she pouts. “I don’t want them.”

“You have to admit that I am the looker in the family. Wouldn’t you want this,” I gesture towards my face and body with a hand wave, “for our children?”

“Shut up,” Raven laughs at our parallel future and turns her head to inspect my face, probably to find something she dislikes so she can insult my physical attributes.

“It won’t happen, baby,” I tell her reassuringly.

“What won’t happen?”

“You won’t find anything that you dislike about my pretty face.”

“You fucking narciss—”

I cut her off by bringing my lips down to hers. Pulling back, I gently bite her bottom lip. “So, baby, how did you like our world?”

“I don’t think I can live outside of it.” Raven brings her lips back to mine and moans when our tongues collide.

I search her eyes. “Are you sore? I was rough before—”

“I don’t care. I want you,” Raven whispers the only motivation I need.

This isn’t the time for our usual animalistic lust. Somehow, she knows it too. I enter her gently and make her look at me while I fuck her slowly.

Raven holds on to me and doesn’t look away once. We both come staring at each other as if we can see through each other’s soul.

And it’s fucking perfect in every fucking way.

-----------

I feel Raven’s missing warmth even before I wake up, very aware that a full stream of daylight is greeting me through the patio doors.

My muscles are still sore as hell from last night and this morning. I stumble over to the kitchen sink to wash my face to clean the dried blood.

Groaning inwardly, I start cleaning up the destruction and chaos surrounding me. I think we broke at least two lamps. Even sweeping off the glass is dangerous.

I pull up my phone to open the Airbnb app. The house is not rented out for the upcoming week, so I reserve the next two nights, which I’m sure will confuse the owners since I am their neighbor. But it will give me enough time to have maid service clean up this mess before their next set of guests arrive. They can charge me for any remaining damages.

Once I finish getting dressed, I finally make my way back home. Taking the stairs two at a time, I charge towards Raven’s room to check on her.

I throw the door open and call for her when I take in a very familiar scene.

I blink. Suddenly, I wonder if I should start pinching myself as well to see if this is real. I stay frozen, staring at the room in front of me.

There are clothing piles everywhere. The room has been ransacked. It’s been torn apart. But it tells a very clear story. I have seen her room in this very state before.

There is an envelope with my name on it. As I read the note, I slowly slide my butt down the bedroom door until it hits the hardwood floor. I wrap my arms around my bent knees and stare at the chaos in front of me, with the note hanging off my hand.

Raven left and once more without saying goodbye.

You lied.

-Raven

Two Hours Ago

-----------

Raven

I am exhausted. Both physically and mentally. Milo and I had sex, we fell asleep, spoke, and then put it on repeat.

I was sore by the time we had sex again, but I didn’t care. I wanted the pain with pleasure. It was the perfect paradox for our type of love.

But it wasn’t painful. It was gentle in a way I couldn't describe. It was the first and only time I felt like I was making love. Yes. We fucking made love instead of… well fucking.

We stared at each other and even said the words when we came, and it was fucking perfect.

Milo touched my soul in a way that I can’t explain. I never knew it could be that powerful to be with someone. I watched him sleep for hours afterward.

I know that he hates himself for hurting me. He never fully viewed what happened between us as wrong. But none of that matters now.

The only thing that matters is an outcome that will allow us to move forward with our relationship.

So, while Milo slept I hoped for things to be different. I hoped to be stronger for the man I love because I believe that my love for him will help me fight off whatever trepidition that still remains.

However, by the time I woke up for the second time this morning, that hope vanished.

I woke up thinking Milo was on top of me, choking me— that he was inside me.

I looked around for someone who could help. I turned my head, only to find the root of my horrors lying naked, wrapped around my body.

Fear has a funny way of ruling over all of your other emotions. But fear doesn’t begin to describe this dread. I couldn’t scream for help. I couldn’t escape the horrors in my mind, nor the paralysis that followed.

I couldn’t stand up to get away from him, which was the only thing I wanted at that moment.

It's a panic that shakes me to my very core until I can’t recognize myself. I managed to roll over to fall on the floor, shaking for minutes on end.

Milo was still asleep, exhausted from our night together. I just kept thinking that he would wake up... and turn my nightmares into a reality.

Once the trepidation passed, I accepted the truth. Even after a night like that, Milo remains the one nightmare that I can’t conquer.

Which brings me to the here and now, as I lie on the floor. I look at the sleeping man on the couch.

He is not that same beautiful man from earlier this morning.

I know deep down that I love him, but every inch of my body is screaming to grab the knife from the kitchen and stab him with it.

Before these kinds of thoughts can take root, I lift myself from the floor and stand on shaky legs.

I have to make a fast exit before I do something impulsive or harmful.

I don’t know where Milo and I stand after last night. Our relationship’s progression is not promising, but the idea of us separating is causing an unfathomable type of agony.

Just thinking about not seeing him, touching him, it’s causing the type of emptiness I never thought was possible to experience. It’s unbearable.

We even created a parallel future and universe to give ourselves a happily ever after, one that might not be written in our stars.

The truth is, I wouldn’t be the kind of mother we painted in that world. I’d be like Tessa, ruining my children’s lives while a doting husband cares for me until one day he starts to resent me.

My love entails wanting the best for Milo, with or without me in his life. He deserves a partner that helps him lessen his burden, not a partner who is the burden he has to carry. If I can't be that partner for him, I know that I'd let him go instead of dragging him down.

I grab my jacket and dress off the floor. Sliding the patio door open, I step outside in the cold to feel the cool air on my skin and breathe in the fresh air.

I need to find a solution for us.

When I came back to the Sinclair home, I only expected Milo to be my worst nightmare, and he was. But I also got to see the selfless man who quietly takes care of everyone, expecting nothing in return.

I see the man who diligently pays attention to every one of my habits, my interests. A person who makes me feel like I am the center of their world.

He is a good man who made some terrible mistakes. I understand that now. Nonetheless, it makes me happy to know that I love a good man. And I do. I love him with all of my heart.

So, I have to stay focused and steady on the course I have set. Respect. Trust. Feeling safe.

As long as he keeps working on giving me those three things, I can continue to look forward to turn our parallel universe into a reality.

How he makes me feel... I never thought it was possible to feel that way about another person.

I never explored that side of me with Milo back then. It wasn't until I came back here did I realize that I was missing a part of myself. It's ironic because that the same missing piece is the cause of my downfall at times.

Irony and paradox has always played a big factor in our story.

In the end, Milo falls for a woman who is just like the mother he resents.

In the end, Raven, who was terrified at the idea of birthing Milo’s devil spawns, creates an alternate universe to bear children for the same man because the alternate possibility is too heartbreaking.

I stand in the cold and breathe in the fresh air. As the air cools my flushed skin, I spy my phone lying motionless on the deck.

I forgot about it last night, but it looks like it has been left out on the porch all night long.

Walking over, I grab my phone and… find several missed calls from Reid.

Along with several texts, asking to call him back.

Even an email.

My phone is almost dead. Instead of calling Reid back, I rush home, taking quick footsteps.

Marching to my room, I lock the door behind me and plug my charger into the phone.

I sit down to read the email first. It’s a long email and from the looks of it, a very eloquent one.

Reid starts the email talking about the very first memory of his life. It’s of me. Not of his parents. Not of his siblings. But it’s a memory of me.

The very first memory etched on his mind is of us eating chocolates in my bed when we were three years old.

I remember because it’s also my first memory. We weren’t allowed to eat sugar, but we stole some from the pantry.

Reid talks about how he can’t remember a single day in his life when he wasn’t in love with me.

He talks about the day we decided to call each other with corny names: stud and beautiful. We saw it in a movie. It started off as a joke. We were being cheesy. Soon it was abnormal not to say it to refer to the other.

Reid also talks about how miserable he is without me, how incomplete he feels, how he feels like a walking corpse all the time. He has been spending his days drinking and smoking pot.

The email goes on to discuss the day he caught me with Milo. It tore him up. It crushed him to such an extent that he didn’t think he could ever recover.

He explains how awful that visual was, and the consequent moments when he had to watch me sleep in Milo’s arms. It drove him to the difficult decision to leave this house after my Dad confirmed that my concussion was mild. He couldn’t bear to see us together.

I understand his decision. I am not sure why he is explaining himself. He doesn’t have to.

However, when I get to the last two paragraphs of the email, his explanation connects.

I had to leave. I couldn’t watch you with him. All this time I thought you chose him over me. That was before Mia told me what happened. I am sorry. I am so so sorry. I didn’t know what he was doing to you. I had no idea what my own brother was capable of. I can’t believe Milo is so fucked up in the head. I should have seen it sooner. It all makes sense now why you suddenly left New York and why you didn’t want to move back to that house.

Please forgive me, Rave. I should have been the one to protect you. Instead, I left you there. Milo will pay for what he did. I will be there as soon as I can.

I love you,

Reid

I read the last two paragraphs three more times before the shock finally wears off.

Fuck, Mia. What have you done?

With shaky hands, I tap the call icon and fumble with the phone. I drop the phone twice.

I finally take a deep breath. I have to be somewhat rational to deal with this and calm Reid down from whatever he plans to do right now.

I tap the button to call him.

Reid picks up on the very first ring.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I hope you are enjoying Milo and Raven's story thus far. If you have a moment, please leave me a review on Goodreads or Amazon, or tell a friend. For self-published authors, your word of mouth is everything.

Feel free to subscribe to my website for Chapter 1 of Book 3 (Coming Soon):

https://wordsaremyfriends.wixsite.com/drethianis

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BONUS BOOK

Due to popular demand, I have written a short book about a certain side character. Turn the page for a complimentary copy of Book 1.5: Desolate.

Desolate is another version of Book 1: Quarantined, written from an alternate point of view. Desolate and Isolation can be read in any order. This book is simply an extra perspective for those who requested it.

Fair Warning: Stop reading now if you are a die-hard Milo and Raven fan.

DESOLATE

-----------

Book 1.5

CHAPTER 1

July 18th, 2013

-----------

Reid

Asher fucking Huntzburger. Again. I knew it.

This summer sucks. I spent the summer watching Raven and Asher make googly eyes at each other during these stupid parties.

I want to punch that fucker in the face. Rip all of his limbs out of his stupid body and rearrange them. Give him hands for legs, and legs for hands. I like to see him try to make a move on her then.

She wants him again. I can tell by the way they are eye fucking each other from across the room. If she sneaks away with him again… I can’t stand here one more time and do nothing.

I can tell on her.

I shouldn’t but I can tell Milo that Raven is sneaking around to make out with Asher. Raven is fifteen and Asher is eighteen. Milo will have a field day with that.

Milo will kick Asher’s sorry little butt. Asher will never be invited to Milo’s parties again. If I never have to see Asher’s face, that is perfectly fine by me.

Hell, I can go over and beat up his tiny little frame myself. That’s exactly the reason I started working out with Milo in the first place.

So I can Kick. Asher’s. Ass.

But I can’t do any of those things. I can’t beat up Asher without risking Raven asking some serious questions about our relationship. Or lack thereof.

I can’t tell on her either. She’ll hate me if she finds out I tarnished her name in front of her precious Milo.

Lord forbid if someone was to ruin her perfect track record in front of him.

Leave it to Raven to be obsessed with every male in the planet except for me. It’s one thing to hate Asher fucking Huntzburger. But hating my own brother, that’s low.

Well, hate might be a strong word but ever since Raven moved to New York, I strongly dislike Milo.

I, of all people, should know what she wants. But part of knowing Raven is also knowing that she is impossible to read… romantically.

At least I have another target tonight, other than my own goddamn brother.

Fucking Asher Huntzburger.

I can go back to focusing on wanting him dead.

I have tried fucking with his head. I told Asher that Raven is fifteen and has no experience with men.

That asshole didn’t even care.

None of these fuckers care. Men are always fascinated with Raven because she is abnormal.

Yes, weird reason to find a girl attractive, but it’s true.

Raven is not boy crazy. They can’t get a read on her, nor can they figure her out. That’s why they are attracted to her.

She is mysterious.

Men fawn over Raven. I fawn over Raven. And she fawns over Milo.

And now Asher fucking Huntzburger.

God! I hate that stupid asshole and his stupid pretentious assholey name.

Why the hell are we friends with him?

I knew he wanted her. I could see it in his greedy, little beady eyes. The moment Milo started letting us come to these parties, I saw him laser-focused on her.

I can’t compete with Asher or Milo. They are older, authoritative figures.

And if anyone has a daddy complex, it’s Raven.

I have tried to drop hints. I tried to show her in every way what she means to me, but unless Raven is ready to see romantic feelings, she is never going to perceive it that way.

Some people don’t have emotional intelligence. Raven doesn’t have romantic intelligence. She has no clue of the effect she has on men.

The only semi-romantic interest she has displayed is for Milo and even that is confusing. Half the time I can’t pinpoint if it’s sisterly affection or a crush.

It’s not Milo’s fault that Raven follows him around like his lost puppy, but I don’t know where else to direct all of this anger and jealousy.

At least Milo has no interest in Raven. She can want him with all her might, but Milo will never see her as anything more than his little sister like Mia.

Maybe that’s why she wants him so bad. Milo doesn’t pay her attention and struts around with other women. I should just do the same and she will probably want me too.

It’s not Milo or Asher’s fault. This is all my own doing. I was the one who pushed Milo to let us come to these parties.

Raven and I weren’t allowed to do most things without Milo’s supervision and I wanted to show her a good time.

I was the one who told Raven that we needed to make a pact. That we should try our first kisses together by the end of freshman year.

I meant with each other.

Instead, she asked me who I was planning on kissing, and really twisted the knife when she informed me that she planned to kiss Asher.

Leave it to Raven to dismiss or misinterpret every single thing I say.

Why is it so hard for her to see me that way?

I held off kissing anyone else because of her and kept waiting for her to be ready. Little did I understand what she had in mind.

Now I have to watch her make moves on Ash all summer long. After I saw her with Asher I hooked up with some girl, then got shit faced and passed out on the street.

It was a bad night.

Ever since then, it’s been a rotating door of chicks. Every time we have one of these parties, I see her with Asher. Every time I do, I drown myself in alcohol and hook up with the closest warm body.

Each time I go a little further with one of those girls, hoping to somehow spark Raven’s jealousy.

Nothing.

Last month, I got my first blow job.

It happened right after I saw Raven’s mouth plastered to Asher’s. I wanted to go over and rip him into pieces. One of my groupies, as Raven calls them, intervened, looking for attention.

So, instead of having my fist make contact with Asher’s stupid face, I went upstairs to get a blow job.

She was older and had no problem going further. I just couldn’t. I held out on having sex hoping that Raven would come around.

Instead, I am standing around like an idiot with a group of our friends, sipping on a drink, watching them stare at each other from across the room.

She is not done with him. Obviously he is not done with her. Asher looks like he is smitten by Raven. I see him giving her the signal to meet him outside.

As predicted, Asher walks out and Raven follows closely after, presumably to go to their “meet up” spot and make out some more.

Rage burns through me at such an accelerated speed that my legs move faster than my mind. Slamming my drink down, I break away from the group and scatter to the door.

“Reid, where are you going.” Some drunk girl comes over to hang around my neck. What was her name? Andrea or Amy. Something with an A.

“Just going out for air.” I pull her off of me.

“I will come with you.”

“No.”

Stumbling outside of the house, I look around the empty streets. It’s like they disappeared into thin air. I can’t sit around and do nothing. Not again.

Raven’s not picking up her phone either. So, I shoot her a text instead.

Hey, where did you run off to?

No response. I am going out of my mind. I am acting like a crazy motherfucker. She can’t be with him.

This has to stop.

There is a trail and a park nearby. Those are the only two places they could have gone for privacy at this time of the night.

I check the trail first. Nothing. I walk to the nearby park next, and see two lone figures sitting on the swing set. Raven and Asher.

Thank God they are not kissing so I don’t have to kill Asher. They look like they are talking. Walking up to them casually, I do my best to suppress my rage.

“Hey guys.”

Raven and Asher whip their heads around in obvious shock.

“Umm… hey stud,” Raven plasters on a smile.

She is trying to read me with her questioning eyes, as if asking me why the hell am I clit-blocking her.    Because she is mine, and I will clit-block if I so please.

“Hey man, what’s going on?” Asher eyes me apprehensively as well.

What’s going on is you are sitting here with a fifteen-year-old girl, you fucking pedophile. Get away from her and never look at her again with your beady little eyes.

Biting my tongue, I do my best to keep my cool. I can't risk losing it again. Milo just recently enrolled me in therapy for my “anger issues.”

As always, Milo went on his Mr. fix-it mode. He wants to fix everything and everyone, including me. He is such a fucker. I am going to beat him up too, right after Asher.

Okay, maybe my anger is out of control.

That won’t be productive right now.

“Raven’s been missing from the party for a while,” I manage to say evenly.

“Oh… umm,” Raven starts with her usual stammering, which means that she is baffled.

“We will be right there,” Asher solidifies her plans for her.

My fists clench on their own. There is no we. There is only Raven and I. That’s the only time there is a we. But I can’t say that. There is only one surefire way to get Raven’s attention.

“Milo was asking about her. I didn’t want him coming out and looking for Raven,” I tilt my head pointedly towards Asher.

“Shit!” Raven jumps up before Asher can formulate another word in that thick skull of his.

Fucking predictable.

“Rave, it’s not that big of a deal—” Asher starts.

“Yes, it is,” Raven and I both say in unison.

“Ash, I’ll text you later. I gotta go.” Raven hurries towards the path leading to the house.

“Raven!” Asher calls out as he jumps to his feet to follow her.

“Listen man,” I block his path, effectively keeping his horny dick away from her. “You might not care about Milo finding out but I know Raven does. Milo is already freaking out. If you go after her right now, it will just stress her out even more.”

“I am at least going to walk her home. It’s close to midni—.”

“I’ll walk her home,” I cut him off. “Milo won’t be angry if he thinks we went for a walk. But if he finds out you were with her at this hour, it will be really bad for Raven. Trust me!”

I can see him hesitating, trying to decide what the chivalrous thing to do would be. Walk Raven home or risk letting her get caught with him.

He knows, as well as I do that in Raven’s eyes every man is a consolation prize, second best only to Milo. If Milo gets pissed then Raven will dump Asher’s sorry ass in a heartbeat.

Asher thinks with his dick instead of his moral code.

“Okay, fine! You walk her home.” Asher cocks his head towards Raven’s quickly descending figure. “Rave, text me when you get home. Stay with Reid.”

“Will do!” Raven doesn’t bother turning around to acknowledge him.

I quicken my pace to catch up to Raven. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Asher’s retreating figure in the opposite direction.

“Is Milo pissed?” Raven starts as I fall into step next to her.

“Huh?”

“Milo! You said he was looking for me. Is he pissed?”

It’s actually not a lie. Milo did ask about Raven, but he asked earlier in the night, not when I left to find her.

“Oh right. He is fine. We couldn’t find you at the party, and you didn’t pick up my calls. I guess you were having too much fun,” I try but fail to keep the disdain out of my voice.

“Oh sorry. I totally spaced.”

We are both quiet for a few minutes. Grabbing her hand, I entwine it with mine as we make our way back.

“Rave, I don’t care for Asher,” I break the silence lingering between us.

“What?”

“I. Don’t. Care. For. Asher.” I enunciate each word, as if it will mean more if I do.

“Why?”

“Because he is eighteen, pursuing a fifteen-year-old.”

“He doesn’t know that I am fifteen,” Raven protests. “Everyone assumed I was seventeen. I just didn’t correct them.”

Asher does know that she is fifteen, which makes him a creep. There are plenty of women who are of age. Why doesn’t he pursue one of them?

But I don’t bother telling her that he knows. If she knew that I told him, it would end in a huge fight between us. It will make Asher look bad but not enough to win me any points.

“Still. Before we started going to those parties, Milo told all the guys they are not allowed to pursue you or Mia. Ever. He knows Milo will kill him if you two were ever caught together. He is putting you in a bad position as well. Milo will be pissed at you too. You know that!”

“I know,” Raven sighs in defeat. “But you were the one who kept telling me that we need to experience all of our firsts together. I wasn’t going to leave you hanging on our deal. And all the boys in our class are so lame. Where the hell was I supposed to meet someone interesting if not through one of Milo’s parties?”

I.

Hate.

My.

Life.

I did this to myself. I really did shoot myself in the foot.

“Rave, it was stupid to think that we need to experience our first kisses by the end of freshman year. Please just forget about it. Asher is not good enough for you. He should have never been your first kiss.”

“Ugh! You don’t think anyone is good enough for me.”

“Damn right!”

It’s true. No one is good enough for her. And there are so many of them, all undeserving of her.

My stomach is in knots as I think about all the men I have to compete with.

One day at a time.

One asshole at a time.

For now, I can keep reminding her how much of a risk Asher is till she gets it through her head.

As if on cue, Raven speaks without provocation. “Ash is sweet. I like him but not enough to pick a fight with Milo,” she concludes.

“I think that’s a mature decision. He is not worth it.”

“Har har.”

We walk back to the house in a comfortable silence as I contemplate how to get them all out of her system. I will find a way to do it, one by one, till she sees no one else but me.

Just like how I can see no one else but her.

CHAPTER 2

August 11th, 2015

-----------

Reid

Raven and I have been in Paris for most of the summer. Raven got here in May, to help Theressa set up her shop.

I joined in mid-summer, as planned. I was excited to be in Europe with her.

Just us two, without New York City distractions.

No Milo.

No one from our infamous parties.

And no way for her to meet older men through Milo’s friend group.

I thought everything would change for the better.  It did not.

Raven and I finally discussed her obsession with Milo at our seventeenth-birthday-party, and it all clicked.

Raven is not in love with Milo. It’s just her usual obsession of pleasing parental figures. She is such a teacher’s pet. Always has been.

The moment I explained how her behavior looked to others, Raven had no problem distancing herself from him. She has barely made any contact with him this whole summer.

I was supposed to have her all to myself again. She was not distracted by Milo anymore so I thought I could use this summer to tell her how I feel.

I wanted to beef up before seeing Raven again. Plus, Milo seemed frustrated this whole summer with his app and the new business.

Before coming to Paris, Milo and I started an even stricter gym regimen than ever before. We both bulked up significantly.

I swear, we received more attention from the opposite sex than ever before. Milo and I have always fared well with the female demographic. But by the time I left for Paris, every single chick in our immediate vicinity was throwing themselves at us.

Yet, I refrained.

In the past, I have had my share of sexual experiences but I never went all the way.

Milo and Raven both think I am actively having sex, but I keep holding out. I keep waiting, pathetically, for her. It’s such a pussy thing to do, especially for a horny teenager.

In the back of my miserably hopeful mind, I keep waiting for Raven to move on from this obsession with Milo and to see me. Because if there was one thing I have been wanting to share with Raven my whole life, it’s this.

After my conversation with Raven at the birthday party, and after I got the all-clear that she is not into Milo, I thought about telling her how I feel over the summer. We were going to spend the summer in Paris. I thought this summer we could finally… ugh!

I ignored all other girls up until I came to Paris, only to get to Paris and find her with a boyfriend.

Are you fucking kidding me?

We talk every day. How the hell did she not mention this?

Raven is dating some asshole named Michelle. What kind of dude’s name is that anyway?

I never had to see her actively date someone before. Not like this. She adds this douchebag as her plus one to our plans. She calls him her fucking boyfriend.

I want to choke the living shit out of him.

More than I have ever wanted to with Asher or with Milo. That’s what I have to do. I have to kill off the entire male population on this planet before Raven notices me.

Even then, she might say some stupid shit like, you are my brother from another mother.

God, I hate those words. I cringe and shut down every time she says them to me.

When will this torture end?

Why does God make me love such an insufferable woman?

Not only is she dating Michelle in front of me, but they are getting physical. Raven doesn’t share all of what’s going on between them. She is notoriously private about some things, even with me.

But I know she is going further with him than any guy before. I keep hoping, for my sanity, that’s not the case.

It’s getting harder to live in that denial.

We went to a club not so long ago and she left with Michelle. She texted me to say that she was leaving. Before I could run out of the club to stop her, they were gone. I kept calling her but her phone was turned off.

She didn’t come home till the next morning.

This is so much worse than when I thought she liked Milo. Now I wished she was interested in Milo instead.

At least I knew she never had a shot with him. Now she is fucking this Michelle. She won’t admit it, but I know she is.

She has been asking me about all kinds of sex questions. We sometimes watch porn as a joke but recently I can tell that she is taking mental notes while we watch.

She is trying to gain experience and ideas to try with him.

I can’t take this shit anymore.

I have also started fucking. I don’t give two shits anymore about all of this romantic crap and waiting for her. I don't remember the name of the first girl I slept with. I went from zero to way too many within a matter of a couple months.

You would think something like that would make a seventeen-year-old feel better.

It does not.

Which is why I am going to have a talk with her.

I am fidgeting in front of her door, contemplating whether I should knock or casually walk in like I always do.

I decide on the latter. Casual between us is always more natural.

I swing the door open and find Raven stretched out on her stomach on the bed, flipping through a magazine.

God, she is so beautiful. Does she know how beautiful she is?

What was I going to say? Oh right.

“I don’t like him,” I declare.

Not exactly how I intended to start the conversation but there. It’s out and in the open.

“You don’t like whom?” Raven burrows her eyebrows.

Damnit. I obviously needed to practice my spiel.

“Michelle.”

“It’s Michel.”

“I don’t like him.”

“He is sweet.”

“And you have a sweet tooth, even though we both know it’s bad for you.”

Raven stares at me for a moment and then bursts out laughing. I don’t join in. I want her to know that I am serious.

“You are serious! What is your problem with Michel anyways?”

“He is too old for you,” I say with my arms crossed.

“He is only four years older than me.”

“That’s too old.”

“Stop! You and Milo never think any boy is good enough for me.”

Raven sits up on the bed in Indian style. I join her on the bed and mimic her position. I am sitting across from her so she can see the sincerity in my eyes.

“Because they are not. Do you actually like him?” I hold my breath as I await her response.

“He is cool. I enjoy his company.”

“He is a total creep for chasing someone so much younger than him. And either way, we are going back to New York soon. It makes no sense to keep letting him get attached to you.”

“You think?”

“Yes!” I assert. “He is all over you. It’s best if you end it now before it gets messier.”

“Hmm… good point. I will think about it.”

“What is there to think about?”

I don’t get it. All I am asking her to do is break up with this douchebag.Why won’t Raven be reasonable?

“Well, I might come back to Paris. It would be nice to have a ready-made boyfriend if I came back.”

“What!” I can’t keep the hurt out of my voice. “You are moving to Paris? Since when?” She is going to leave me? She didn’t even discuss it with me.

“Well, Paris School of Fashion has a great program. And mom is finally settled in one city instead of traveling all the time. If I do my undergraduate degree in Paris, then I will get to be in the fashion capital of the world. They even do non-credit semester internships. I am almost done at Wellington with my core classes. So, I can try out a remote internship during my last semester, to see if I like it. Call it a test trial.” She must have noticed the disdain on my face because she quickly adds, “It’s just an idea. An additional option.”

“And FIT?” I can barely keep my voice steady.

“Another great option.”

I can’t formulate any words so I stay quiet. Raven and I have talked about her going to Fashion Institute of Technology and me going to New York University. Possibly even getting an apartment together.

We never solidified the plans, but we did talk about it.

I want to work for Wall Street after I am done with my undergraduate and she wants to be in fashion.

New York is also a great option for what Raven wants to do in the future but Paris is not a great option for what I want to do.

“Okay, I will apply with you,” I say without thinking any further.

“To Paris School of Fashion?”

I roll my eyes. “No, stupid. I will find a school that’s good for econ or finance and apply to schools in Paris. What the hell does it matter if we go to school in New York or if we go to school in Paris?”

Before I can say anything more, Raven jumps in my arms; her tiny arms wrap around my neck. I laugh as I almost tip backward in my attempt to catch her.

A little too soon, Raven pulls back. “You would do that for me?”

“Where else would I be if not with you?”

Raven is quiet for a few minutes. “I can't believe you'd do that for me.”

Should I tell her now?

For years I have watched her swoon over Milo. It ripped me up from the inside.

I hooked up with chick after chick, hoping for some sort of reaction from her. Some sort of jealousy.

Nothing.

Then I came here to find out that she had a boyfriend. I was so choked up I could barely speak when she sprung him on me.

I went through women after women. This time I wasn’t trying to make her jealous. I was seeking comfort and distractions.

Now, I am done with these mind-fuck games. I am nothing without her. Half of me is always missing when we are not together. I know I can’t be in New York anymore if Raven isn’t there either.

“Everyone tells us that we have an unhealthy codependency on each other. Might as well prove them right,” I say, mentally gearing up for the upcoming heavy conversation.

“Then let’s stay in New York,” Raven proclaims.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“I thought you were sold to the idea of moving to the fashion capital of the world.” I raise an eyebrow at Raven.

“I wasn’t sold. It was an idea, but it was a bad idea the more I think about it. I can be a successful designer in New York, as well as Paris. But you can’t be successful running Wall Street if you are not physically there. If you can move to Paris for me, then I can stay in New York for you. Plus, us living in two different continents will never work. I can’t function without you."

This is it. It’s now or never. Before I can open my mouth, Raven sighs dramatically.

“What can I say? You are my,” —don’t say it, Raven— “brother from another mother.”

MOTHERFUCKER!

CHAPTER 3

November 21st, 2015

-----------

Reid

The party has just begun and I am already exhausted. Milo always throws Raven and I lavish parties on our birthdays. So, today we are returning the favor and throwing Milo a grand twenty-first birthday party.

Raven has outdone herself with the decorations and Asher has overdone it with cases and cases of beer and liquor. I have been running around all day tying up loose ends and helping the vendors load into the house.

We have a caterer, servers and all types of different party activities that Milo likes. Raven and I have saved up for months to throw this party for Milo.

We started the night with a family dinner at a restaurant. Afterward, the parents went off to stay at the Plaza and took Mia with them so we could have the house for the party.

Now that our last task is done, which was to bring Milo back to the house, Raven and I are focused on drinking and hanging out with some good friends.

We invited our own small clique of friends to the party, to keep ourselves entertained.

Milo has way too many friends. The house was getting packed so we decided to let the majority of Milo’s friends party inside the house, while us “youngins” gather outside by the back patio, enjoying the cool, November weather.

Few people are also on the street itself, across from the house, enjoying a cigarette or two.

I don’t smoke anymore but I am still walking to the guys huddled around in a circle.

“You got a lighter?” Sam asks as soon as I join them. We go to the same school. He is one of my core boys.

“Nah! I gave up smoking,” I reply.

“Since when?” Jon, Sam’s older brother, pipes in. He frowns at me suspiciously.

“Since I realized that it will kill me and I enjoy being alive.” Since Raven follows me around and throws away every single pack I buy. She finally threatened not to speak to me so I had to give it up.

“All right your highness, no need to be so prissy,” Asher throws up both hands and mimics me.

I roll my eyes but grin nonetheless.

Asher Huntzburger, always the comic. Once upon a time I used to hate Asher’s gut for holding Raven’s attention.

I sometimes shake my head at how much I used to hate him. After all, it’s not his fault. What man could resist it when Raven Beckett throws you a bone?

Once I realized that Raven was over Asher, and there was nothing he could do to change her mind, all I felt for him was pity. All that anger and hate dissipated.

Now, it’s just pathetic watching him vie for her attention.

I guess I see something of myself in him. Over the years the hate for Asher turned into pity and later it turned into some sort of camaraderie.

Now, I actually kind of like Asher. He is a good guy. He is just under the Raven spell and if anyone can empathize, it’s me.

I turn my head slightly to stare at Raven’s small frame by the patio door. She is talking to Natalie and looking unbelievably gorgeous, per usual.

Asher follows my gaze and his eyes land on her as well. Neither of us speak as we both stare at her.

Her long, dark hair is flying everywhere. Her dress is showing just the right amount of skin and the heels are propping her ass up. Honestly, it’s torture for any man to watch her.

Other men want her because they can’t have her. Men are truly like dogs.

If a woman ignores a man, he just pursues her more. It’s the chase. It’s the allure. It’s the mystery. It’s elementary rules. We want what we can’t have.

There are other beautiful women in the world but  they can’t keep a man’s attention. It’s not about looks. It’s about how you carry yourself.

I learned these things from years of observation. I have concluded that’s why so many men want Raven.

But that’s not why I want Raven.

I want her because we have a bond that’s unparalleled to anything in this world. We have shared every good and bad memory. Since we learned to speak, we have spoken to each other every single day of our lives.

I want her because she is the only girl who can make my heart beat a million times within the same second.

Most of all, I want Raven because there is something so special about how she loves. Once you earn her love and respect, it’s no holds barred. She will do anything for those she loves.

When we were fourteen, her dad opened a debit account for Raven. She automatically put my name on the account because I didn’t have a debit card.

When I get sick, Raven never leaves my side.

When I gave up smoking, she stayed glued to my side to make sure that I didn't “fall off the wagon.”

When I am falling apart, Raven just knows without me ever having to tell her.

It's like we are one person.

No one will ever understand our bond.

To have that kind of love, to attain the warmth that resonates from her, it means everything to me.

However, Raven can love with all of her heart, but she won't let you mistreat her. She will hold her ground and her pride till her dying breathe.

There is just something so sexy about having to earn the love and respect of a proud, stubborn woman.

It makes you feel like a deserving man.

Those are all the reasons why I want her.

But that’s not why Asher wants her. He wants her because he knows he can never have her.

“Hey, I will be right back,” Asher says.

“Sure,” I nod.

I know what he is up to. He is going to go over there to hit on Raven.

It used to bother me. I used to want him dead every time he looked at Raven.

Not anymore.

I would be angry if it wasn’t so sad to watch. Too sad. Like the Titanic going down.

I want to tell him to move on, but I have no leg to stand to provide that kind of advice. If anyone needs a lesson on how to move on from Raven Beckett, it’s me.

It’s only been, what, seventeen years? I haven’t moved on. Not even a smidge. If there was a switch to turn it all off, I would have definitely used it by now.

But as much as I love her, I have stopped pursuing her. Ever since Paris.

Raven was finally interested in dating but she chose someone else to date. After she broke things off with Michelle, I thought we could talk.

Instead, she left my ass in Paris via text and abruptly took a flight back to New York.

We have always had a codependent relationship. Others found it abnormal, but it never bothered us. For us, it’s the most natural thing because that’s all we have known.

We check each other’s emails. We know each other’s passwords for everything.

The only thing we have never discussed are sexual conquests. We are both private in that regard.

I know of my reasons, but I am not sure of hers.

Ever since my return from Paris, I put some distance between us. I am not sure if she even noticed.

For example, I don’t go to her room and hang out there as much. I go out with my boys while Raven often stays home. She has also seemed pre-occupied ever since we returned from Paris.

It's a good thing.

I can be in love with her till my dying breath, which I probably will be, but there is no point in pursuing her.

Raven wants someone older. Due to the fact that I was born an hour before her, that is one thing I cannot change. She is my best friend and that’s it.

I should just be grateful that she hasn’t dated since we returned. God knows what I would do if she started dating again.

As for myself, I have been swimming in women and drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

Like tonight.

I have been talking to that chick who is walking up to me right now.

She is older, experienced and in college. I told her I was going to say bye to some of my friends. Then we can bounce and I can bury myself in her.

What did she say her name was? Juli, July or Jules? Something of that sort.

I am racking my brain when Juli/July/Jules walks up. “Should we go back to my dorm?”

“Yup. Let me just shoot my brother a quick text.”

I pull out my phone to text Milo and to let him know that I am leaving.

“Okay. I am going to quickly freshen up and grab my purse. Give me like ten minutes.”

“Sounds good,” I give her the Sinclair megawatt smile.

See? Moving on with life instead of crying over the girl who will never love me back.

Unlike Asher over there.

I glance over to where Asher and Raven are standing. It’s hard to watch Asher grovel at her feet. I am glad I don’t pathetically chase after her anymore. Paris has given me a much-needed slap in the face.

Just as I think that, I see Asher lunging at Raven, and grabbing her into a lip lock.

What the fuckity fuck!

I am about to charge over there and end him. All the pity I felt for Asher is gone. Not when he puts his grimy hands on Raven.

I am across the street from the house. Just as I am about to rush over, ready to tear Asher from limb to limb, I see Milo’s unmistakable figure tackling Asher to the ground.

Milo looks insane, landing punch after punch on Asher. Holy shit. Milo might actually kill the motherfucker.

I start running back, but Raven has already thrown herself at Milo, hugging him from the front and screaming.

Milo grabs Raven by the elbow and drags her inside before I can make it back to them.

My first instinct is to check on Raven but it looks like Milo’s got her. So instead, I go over to Asher. I still want to kill him but I think Milo beat me to it.

Fuck.

My brother might go to jail tonight. Asher looks bad. There is blood everywhere. I thought I was the hot-tempered one. Milo has clearly lost his mind.

I have to take charge right now and clean up his mess. I direct Sam and Jon to help me carry Asher.

Our friends Dennie and Ulysses join in as well, one grabbing the first aid kit from the bathroom and the other one grabbing towels.

Janeen goes inside to find Amy, one of our family friends. She is a nurse and luckily she is still coherent.

Amy immediately puts on her nurse hat and starts to clean up Asher’s wounds. She also puts some butterfly stitches on him.

All of our friends are frantically running around, helping however they can. There is already a crowd formulating.

This is bad. This is really bad.

We have a lot of family friends here. They might blab their big mouths to their parents who are all friends with our parents. That’s the last thing we need.

“Hey, guys! I need everyone to go back inside,” I announce. “We had a small accident but everything is fine now. Amy is on it, so go inside and enjoy the party.”

People start to clear out the area and return to the party. We don’t need any more witnesses to Milo’s crazy outburst.

I am praying to God that Asher doesn’t have to go to the hospital. Hospital means a possible incident report and possible charges against Milo.

What the hell overcame Milo?

He has always been even-tempered. Yes, I wanted to kill Asher too, but for a very different reason than out of brotherly love.

What Milo did was past protective brotherly instincts. It verged on jealous boyfriend territory.

I would know. Those are the same instincts I had, but watching his sorry ass on the ground reminded me why I pitied him.

I freeze.

What Milo did was absolutely in the jealous boyfriend territory.

There is no way… it can’t be true.

I am wrong in my assessment. I have to be.

So, why can't I move right now?

I need answers.

Where the hell did Milo and Raven run off to anyways?

I sit around for a few more minutes. I finally peel myself off the seat.

We have enough hands on deck to help Asher. After talking to Amy, I confirm that Asher doesn't need to go to the hospital.

As she finishes up the butterfly stitches, I let Asher know that we will talk about this later.

He won’t press charges against Milo. Asher knows that he fucked up.

My mind is still reeling from my own insane conclusions. I keep repeating and praying in my head that I am being delusional. I am reading too much into it.

I search through the party, room by room, and see no sign of Milo or Raven. Finally, I make my way upstairs to check Raven’s room.

Nothing.

I make my way to Milo’s room.

The door is shut.

I just stand there for God knows how long, staring at that locked door. Bile rises in the back of my throat as the horrendous possibility starts to become more and more real.

I have a master key to the house. It unlocks every door but I have never used it before.

I have a gut feeling that I won’t like what I see, but like a sick motherfucker I can’t help myself.

I steadily make my way to Milo’s door. With trembling hands I pull my key ring and find the master key to turn the lock.

As quietly as I can, I push the door open a fraction to look inside.

Sprawled out in the middle of the bed is Raven. On top of her is a naked Milo, fucking her like it’s his last day on earth.

I always knew that Raven didn’t want me. My feelings for her were only ever met with rejection. She always chose other men and for years I wondered how I’d ever get over her.

Wanna know the trick to getting over the love of your life?

Just watch her fuck your brother’s brains out and it will kill all feelings inside of you that could ever resemble anything close to love.

My insides are so numb right now that there is nothing called feelings. And love is a feeling.

Problem solved!

In the back of my disgustingly optimistic mind, I had hoped that it would somehow work out between us. One day, when we are adults, Raven would wake up and realize that her best friend was actually the love of her life. Like in one of those chick flicks.

But this scene in front of me changed all of those hopes. All of those possibilities and optimism is now gone. Tarnished.

Raven fucked my brother. There could never be an “us” after that. She sealed the deal.

I should look away.

I should close this door.

But I don’t.

I watch them. I imprint the image in my mind. I am taking mental photos. Fuck that. I am taking a mental video.

If my dumbfuck of a mind was to ever even think of her that way, like the girl I loved, I will reach inside and bring this memory up.

I will remind my brain of these images in front of me; of Milo climaxing inside of Raven as he holds her close. These images will shut down anything inside of me like it’s doing right now.

In a way it’s good that this happened. I gave Raven every ounce of my heart, and watching her fuck my brother snapped all of that out of me.

I am finally free of her love. Since there are no feelings inside of me anymore, now we can actually be friends.

I am not angry. I am not even jealous. For the first time in seventeen years, I feel nothing.

I am completely dead on the inside. My heart is hollow. Empty. Blank. It’s just nothingness.

And it’s fucking beautiful.

This is what I needed. This dose of reality.

I always thought my love for her was unconditional.

It was not.

This was apparently the one condition in my unconditional love. I didn’t realize it but it’s the one string Raven could have pulled to kill my love, and she did it.

She pulled the trigger.

I slowly shut the door and start walking downstairs. As I take the last step, I almost run into Juli/July/Jules.

“There you are,” she smiles. “I was looking for you. Ready to head out or did you want to stay here longer?”

“No, let’s go. I am done!”

And for the first time in my life I truly mean it.

I am so done.

CHAPTER 4

December 2nd, 2015

-----------

Milo

I push the door open to Raven’s room and march inside. Raven visibly rolls her eyes at me, unimpressed by my presence.

It’s fucking irritating. She used to do everything in her power for my attention. Now all she fucking does is roll her damn eyes, and looks at me with contempt.

But she is not getting out of this conversation. She will talk to me, one way or the other.

“We have to talk,” I announce.

“We don't!” Raven predictably refuses to have an adult conversation.

Her sarcastic attitude is on my last nerve. I clench and unclench my jaw.

I hate how she is looking at me. I want her to look at me like she used to. I want to be her whole damn world again.

Why does she refuse to look at me that way?

The stern look I use to discipline her is only causing the fleeting look of fear that washes over her face. I look at Raven for a long while, and try to cool down.

“I hate hurting you,” I finally mutter under my breath.

“Well, thank you for that. Now please leave.”

I wince at her tone. This is not my Raven. She always tries to understand the other perspective. She always tries to understand me. Why did she stop trying?

“Rave, I don't want to keep pushing you. But you refuse to talk about us. I am losing it here.”

“Milo, go find someone else to fuck. All the girls who came over last weekend were dying to sleep with you. Just choose one and leave me alone. They won't mind your horny episodes. And your bipolar mood swings.”

I flinch again. Raven hit another nerve. Her words are physically painful to hear.

She knows about Tessa’s issues and for her to peg me with mental disorders… it’s a tough pill to swallow.

My behavior is so abhorrent that I have turned the most compassionate girl against me. Am I breaking her that much? I truly must be mentally incapacitated.

I close my eyes and try once more.

“Rave, you have every reason to hate me. I don't know what I can say to make it better. I can't. I have no excuse for my behavior. The only thing I can tell you is, I can't live without you. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I don't know how to make it stop. I feel like the only way it would, is if I rip my fucking heart out.”

“In that case, you are doing the most heinous things in the name of love. If you loved me so damn much, how can you do what you did?” Raven yells.

I quietly study her distraught face. It’s making my own heart thud louder.

I love her so damn much that I feel like her fucking slave. I am chained to her with invisible shackles yet I am the predator and she is the victim.

If she truly doesn’t love me then am not safe for her. Even I know that.

“You are right," I admit quietly. "You should tell everyone what I did. I deserve whatever punishment I get.” It’s true. If she doesn’t believe me, then she should lock me away. That’s what I deserve.

Raven looks distrubed at just the suggestion. “I can't do that.”

Why? Because she loves me. Of course she does, but Raven won’t fucking admit it. This chick has turned me inside out.

If she hates what I am doing to her, then why would she deal with this shit?

That's not Raven's style. She usually stands up for herself. I have seen her do it plenty of times.

She obviously loves me. She just can’t admit it. She is fucking crazy, but I already knew that.

“If you are not going to tell them, then be with me.”

“Never.”

Anger starts seeping through me. I am so fucking frustrated. I have already lost all of my patience. I don’t know how else to reach her. She is being unreasonable.

“Rave, you are so out of touch with your emotions, you don't even understand your own feelings. You love me, but it's like you can't access that part of yourself. Why are you doing this to yourself? Why are you doing this to me?”

Raven shakes her head at me, dismissing me like she always does. Predictably, Raven tries to use another avoidance method to walk away.

I grab her by the elbow before she can do the same thing, but Raven turns to slap me across the face.

“Do not fucking touch me!” Raven roars.

“You are such a confused little girl,” I yell back. “You don't know what you want. You need me to tell you what you want, like always.”

That’s what this is about. I get it now.

After all, she told me that she loves me. But Raven is young and doesn’t see things clearly. I have to make this decision for the both of us.

Truth be told I never had a choice in this matter. I have already tried to let her go for years, but we belong together. There is nothing more to it.

It’d be unnatural for it to be any other way. I can’t fight nature, just like she can’t fight her destiny.

“I don't love you. Now get off me.”

I grab her wrist as she tries to twist out of my hold. She can’t. She can’t leave me. Nothing in life will ever make sense again if we are not together.

Raven screams for me to stop. For a brief moment I consider exactly that; stopping this insanity and letting her go.

An immediate panic and an unbearable desperation takes over at the thought. I can’t stop.

She is mine. She truly is mine in every sense.

She understands our physical connection. When we are together that’s the only time she doesn’t over analyze this.

In the snap of a moment I am on top of her on the carpet. “Please, baby, please don't fight me. I love you so fucking much. You are all I ever wanted.”

Raven is thrashing under me, her shirt ripped to pieces, buttons scattered all over.

Things are getting out of control. I am aware of that. I just can’t stop once this collision course starts.

She looks scared.

She is crying.

I really should stop this insanity. And I would if there was another way.

We have to connect.

I can’t even breathe without her right now. If she gives in, then it will be okay.

She will understand why it needs to be this way. Raven always understands.

I desperately kiss her all over her face and neck, trying to reach her. Raven keeps fighting me so I pin her wrists on top of her head.

I yank her shorts down, barely aware of her screams and hits. I am shaking with my need for her.

I breathe into my ear. “I can't live without you, baby. You are in my system, imprinted on my soul. Just love me. That's all I want. I will make you so happy, I promise.”

I push two fingers inside her and bite her neck and breasts. I keep assuring her with soothing words.

I yank my own sweatpants down when I feel her getting wet. A huge relief washes over me. Of course she wants me. She feels the same way.

I kiss her feverishly, trying to pour every bit of myself into it.

I kiss her like a maniac while I slip inside her.

Sweet fucking heaven. My home. Inside my Raven.

I start to work on her clit with my fingers and finally hear Raven set off.

Everything else fades away when she falls apart like this. I finally know what we mean to each other.

We come together, with me holding her as close as I possibly can.

It’s not till I clean us up and carry her to the bed do I realize the weight of my actions.

Raven is completely unresponsive. I am holding her but she is shaking uncontrollably. There are still tear remnants on her beautiful cheek. She looks like the calm before the storm.

There is a different type of anger brewing inside of Raven. One that tells me that nothing will be the same again after this moment. One that tells me that she doesn’t understand or see it the way I do, and she will never forgive me for tonight.

I finally pushed her too far.

Raven looks broken right now. At this very moment a disturbing realization is dawning on me.

I have lost her for good.

I pretend to be asleep, but my hold on her is ironclad grip. I want her to know that even when I have lost her, and even when I am unconscious, I’ll still never let her go.

The Next Day

-----------

Reid

“What do you mean by leaving?” I tilt my face at Raven.

“I mean that I am departing, exiting, going away from here,” Raven sasses back.

I roll my eyes. “Thanks asshole. I know what the word leaving means. I just don’t understand why now.”

“Why not now? I am basically done with my semester. I spoke to all my teachers today. I just have a few more assignments to finish. They agreed to let me email them. I already got accepted to my remote internship in Paris for next semester. As long as I complete the internship, I will graduate in spring. It just makes good sense to leave for Paris now so I can settle in.”

I am baffled. Raven is packing her suitcase at manic speed and just informed me that she is flying out to Paris in a few hours.

This is so sudden. I have no idea where this is coming from. I am trying to calm her down. I am trying to reason with her.

“Raven, you are seventeen. Don’t you need a parent or someone to buy your ticket? I thought if you are underage, you can’t travel unless a parent or guardian approves it. And I doubt Milo will approve it.”

“Fuck Milo! I don’t give two fucks what he will approve of,” Raven snaps.

It immediately becomes awkwardly quiet in the room. I watch her apprehensively as she continues to pack like a beast.

I never confronted her about Milo. She doesn’t know that I saw them having sex.

Something bad must have happened between them for her to make such a quick exit.

What am I missing here?

“Did something happen between Milo and you?” I ask quietly, not completely sure if I want to hear the answer.

“No!” Raven says curtly.

Typical.

If she is avoiding the topic, it means something did happen between them.

I don’t know why that makes me happy and I don’t care to know. As far as I am concerned, I have buried any feelings I have ever had for her six feet under.

But as her friend I am worried.

“Rave, think about it for a second. Paris will still be there. Why not leave after the semester is over?”

“I have already thought about it and I have made my decision.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

Now I am genuinely concerned. “You made this decision last night and you are putting this plan into action to-night. You never think this emotionally. What is going on with you?”

Raven looks down with a wretched look on her face. My new found emotional “freedom” is immediately disturbed.

I have locked away that insufferable love for her in a coffin and buried it deep inside. I vowed to never open that coffin again. Yet, I am not strong enough to watch her look this miserable.

So, I say the only thing that I know she wants to hear right now. “Rave, you don’t have to talk about anything that you don’t want to.”

“Thank you,” she whispers back.

“So, what’s the game plan?” I can at least make sure that she is safe.

“I bought my ticket using Mom’s credit card. I’ll text her on the way to the airport that I am coming to Paris.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t want her texting Milo. But it’s okay. I have a key to her apartment.”

Theressa might be a negligent narcissist, but she is not cruel. She loves her daughter in her own way.

Raven will have a place to stay, money, and everything else she needs. The only thing that Theressa cannot commit to her daughter is attention or time. Raven will be taken care of in every other way.

“Okay…” I say slowly. “That’s fine. And then what?”

“In a month I’ll start my internship at Paris School of Fashion. I’m going to room with a couple of the other girls from the program. They are also from out of the country so the school paired us in case we wanted to lodge together. I don’t want to live with Mom. This made the most sense.”

“I know you talked about doing a remote internship, but I didn’t know it was so set in stone,” I state.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure that I wanted to do the remote internship.”

I frown. “But don’t you have to meet with your counselor to discuss your application to FIT? Shouldn’t you at least do that before you leave?”

Raven visibly tenses.

“Reid,” she says softly. “I am not going to FIT. I am not coming back for graduation either. I am having them mail my diploma. I am going to go to the Paris School of Fashion for college. I am going to stay in Paris for good.”

I blink.

I thought I was emotionless.

That I was dead inside.

One moment. One sentence.

That’s all it takes, and it all comes back like a flood. I am definitely feeling emotions right now. Lots of it.

And my first thought: Fuck her!

Fuck! Her!

My life, my whole fucked up mess of a life, it’s all her fault.

She is the reason for my complete emotional wreckage. The years of pining after her. The years of torture. My anger. My on and off relationship with my own brother. The extensive mental abuse she put me through.

If Raven and I weren’t born together, if I didn’t have this stupid notion that we were destined for each other, I wouldn’t be this broken.

The man that I am is because of her. I could never go back. I could never be a different man because she has already shaped my life.

I’d never have the opportunity to know what it’d be like growing up without being tethered to her.

This need for her dictates every relationship and every decision in my life. I don’t know what kind of man I could have been if we weren’t born together.

But we were, and she fucked me up. She bulldozed over me only to leave me and never come back.

I didn’t even apply to colleges in Paris because I didn’t think she did either.

She knows that.

This has nothing to do with whatever bullshit happened between her and Milo. This was pre-planned and she didn’t bother looping me in.

She had no intention of us going to Paris or staying in New York together.

All the while, she let me believe otherwise.

I spent years being angry at Milo. I thought he was taking her away from me. But it was never Milo’s fault. It was Raven’s.

I confronted her about her feelings for Milo. She said it was nothing but brotherly love. But it wasn’t.

She actively pursued Milo. He didn’t know how I felt about her. I never confronted him about it. I have no right to be angry at him.

But I have every right to be angry at her.

She lied to me.

And I still looked the other way for the sake of our friendship.

She let me hold on to the fact that we were still best friends at the end of it all. That we still have a bond that could never be broken. She couldn’t even let me hold on to that much.

I always thought she is all that’s perfect in this world. Even now. I recently started dating Juli, yet every time Juli does something I don’t like, I compare it to Raven and how she would have done it differently.

All my life I have compared every woman to her.

And it has wrecked me.

I destroyed my relationship with Milo over the years because of Raven. The man who raised me as his own kid. The man who sacrificed his own childhood so I could have a better one.

All I asked of her was not to be with him.

But she did it anyway.

Now that it didn’t work out between them, she is leaving me.

She is so fucking selfish.

“Wow! You really gave me the middle finger, didn’t you? Were you ever going to tell me or just let me figure it out on my own?” I don’t yell. My words are calm and disciplined.

Raven looks scared. This is a fury she has never seen in me. She knows it because I have never felt this furious before. Not even when I saw her fucking my own goddamn brother.

Every time I think she couldn’t do anything worse to me, she comes back to wreck me once more.

“I-um Reid, I wasn’t sure about my decision—”

“We are done.”

“What?”

“We. Are. Done.” I enunciate each word.

“What do you mean by done?”

“I mean that we are finished. We are through, ended, terminated, concluded.”

Raven rolls her eyes. “I know what the word done means. Stop being immature Reid. This is—”

“Get out of my house,” I say through gritted teeth.

Raven stares at me in complete shock.

“Reid!”

“Get. Out.” I enunciate, barely able to contain my anger.

“Calm down—”

“I wish my family never took you in. I wish we left you to rot in that empty house,” I say it quietly but I know she heard it because Raven gasps.

Loving her has shut down anything that’s good inside of me. So, she might as well see the ugly that’s left behind. I take a step forward, my face contorting with anger.

“No wonder your parents left you. You are toxic. You destroy everything you touch and now you are leaving without even bothering to explain. I never want to see your face. If you ever felt grateful for what my family did for you, then don’t contact me again. Don’t come near me. Even if you are lying on your deathbed taking your last breath, don’t reach out. I don’t want anything to do with you. Ever.”

Your closest friends can hurt you because they mean more to you than strangers.

But you see, your best friend or your “soulmate” can hurt you better because they know how to do it.

I brought out Raven’s deepest insecurities to the surface and used her pride to wound her.

She knows that I’d never sink so low unless I truly wanted to end our friendship for good.

And I do.

There is no turning back from this. We both know it. So, she stays quiet as the silent tears roll out of her eyes.

I don’t care.

I hate her.

If I run into her again in this lifetime, that will still be a lifetime too soon.

Turning on my heels, I slam the door shut in her face without bothering to look back.

CHAPTER 5

May 3rd, 2018

-----------

Reid

One of the problems with ending a friendship with someone who is completely rooted in your life is that it’s actually never over. Not really.

I might have erased all traces of her in my life but she still exists in all other facets.

We have been friends our entire lives. Our fathers are brothers in all but blood. The Becketts are still our closest family.

We also went to the same school and have the exact same friend group. All of her closest friends are my closest friends.

We didn’t realize how interwoven our lives were, until we separated. Even with an ocean between us, dodging her has been difficult.

Plus, there is that not so simple fact of us being born on the exact same day.

On our my eighteenth birthday, Milo tried to throw me a party. It would have been the first year I’d celebrate my birthday without her.

I was in no mood for a “soiree” and I think Milo could tell with my personality shift.

In his usual fix-it mode, he insisted on sending me on a birthday trip to Mexico and offered to have me take five of my friends along. All expenses paid for by Milo.

The same friends were invited to Paris, for the same weekend. All expenses paid for by Theressa.

Our friends hated having to choose.

Personally, I didn’t care to celebrate.

I don’t care for much of anything anymore.

I never feel anything and it’s fucking great. I might not be happy and excited, but my heart’s also not breaking every fucking second of every fucking day.

After years of pain and suffering, it’s much better this way. No more heartbreak. No more feelings. Just obsolete and nothingness.

I spend my days studying, and my nights drinking and fucking. That’s all there is to it.

So, I backed out of my birthday plans. She can have them. I don't care.

But, she also reached out to our friend group, letting them know that she decided not to celebrate her birthday this year either.

Our friends went from having two all-expenses-paid international trips to none at all.

The teenagers were pissed.

The same thing happened the following year.

Milo was exasperated by my detached-from-life personality. He contacted my friends to redo the trip from last year.

Again, the whole group felt awkward because Janeen wanted everyone to go to Paris for her.

Our group consists of privileged kids, all scattered between New York, LA, and Europe.

Now that we are all adults, it’s normal for us to take weekend trips for birthdays, spring break, New Year’s Eve, or any excuse for a get together.

We both get invited to the same trips, but we have an unspoken understanding. If one of us RSVP’s to a trip, the other one quietly backs out.

Most often than not, she backs out.

I’ll hand it to her. She’ll never act in an unclassy way. It’s beneath her.

Following her lead, I have never made an issue of it either, but our friends have picked up on the tension.

So, this year they preemptively hounded us both for months to start doing our birthday celebrations together again. This time they settled for a neutral territory: Jaco, Costa Rica.

Was it possible for me to say no?

Absolutely. I could have said no and put my foot down.

But somewhere in that sick, masochist mind of mine I wanted to see her again. I have been walking around in this hollow shell of a body for too long.

If I saw her again, there would finally be something more than nothingness.

I knew that. I wanted to feel again. I agreed to it. As did she.

Our friend Janeen took the lead from booking the flights to booking the massive Airbnb. I insisted on footing the bill for the Airbnb, not wanting to give her any upper hand.

Money isn’t much of a challenge for us anymore. Growing up, we considered ourselves to be upper-middle class, even though outsiders might have considered us to be rich.

However, after Milo graduated from college, he never let us worry about money again. He created an app while he was in college and as the majority share owner of the app, he is quite successful.

I never ask him for anything but he takes care of all of my bills.

Leave it to Milo to make it impossible to hate him.

And I don’t.

I don’t hate my brother for what happened with Raven. I am pretty sure he hated himself enough for what happened. He was sullen after Raven left.

My guess is that he felt awful about letting it get that far with her. I think Milo knew of her feelings but I never saw him encouraging her crush.

Milo was drowning when he had to become our parent. A lot of it was my fault. She had a calming effect on him. She admired him and gave him unconditional support.

When he thought she expressed an interest in Asher, I am guessing he felt threatened about this support being taken away and he gave in.

Obviously the responsible Milo emerged after the momentary lapse in judgment. He broke it off, which explains why she made such a quick exit for Paris.

Her pride was wounded from the rejection.

I could almost understand why Milo sought her out for comfort. He relied heavily on her for his sanity when he couldn’t rely on me.

But what was her excuse?

She had none. She knew how I felt about her and Milo. She still pursued him and completely fucked me over. After shattering my life, she just up and left me.

Even with all of my numbed feelings, I can still remember to hate her for that.

Which is why I don’t understand what made me think this was a good idea.

It was not a good idea.

Infact, this was a terrible idea.

I am standing in this Airbnb and in front of me is Raven, in all her glory.

I haven’t said that name in years. I don’t even let myself think of that name. I have blanked all thoughts of her from my mind.

Yet here she is, standing in front of me with none of our friends are in sight to provide me with the much-needed buffer.

I came straight to the Airbnb after getting off my flight. I met with the owner of the luxurious accommodation that overlooks the ocean. As soon as he left, the door flew open with Raven standing at the door frame.

Janeen booked me an earlier flight than everyone else. I found it suspicious but she assured me it’d be better if I arrived early to see my birthday surprise.

I don’t know why I ever trusted our friends.

They are all liars.

They obviously had both Raven and I arrive early to “talk it out”. They have no idea what happened between us, and we both refused to air out each other’s dirty laundry to our friends.

Now we have no choice but to deal with each other.

I momentarily forget to hate her as I take her in.

She doesn’t seem real. She is different. She was always stylish but now she has added a Parisian influence to her look.

Her hair seems darker than before. It’s flying all over due to the wind from the open door. She is wearing a beach hat and the sundress is revealing a torturous amount of skin. Her legs are tanned but her face is still pale against her perfectly rosy lips.

She is unbelieveably gorgeous.

I swallow.

My mouth is dry.

I keep reminding myself to hate her. To remind myself of what she did to me. All the lies. All the deceits. She is nothing but a pretty face. A face that ruined me.

Raven rolls in her carry-on and shuts the door behind her. We are face to face after almost two and a half years apart.

I never wanted to see her again. The last time I spoke to her, I said as much.

“Reid,” Raven finally addresses me.

I almost gasp at the sound of her voice. I haven’t heard it for so long. It squeezes my chest so tight that I don’t even think I can breathe or move.

One word and her voice is already melting the ice I have layered my heart with.

I missed her so fucking much.

“How have you been?” I ask nonchalantly.

Raven tucks her hair behind her ear. “Good. How about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Happy birthday.”

“To you as well.”

We both stand around awkwardly after that. Neither of us have any clue on what to say in a situation like this.

Ever since her move, Raven has only kept in touch with Mia, my parents, and our select group of friends.

When Milo found out that Raven left for Paris, he threw a shitstorm. He flew out to Paris but he came back alone. It was impossible to read Milo after that and I didn’t try. I didn’t know the extent of their relationship and I didn’t care to know.

I had my own shit to deal with.

Shockingly, Mia didn’t ask either. So, none of us offered her an explanation.

I blamed Raven for destroying our family, but in reality she was the only glue to hold us together.

Raven was the one who organized family nights. She took care of things that none of us deemed important. Without her efforts, all warmth died off inside our home. The the house became suffocatingly quiet. Laughter died off and three of us walked around like zombies. However, none of us ever talked about it.

I became dead on the inside, detached from life. Milo pulled away from the rest of us, filling his time with work. He became void of all emotions. Mia simply bottled everything up.

With Milo’s new influx of income Dad didn’t have to stay in the Cayman Islands any longer, nor did he have to work long hours. Our parents moved back home.

Milo purchased a condo in Soho and moved out. However, he barely comes to New York with his new rigorous travel schedule. He lives on the road, and seems to prefer it that way.

The moment I graduated from high school, I moved out as well. I couldn’t live in that suffocating house anymore.

We all moved away from each other, barely reuniting on holidays and select weekends. Other than Mia, I barely see my family. The same is true for Milo.

Raven was the one who made all of us real. I realized it after she left. Without Raven our home was a sham; it was cursed and empty.

“Where are Sam, John, and Ulysses?” Raven asks. “I thought they were flying in with you, Janeen and Mary. Shouldn’t everyone else be here by now?”

“Hah,” I scoff. “Remember the movie Parent Trap? I think that’s what they set up for us. Janeen booked me an earlier flight than everyone else. My guess is they will be coming in later tonight. They probably just want us to sort our shit.”

Raven doesn’t say anything but smiles politely.

“So, should we?” I finally break the silence, unable to take the awkwardness between us.

“Should we what?”

“Sort our shit.”

What the fuck am I saying? Why would I want to sort anything with her?

Raven looks just as surprised at my suggestion as I feel. It’s like the moment I saw her, none of the awful shit she did matters anymore.

How does she always have this effect on me?

“I don’t think that’s up to me,” Raven says flatly.

Irritation pulses through me. I feel powerless and back to square one. I hate it.

For once, I want her to grovel. To tell me that she missed me. I spent my life longing for her. I need something to feed my ego right now.

I try to remind myself that it doesn't matter. She is lethal for me. She couldn’t be my lover, but she couldn’t even be my friend. She treated me like dirt.

“How’s that?” I ask.

She tries to smile. “I believe it was your decision to end our friendship. I never stopped being your friend. You just chose not to be mine.”

I have been hers since the day we were born. “You didn’t exactly call me to make up.”

“Actually I did, but I took the hint when you blocked me,” Raven points out.

I momentarily feel guilty, and somewhat surprised. I thought Raven's pride would stop her from calling me. I am shocked that she tried to contact me.

In my anger, I blocked her from every medium possible.

“It’s okay,” Raven whispers when I don’t respond. “You did warn me not to contact you.”

“You dropped a bomb on me. I was upset.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I have been miserable for the last couple of years. I have been thinking over and over how I could have done everything differently. I fucked up. I was so caught up in my own emotions that I forgot we were supposed to be a package deal. You would have never done that to me. I was selfish. I—I just needed to get away from... New York.” Raven lowers her eyes.

“Yea, well. I guess there is no point in rehashing the past. We are both here for the weekend. We should just try to be adults about it and get along.”

Raven’s smile lights up the room. “I think that’s an excellent idea. And thank you for putting this weekend together.”

“I didn’t put this weekend together.”

Raven frowns. “I asked Janeen how much I should pitch in for the Airbnb. Mom would have been happy to pay. But Janeen said you took care of all the bills and activities.”

“I just financed it. Janeen planned everything.”

“Oh. Well, thank you for financing it.”

“You can thank Milo. It was his money.”

We both freeze at the mention of his name. I didn’t mean to bring up Milo. It just slipped out.

Whatever happened between them must have been bad enough for Raven to have left the way she did. As much as loathe her, I can still recognize that.

“Ummm... okay. I think I’d prefer to pay for my half of the Airbnb.”

“That won’t work.”

“Really, I insist. I can take your money. But I can’t take Milo’s. Don’t ask me why.”

I shake my head. “Milo gave the money to me as a gift. It’s my money now and I can choose to do with it as I please.”

I can see Raven hesitating. She is uncomfortable with this. Very uncomfortable. Why? Milo used to always pay for us. It was never a problem before.

“What exactly happened between you and Milo?” I ask hesitantly.

Raven stares at me blankly. “Nothing happened. Listen, I am feeling really gross from the flight. I am going to take a quick shower and change. Why don’t we go to dinner and catch up after I change?”

I give her a curt nod but stay quiet.

Raven walks around the house to figure out which bedroom she wants to take and disappears inside one of them to take a shower.

Raven likes to change into shorts and tank tops whenever we are at home or we settle in somewhere.

The only exception to this rule is when Theressa is around, in which case Raven always puts on makeup and her “nice” clothes.

We figured out early in life that it’s easier to give into Theressa than deal with her nagging. Theressa can nag for hours at a time, while a change of clothing and makeup application only takes thirty minutes at most.

But Theressa’s crazy has reached a new level, one  of the other reasons why I agreed to this trip.

Theressa sent an unacceptable email to her only daughter. Gossip about this email started circulating a few months ago, but I have only recently read it.

Raven must be devastated... not that I care.

Janeen was the one to tell me about some drunk email that Theressa had sent Raven. Janeen visited Raven in Paris a few months ago, and came across this email when she borrowed Raven's laptop.

Janeen was concerned and finally sent me a screenshot of the email, asking if this is something she should be worried about.

That's how the push started for us to reunite.

To say that it's a harsh email is putting it mildly. Janeen's exact words were, "If my parents sent me this email, there'd be a gun to my head."

Raven's parents recently got back together. They were never officially divorced, just separated. Uncle John never wanted a divorce and Theressa never pushed for it either.

We were all shocked that Uncle John won Theressa back. Come to find out, Theressa also wanted to take Uncle John back, but she held off.

Raven confronted her parents about why they didn’t get back together when she was younger if they were never divorced. And why they are now back together after she is grown and they have no more obligation towards me.

Initially, they refused to answer Raven's first few emails. Raven was attending college and didn't have much face to face interaction with them. But she kept pestering them continuously for an answer.

I was almost proud of her. The non-confrontational Raven was gone, only to be replaced by a Raven who demands answers without backing down.

After a decent amount of pestering, Theressa snapped. She got intoxicated and sent Raven a drunken email detailing her with an answer. A lot of the words were slurred, filled with typos. It was clear how heavily intoxicated Theressa was while typing.

Nonetheless, the email was awful. No parents should even entertain those types of thoughts in their minds, let alone put it on paper.

It finally made sense why Raven spent her life being non-confrontational. Sometimes the truth is so horrifying that it's best if it was never uttered.

Theressa told Raven that she never wanted the responsibilities of being a mother.  That Raven was an accident. Theressa wanted to continue her career as a model but her religious boyfriend (aka Uncle John) would not allow her to get an abortion.

Theressa even admitted that if they didn’t have children, she would have taken Uncle John along with her to Europe when she was first offered a job. It was too much responsibility to take a child so, she left them both behind.

She blamed Raven for their separation.

Theressa even said that she couldn't take Uncle John back while he lived in Africa without having to explain why the family was reuniting while Raven was being left behind in New York. She talked about how it would have further destroyed her image in front of everyone they knew.

It really was an awful email, and hard to digest.

Worst of all, I think Raven believed them that she is the reason for driving a wedge in their marriage.

Theressa is such a fucking narcissistic bitch.

I had shake my head multiple times while reading that email. It was tough pill to swallow.

Something like this can push you over the edge. I know Milo and I are too jaded about Tessa's opinion. But Mia is not, and neither is Raven.

If Mia had received that email from Tessa, it would have been a one-way ticket to the looney bin.

How the hell has Raven been dealing with this, especially without the Sinclair clan support?

So, when Janeen suggested this trip, something inside me knew that I couldn't say no.

Ever since sending that email, both of her parents have been drowning in guilt.

From what I have heard, they have been trying to make amends with their daughter. But from the looks of it, I don't think their efforts are working.

I noticed the changes in Raven the moment she walked in. I might have been distracted by her beauty, but I also noticed the dark circles around her eyes. She looks anorexic, and void of life.

I start scrounging around for alcohol from the fully stocked fridge while I wait for Raven to get ready.

This is going to be a long weekend.

-----------

This weekend flew by. I thought it was going to be excruciating. A disaster. In reality, it wasn't half bad.

It’s difficult to get a rise out of Raven. Derailing her has no effect because she doesn’t react. Nor did she hold any grudges about how I spoke to her the last time we saw each other. So, it was easy to act civil.

The first night we got to Costa Rica, we went out to dinner. Our friends arrived later that night, giving Raven and I time to catch up and “make amends.”

We ended up talking for hours. I wouldn’t say that “we made up,” but we got along.

I’d still never see her as that girl I once loved. However, after years of feeling dead on the inside I finally felt emotions again which was exhilarating.

I could tell that the same was true for Raven. When I first saw her at that doorway, there was a spark missing in Raven. She looked as dead as I felt.

But throughout the weekend the color on her cheeks came back. She was lively again.

We learned a lot about each other's new lives.

Raven is currently attending IFA in Paris for her undergraduate degree. It’s a three-year program. Despite what happened with her parents, Raven still wants to follow through with her commitment to work with her Mom. She really needs to stop loving people unconditionally. Some people don't deserve her love.

As for me, I decided to go to New York University. My undergraduate is a four year program, so Raven is going to graduate before me.

We never discussed Milo again.

Other than that, the weekend was filled with debauchery after our friends arrived.

It felt like the old Reid and Raven, especially when we performed a whole soliloquy of musical numbers after everyone else went to sleep.

No tune.

No musical talent.

All the wrong lyrics.

Nonetheless, we got drunk and sang our hearts out.

In a way so much has changed between us, but then again nothing has changed at all.

For the first time in so long I felt human again. When you are numb for so long, you are just existing in life. Any emotion starts to feel better than none at all.

Even if that emotion is slicing your heart open and watching it bleed to death.

And that’s how it felt.

When we departed at the airport, it felt that my heart sliced open as I watched her board that plane.

But I couldn’t chase after her, not after everything. I might only ever feel emotions and highs when I am around her, but I will never let myself go there.

Never again!

CHAPTER 6

Three Months Ago

December 28th, 2019

-----------

Reid

After the Costa Rica trip, Raven and I kept in touch here and there. The texts were polite at the beginning, just periodically checking in.

Within the month, the texts had developed into daily messages and by the start of summer we were hopping on daily phone and video calls.

Mid-way through summer, Raven invited me to visit her in Paris. I agreed.

One might suggest that none of this is a good idea. But feeling emotions became the highlight of my life. And I only ever felt emotions around one person.

Nothing was better than that feeling.

I’d never fall in love with her again, but I can’t live life denying what we mean to each other.

She will always be my best friend and my other half. I can’t change that.

This codependency we have on each other is not only sick but it’s also the only thing that makes me feel complete. So, I negotiated with myself.

I can allow myself small glimpses of her. It will be enough to make me feel again but not enough to destroy me.

She can’t destroy me again if I take her in small doses. Right?

Despite what I told myself, I counted down every single day till my flight to Paris.

Initially anxiety seeped through me at the idea of spending the summer in Paris again.

The last time I spent a summer in Paris with her, she sprung a boyfriend on me along with leaving my ass over a text message. But this time it was different.

I have heard through the grapevine that Raven had become quite popular with Parisian men over the last couple of years. That information created an odd sensation in my stomach, a feeling I chose to ignore.

Ever since we have reunited, the tune of that gossip has changed.

I think, and I can’t be sure, that Raven has figured out that I used to be in love with her.

In Costa Rica and in Paris she was diligent about never looking at another man. If anyone hit on her, she would immediately scoot away and stand behind me.

She deflected any and all male attention.

Raven has always been unaware of male attention, but suddenly she was on a mission to be extra cautious as not to flaunt anything in my face.

Which means that she knows and she is trying to be sensitive.

I never corrected her assumption that I have moved on. To be honest, I don’t know how I would feel if I saw her with another man.

It’s best if she thinks I have feelings for her and continues to never date anyone ever again.

I don’t want her but I don’t want anyone else having her either. I spent the first seventeen years of my life putting her happiness first. Now it’s her turn.

She owes me that much after all the shit she put me through. She can die a spinster, never knowing another man’s touch and that would be just fine by me.

It’s not like I am jealous or anything.

She is nothing more to me than just a friend.

A very beautiful friend.

A friend who seems to define my very existence.

A friend who I would never want to share with another man.

But just a friend nonetheless.

Yup! That’s all she is.

A friend.

Which is why I couldn’t understand why my heart sliced open yet again after the summer in Paris came to an end and I had to go back to New York.

And the entire semester I looked forward to my next break so I can fly back to Paris. The cycle repeated itself. I itched for every break so I could be back in Paris.

Through time, Raven reverted back to her old self. Her humor's back. The dark circles are gone. She even gained her curves back. Every time I go back to Paris, Raven is more vibrant. Full of life.

As am I. Every time I am with her, I am alive again. We are our best versions around each other.

So, at the beginning of the year we decided on another joint birthday party in Paris to celebrate our twenty-first birthday.

Mia and my parents flew in for the festivities. We celebrated that milestone together just like we always planned. Mia and I both stayed in Paris that summer.

Ever since my return from Paris, I went back to feeling like that hollow shell. I waited impatiently for my next trip with her; a New Year’s Eve trip to Barcelona.

Everyday closer to the trip was a struggle as the clock slowed down. I willed the ticking hands of the clock to move, to get me closer to my destination.

On the day of the trip I arrived at the airport four hours early, leaving no room for error to miss the flight.

You would think I’d be exhausted after an overnight flight. By the time I landed in Barcelona, it was like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on me.

I was alert, cognizant, and breathing.

Our friends decided to celebrate New Year’s Eve at some annual fancy party called Poble Espanyol. It’s held in a castle so all of our friends are extremely excited.

But I am only here for one reason.

Today is the day I get to see Raven again.

Today is the day I get to feel again.

Like a kid on Christmas, I have been jittery for days. My flight landed an hour ago but I am waiting anxiously for Raven at the airport, so we can take a taxi together.

“Hey, stud!” I hear Raven. I turn around to see a mass of black hair running towards me.

“Hi beautiful,” I have barely got the words out when two arms wrap around my neck.

My heart stops. And then it starts again. It starts to beat so hard that I feel like it's going to break out of my chest.

“How was your flight?” Raven breaks contact to inquire.

“Long. Wanna get out of here?”

“Yup, let’s go.”

Exiting the airport, we hail a taxi to the Airbnb. None of our other friends are here yet. So, we meet with the owners to check in.

Afterward, Raven makes a beeline upstairs to change out of her clothes.

I am waiting impatiently for Raven to come back downstairs. It’s only been a few minutes but her absence is already making this house way too quiet.

Where is she?

I tap my foot as I chug the beer I found in the refrigerator. The house is fully stocked with liquor and food. Finally, I hear her footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Already drinking?” She nods her head at my beer.

“The better question is, why aren’t you? We are on vacation.”

“Good point. Make me something.”

I grab the cocktail shaker and start working on a mixed drink.

There is something I have been meaning to ask her for months now. It's been in the back of my mind ever since we reunited. I have held off on this discussion for long enough. I need to clear the air.

I get right down to it.

“I know about you and Milo,” I blurt out.

I don’t want to hear her talk about Milo. I don’t even want to hear his name from her lips, but I need to get this out in the open.

Raven freezes in shock. She is tense. Her muscles are completely rigid. We are both quiet. The tension in the room is palpable.

We both stare at each other uncomfortably.

“I am sorry,” Raven finally speaks.

I shrug, as if this topic doesn't inwardly kill me. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

There is only one thing about her and Milo that I ever wondered about. It's the only reason why I am bringing this up.

“I need to know why,” I say point blank. “Why did you pursue him, and why did he pursue you?"

I feel my anger rising just at that little inquiry.

Raven opens her mouth but quickly closes it, contemplating something.

"Honestly, I was a dumb kid who had no business making life-altering decisions. Yet I did.” There is a sudden flicker of realization or some sort of acceptance that crosses her face. “We both did,” Raven mutters under her breath. “Milo was young as well. He made a mistake too.”

Raven stares down at her hands. A few moments pass by before Raven speaks again.

“Milo might have acted like a responsible adult, but he was the same age we are right now. Look at us. All we do is party and travel. He never got to have that experience because he took care of us. He was stunted in his own way.”

Raven doesn’t make eye contact and looks around the room. “Milo assumed I was this mature woman who could help him when I simply didn’t know any better. He made a horrible mistake with me. I was just—”

“—an escape from his shitty life,” I finish for Raven, unable to watch her like this. She looks so fucking broken right now.

Raven takes in a sharp inhale. “I am sure he has grown up a lot since we last saw each other. And I hope he has turned into the man he was always meant to be.”

Something in me says that Raven is hiding some crucial details along with her explanations. But to be honest, I don’t know if I can hear any more of this.

It was a bandaid that needed to be ripped off and now it’s out in the open. I confronted her and I rather that we never speak of this ever again. The thought of her and Milo makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.

“You were right, Reid,” Raven says suddenly.

“Right about what?”

“I am toxic,” she whispers. "I destroy everything that's good around me. Milo was all that's good, but after... everything got destroyed. I did that.”

I am stumped by Raven’s words.

Raven’s heart is breaking at just the reminder of whatever the hell happened between those two. She is quiet but I can see it. She believes the shit I told her when I was younger.

“Rave! No!” I say incredulously.

I am about to move from behind the counter and gather her in my arms when Raven abruptly stands. She turns around and walks up the stairs.

I stay rooted, staring behind her. I am incapable of moving.

I am so frustrated right now.

I want to throw things at the wall. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want to punch Milo in the face for whatever the hell happened between those two.

Most of all, I want to beat the shit out of my seventeen-year-old self for saying those things to her.

My heart is breaking in so many pieces right now. My heart is breaking because her heart is breaking.

That’s what happens when you share one heart.

And that’s when it slaps me right in the face.

The epic conclusion of my feelings.

It's the reason why I brought up the topic of Milo.  I needed to know why they wanted each other.

It’s like being stabbed in the chest as the realization courses through me. The one I locked in a coffin.

It’s something I already admitted to myself somewhere deep down but couldn’t get myself to acknowledge.

I am still madly in love with that emotionally damaged, frustratingly proud, overtly analytical, crazy female.

She is fucking crazy!

She is. She really is fucking crazy.

And I still fucking love her.

Could Raven ever feel that way about me? That’s the first thing that pops into my head.

Even if Raven did ever want me, could I ever get over what happened between her and Milo?

Does Raven still have feelings for Milo?

I don’t know.

I don’t know the answers to these questions.

All I do know is that I still love her. I am so in love with her that my next breath is impossible without her. I am so in love with her that every pain she feels, I feel ten folds more.

I can’t think straight.

My body is immobile but it doesn’t matter. I have to will myself to move because nothing is going to stop me from being by her side right now.

Not even my immobile body.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I rush upstairs. I search room by room for her. Finally, I find her crouched on the floor unpacking her luggage in the bedroom she selected.

“You are not toxic,” I say from the door frame.

“Oh, hey stud,” Raven looks up.

“You are not toxic,” I repeat.

“Actually, I am,” Raven whispers. “It’s obvious.”

“No. You are not,” I reiterate. “I was seventeen and a dumb kid when I said those things. I expected you to make all of your life decisions around me. It was an unfair expectation. I was angry and I said horrible things to you. I wish I could take it back. The truth is, you are the only one who made our family whole again. I just wanted to know why him because he was the one person I told you not to pursue. "

Raven looks up at me, and stares for a few minutes. “I was seventeen and a dumb kid,” she finally responds.

“You can’t use my own words against me Rave.”

“It’s the truth. I was young. I didn’t know any better. I got attention from an older man and I took it.”

“Raven, do you expect me to believe that? You have always been the most mature person in our group.”

Raven blasts to her feet. “See, that’s the problem," she says quietly. "People assume I am so mature. The truth is, I have always been slow to react. I need time to analyze things at my own speed. That’s the reason why I don’t lash out. People take that as me being wise beyond my age. I am not. I am indecisive. I am overly analytical. It’s not the best thing to hear but those are my flaws. Every human being is allowed to have them."

Raven stops her rant to take a deep breath. “I have no right to ask, but can you ever forgive me for this?”

“I have known for years. We are still standing, aren’t we?”

Raven jumps into my arms. We don’t need any more words. We just need each other. We always have.

I hold her as close as I can. I am holding her so tightly that I am probably squeezing the life out of her.

“Reid,” Raven snaps me out of my lull.

“Hmmm?”

“There is something else I have to tell you."

"What?"

"I am not working for Mom anymore.”

“You are not?”

“Mom’s business is suffering. We talked about it. She is going to shut down her business, and I decided to pursue my own career, separate from hers. I got an internship with Karen. It’s unpaid but working for Karen will be good for my resume. I am moving back to New York.”

Hope.

All the hope that I had ever buried when it comes to Raven is reigniting like flames in a forest fire. It’s spreading all throughout me.

Even as I tell myself to halt, all I feel is hope.

I have to slow my mind down. I just realized half an hour ago that I still love her. We just talked about the biggest hurdle in our lives. I can’t get ahead of myself.

I have to pump the brakes on my racing mind.

Yet, I can’t stop.

Raven will be in the same city as me.

Proximity.

Proximity means possibility.

In the back of my mind, one of my doubts is immediately appeased. If we are in the same city again, then there is a possibility.

I still don’t know how she feels about me. Since we have reignited our friendship, something is different between us. Something has changed in our dynamic. I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s just a feeling. A vibe. Our friendship feels… intimate.

Could she, after all these years, possibly want more?

Even if she does, my biggest hindrance is still at large. Could I get over what happened between Raven and Milo? Could I ever get over it enough so I could be the man she deserves?

Or would I just resent her? I couldn’t deal with myself if I hurt her because I couldn’t get past it. Until I know for sure, I can’t choose anything different for us.

So I don’t say anything else. I kiss the top of her head and keep her locked in my arms.

CHAPTER 7

Few Days Ago

March 8th, 2020

-----------

Reid

“What are you going to do?” I ask as I refrain from rolling my eyes.

“I will figure it out, I always do,” Raven says with a wave of her hand, casting me her usual nonchalant glance.

“This is ridiculous.”

We are at Raven’s place. It’s in a shitty neighborhood and she shares the apartment with two weirdos.

I hate that she lives here. No matter how many times I have asked her to, she refuses to move back to our family house.

If I hadn’t already signed with my dorm for the year, I would have got an apartment with her.

My irritation is rising but I decide that a positive attitude is more productive in this situation.

My optimism quickly dissipates as I look around. Raven is sorting through the mail on the table. One of the dining table chairs is broken. The smoke alarm is hanging off the ceiling. The paint on the wall is chipping off. There is an open electric line.

I can’t help the pang of pain I feel over her staying in this disgusting hole in the wall that she passes off as home.

I had no choice but to suck it up and let her go through with this. Raven is stubborn as a mule. She refused all of my offers for help. She won’t take money from me because Milo is my source of income. She threatens not to talk to me even if I buy her groceries.

However, I am not holding back anymore. One way or another I am taking her away from this shithole. She is going to move back home with me.

“Rave, I am moving home too. Move back with me. I don’t understand the problem.”

Raven smiles again. “Reid, there is no problem. I am fine.”

“You just lost your job.”

“I have savings.”

“Rave, we both know that’s a lie. What is the big deal anyway? I will be there. Stay with me. Rave, just move back home.”

“This is my home.”

“This is not your home. Plus, you don’t even have a source of income anymore. You won’t be able to pay rent. What logical reason could you possibly have to keep living here?”

Raven is quiet.

I continue my rant. I have to make her see reason. “You have no financial support coming in and you have debt up to your neck. You are barely making rent and groceries as it is. What do you plan to do without a job? You won’t take money from me because it’s Milo’s money. And unlike Milo, I won’t come into my trust fund till we are twenty-two which is still two months away. I can pay off your debt then but what do you plan to do in the meanwhile. You are a rational person Raven. Give me a rational answer.”

I know I am being harsh but Raven is being impossible. I don't know how else to get through to her. Why is she being so unreasonable?

Then it hits me.

Milo.

That’s why she doesn’t want to move back home.

Raven never went into details about her “relationship” with Milo. I don’t know the extent of their affair. As far as I am concerned, they had a one-night stand after which Raven left for Paris.

That visual alone shut down everything inside of me for years on end. I can’t even consider the possibility that they might have shared anything more than one night together.

“Is it because of Milo?” I ask suspiciously.

“What?” Raven tenses.

My suspicions are confirmed. It is because of Milo. Irritation surges through me.

Why does she still care so much? He doesn’t!

Following the irritation comes my anger. I feel like that fifteen-year boy again. Raging hormones. Out of control. Out of my mind.

“Milo,” I repeat angrily. “Is this because of him?”

“Just trust me when I say that it’s not a good idea for me to go back to that house.”

“Why don’t you want to be around him?” I press.

“He is still angry with me over how I left,” Raven says faintly. “I am not ready to face him. You know me. I hate confrontations.”

I don’t want her around him either. As much as I hate for them to be in close proximity, Raven’s well being is more important than my jealousy.

Plus, seeing them together will determine whether or not I can deal with their past. If Raven still has unfinished business with Milo, then I need to know.

I refuse to be her second choice yet again. I need her to choose me over him. For that to happen, they need to be in the same room together.

“Look Rave, everyone is moving back. How awkward can it be with everyone around? He works all the time so you’ll probably never even see him. Plus, you already live in New York. You are going to see each other sooner or later. You might as well bury the hatchet.”

Raven stares at me and I know that my logical words are getting through to her.

“If it makes you feel better,” I continue, “I will stick by you every second of the day.”

“Even while I sleep?” she asks meekly.

I laugh. “I’ll move into your damn room if you want. I have no other commitments after moving back home. You’ll never be alone, so you can avoid an awkward conversation with Milo for as long as you want.”

Raven takes a deep breath, and nods firmly. “I guess I am moving back home.”

I give her a kiss on the cheek. “You are making the right decision.”

CHAPTER 8

March 11th, 2020

-----------

Reid

It takes a few days to move my things and all of Raven’s things into the house. We are finally settled in, but something is off.

Raven seems down. Her spirit is heavy and her smiles are few and far between.

Last night I thought she was having a mental breakdown. We went to her room and she kept staring at a spot on the carpet by the bed.

Later, I caught her trying to scrub the carpet with some paper towel and bleach.

There is something going on with her.

I decide to go on a long run to clear my head. After I am back, I take my shirt off and throw it in the hamper when I notice a few texts from Raven.

I peek into her room, calling out her name. Then I hear the shower running and notice that the bathroom door is wide open.

That’s odd.

None of us, other than our parents, knock when we enter each other’s rooms. So, if you are indecent, you lock the door. If you are in the bathroom, you lock the door.

Something tells me that Raven is not showering. I poke my head inside to see Raven standing under the showerhead. She is fully clothed in her black tank top and a pair of sleeping shorts.

She is staring blankly at the wall in front of her as the water is falling on her.

Who the hell stands under a shower while fully clothed? I told you this woman is completely insane.

Why does God make me love an insane woman?

What kind of punishment is this?

I walk closer to the shower and open the shower door. I stand there but she still hasn’t noticed me.

“Rave? What’s going on?”

Raven snaps out of her glazed look and turns her head to the side.

“Oh! Hey, stud.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask more gently.

“Nothing. Can you give me a few minutes?”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no. I am going to stand here with you.”

“If you are going to stand there then close the door. You are letting all the steam out.”

I step inside the shower in my gym shorts and stand behind her. The shower is large enough to maintain a safe distance from the water.

“Okay, stupid. I meant, stand on the other side of the closed door,” Raven laughs.

“I’ve made my decision. I am standing here in case you change your mind about talking.”

Raven seems surprised by my move, but doesn’t argue. We are both quiet as minutes pass.

I am still standing behind her, observing her and trying to get a read on her. There is more to the story of Raven’s history with this house. I just know it.

“You never explained why you left New York so suddenly,” I finally speak.

Raven doesn’t respond.

“Why did you leave New York so suddenly?” I ask more forcefully this time.

“I-I… a few things happened that were hard for me to deal with at that time. I hurt you. I slept with Milo. Things with Milo got out of control. If I stayed… it would have happened again. So, I left.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I frown at the information. “You could have just told Milo that it was a mistake. You both could have chosen to move forward from it. You didn’t have to move to Paris. All you had to do was end it if you felt like you were betraying me.”

“Why are you so positive that I didn’t try to end things with him?” Raven mutters.

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“If you ended things with him then why were you worried that it would happen again?” I ask in an irritated voice.

My anger is getting the best of me. It’s resonating with every word and the tension in the shower is palpable. But everything I am saying is true. Moving to Paris was drastic. She didn’t have to leave me.

All she had to do was tell Milo that they made a mistake. We could have all moved on with our lives.

She should have stayed in New York like we had always planned.

But in typical Raven fashion, she didn’t want to deal with any awkwardness with Milo.

Well tough!

She made her bed, then had sex on it with my brother, so she should have laid on it.

“It’s all in the past, Reid. It's not worth discussing,” Raven says tightly. “Milo did a lot for me. I am not going to tarnish his name in front of his younger brother. Can we just move on?”

I frown. “Tarnish his name? What did he do that would tarnish his name?”

Raven is quiet. Her shoulders are suddenly tense as if she didn’t mean to let that word slip out.

There is an odd sinking feeling in my stomach. There is more to this story just like I thought.

Raven has refused to divulge on what exactly made her leave New York so abruptly.

What could have happened that was so bad?

“Did he do something?” I ask more gently.

“W-what?” Raven stammers.

“Did Milo do something to you?”

My stomach flips as atrocious thoughts take root in my mind. It doesn’t make sense.

Milo would never hurt Raven. But my gut feeling is spiraling out of control.

“Did he hurt you?” I whisper.

Raven continues to stay quiet.

What. The. Fuck.

I wish she’d just tell me because my mind is conjuring up the worst.

Did Milo hit her? I can't imagine that.

Did he do something sexually? I saw them together. There was nothing kinky about the act.

“Did he hurt you?” I ask again. My whole body is shaking and I feel like the ground below is about to cave.

What did he do that was so bad?  What could have happened between them that deserves this kind of reaction?

Raven twists her torso. “Reid stop! Milo did not hurt me,” she says quickly.

“Then what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” she mutters.

I don’t believe her. There is something off about this whole situation.

“If he even hurt a hair on your head—”

“Reid, stop,” Raven says more forcefully this time. “You are being ridiculous. Of course Milo didn’t hurt me. How could you even think that?”

Lies.

She is telling me all lies. Why is she lying?

Fine. If she doesn’t want to talk about Milo, there is something else we can discuss.

This Milo topic is spurring on emotions of my own. I already suspect that she knows somewhat of how I feel about her. I might as well put it all out on the table. It’s finally time.

Neither of us have directly addressed the issue. Twenty-one years and we have never once talked about the elephant in the room.

“When you and Milo hooked up, did you know how I felt about you?”

I let the words sink in. My heart is beating in anticipation of her answer.

Raven is quiet for so long that my suspicions are confirmed. Even though I assumed that she might know, I still can’t help the irrational anger that courses through me.

“You knew!” I growl as I grab her by the back of her shoulders. I don’t move because I am too scared of what I might do if I move.

Raven jumps from the volume of my voice that echoes through the bathroom. I am shaking from anger and I have no idea how to calm down.

“You knew how I felt about you, but you did it anyway. You fucked my brother, Raven. How could you do that to me?”

“I didn’t know,” Raven bites back. “Not at the time. Once I found out, I was mortified to know what I did. I didn’t want to keep hurting you. That was one of the reasons why I left. I made a mistake with Milo. I tried my best to fix it but instead, it just made you hate me.”

“That doesn't make sense,” I yell back.

Our voices echo in the enclosed shower as our words bounce between the walls.

“What do you mean you’d keep betraying me if you stayed? All you had to do was not have sex with him again. Why couldn’t you just do that? How hard is it to keep your knees together? Or were you so enthralled by the great Milo Sinclair like every woman in New York that you couldn’t possibly be in close proximity without having to fuck him again? Tell me!”

“I made a mistake,” Raven says quietly. “I told you that. After it was all over, I just had to get away from here. That’s all there is to it.”

I am quiet. We are just going around in circles. Raven’s not giving me a straight answer about why she left. And my anger is not dying down.

She still pursued Milo after I told her not to. Even if she didn’t know how I felt about her, that betrayal alone is a hard pill to swallow.

Actually, the hardest pill to swallow is the possibility that she might never feel that way about me.

“When I was younger, I always thought we would somehow end up together,” I say in a low voice. “I thought you would snap out of your cynicism. I thought you’d get over whatever fascination you had with older men. I thought you’d finally see me.” I shake my head. “What is so hateful and unlovable about me that you couldn't possibly see me in that light?”

Raven gives out a husky laugh.

Anger rinses through me again. I am pouring my heart out and she is laughing in my face. My fingers flex into her shoulders, tightening the grip.

“When I was younger, I always thought we would somehow end up together,” Raven mutters my own words back to me. But her next few words fill my words with the meaning I have been craving all of my life.

“Everyone always told us that we’d end up together. An optimistic side of me thought that’s where life would lead us. This was before my cynicism for love. This was before my parents’ separation. This was before I saw Tessa and Uncle Reese. This was before we became part of the same family. I didn’t see you that way after growing up. But when I was little I used to spend hours writing Mrs. Reid Sinclair in my notebook. So, there is nothing hateful or unlovable about you, Reid. You can make any girl fall in love with you. I was broken for years, and you put me back together. You are the best man that I have ever known."

I can’t move.

All these years.

All of my failed attempts to tell her how I feel.

She felt the same way I did when we were younger.

She felt that way before her parents’ separation. Before she saw my parents falling apart. Before whatever the hell happened between her and Milo.

If she felt that way before, could she feel that way again?

Right then and there I receive the answer to the last question in my mind.

Could I ever get past the fact that Raven slept with Milo?

I can.

Because the moment she said those words, none of the rest mattered anymore.

I am not concerned about right or wrong. I don’t care if she slept with my brother. She is the only thing I have truly ever wanted, and I can’t live without her.

I move on my own accord. Without direction. Without a plan. I move closer to her body.

I lean over, move her long dark hair off to one shoulder, and place a small kiss on her neck. I stop for a heart-pounding second as I breathe in her scent.

I am paralyzed in place. Just the little act has me wound up within myself.

Raven tenses.

Without giving her a chance to react I turn her around. I grab her by the waist and pin her against the shower wall.

Before Raven can say anything more, my lips come colliding against hers. One of my hands goes in her hair while the other goes to cup her face. I kiss her aggressively so she knows what I am pouring into this.

Years of yearning, longing, pining, all of it comes out in one kiss. I kiss her like it’s the last time I will ever kiss anyone in my life. I push my tongue inside her mouth and start exploring her. Her soft lips, her moist mouth; it’s all I have ever wanted.

It’s electrifying. It’s dynamic.

The hot water has run out and we are being doused by cold water. Even the cold water doesn’t affect how hard I am right now.

My breathing shudders. My heart is racing. My ears are pounding. I am kissing her desperately.

This is everything. This is what I have wanted all my life. I am never willing to let go.

But Raven is, she is willing to let go. Raven gently pushes me back. Her eyes are lowered. She hasn’t said anything but I still need to know.

“Why?” is all I can manage to ask. She knows what I am asking. Why is she stopping this? This is what we have both wanted since we were babies.

“You know why.”

“Because of Milo?”

“Reid, we were just kids when I felt that way. It was a long time ago. A lot has changed since then. I have made a lot of bad decisions in my life. I am working on cleaning up my mess. I have to make better decisions moving forward. This is not it.”

“Raven—”

“Please, Reid. Don’t make me into this person. I told you that I owe you my life. You helped me turn my life around. I would do almost anything for you. I love you with all of my heart. I could give you my kidney. Hell, I’d give you every single one of my organs if you need it. I’d die for you. But I can’t do this for you. Don’t make me the person who can’t face themselves because they are disgusted by their behavior."

My head is resting on her neck. I want this more than my next breath. I have never wanted anything so much in my life.

But I know Raven. I know why she wants to stop. It’s because she slept with Milo. She couldn’t deal with herself if she felt cheap. And if I push her right now, that’s how I would make her feel.

I can’t do that to Raven.

Not if she is going to lose herself as a result.

That’s not love.

I slowly step back and let her go. Turning around I exit the shower as Raven turns off the water.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I head back to my own room.

CHAPTER 9

March 12th, 2020

-----------

Reid

I didn't sleep at all last night.

I stayed up all night thinking about that kiss. It was a kiss that was almost twenty-two years in the making and it did not disappoint.

I just wished we could have finished it.

We wouldn’t be here if I had just told her how I felt. I should have told her when we were twelve instead of waiting for a whole decade.

Then there would have been no one else for us but each other. We could have been pure, preserved, the way our love was always meant to be.

And now some of it is tainted.

Nonetheless, it’s still pure in its own way because what I feel for her is the purest form of love anyone has ever experienced.

Raven told me that she also thought that we might end up together. But after she grew up, she lost her faith in love. Maybe I just need to re-instill that faith in her again.

I could show her what it would be like if we were to be together. I could show her the world. I’d make her my everything and she’d know that true love exists. Because it does for us. She just needs to open her eyes and see it. She needs to give us a chance because I can’t go back to how things were.

Not after that kiss.

I have been moving the remaining things back from my dorm all day. Raven has been at work. We haven’t had any interaction.

The last day of her internship is tomorrow before the office closes down. I’ll be busy tomorrow as well, tying up more loose ends on campus.

So, I have to address this with her and it has to be now. It’s ten pm but Raven is still up.

“Hey, beautiful,” I poke my head in.

Raven smiles nervously. “Hey, stud. How was the move?”

“It was exhausting. I have to go back really early tomorrow. I have a few more things to take care of. I will be gone all day again so I wanted to check in with you.”

I step into the room. Raven is sitting on the bed with her laptop out. Her floor is covered with boxes and clothes. The room looks like Tessa’s room back in the day. It’s a mess.

“Did you have a good day?” I move a couple of things around to join her on the bed.

“Mostly. I have been unpacking and changing up the room.”

“I think almost everyone is officially moving in  tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

I eye her tentatively. She doesn’t sound thrilled by the news. I already know that she doesn’t want to see Milo. I don’t want to be another person she has a strained relationship with. We have to sort this out.

Raven beats me to it. “Reid, we need to talk.”

I nod in agreement. “Yes, we do.”

“Reid,” Raven starts. “I can’t lose you. You are my best—”

“I love you!” I blurt it out before I can stop myself.

I can’t listen to her tell me how I am her best friend. How I am her brother from another mother. I love her. I always have. She has already guessed it. I need to man up and say it. I owe it to myself to say it at least once.

“And I love you,” Raven says.

“You know that’s not how I meant it. At least have enough respect for me not to condescend me.”

This conversation is quickly going south. That’s the thing with rejection. It can flip something inside of you. It haunts you.

I have lived with years of rejection. First from my mother and then from Raven. It’s all coming back in a flash. and it’s boiling down to this moment.

I have finally told her what I have felt for years. And somewhere deep down I had hoped for a different result. For a different response.

“I am sorry,” Raven concedes. “You are right. Look, when we were little our families joked we’d end up together. It was ingrained into both of us. Somewhere deep inside my optimistic mind, I thought that could be a possibility. But as I grew up, I saw the ugly side of love. I lost faith and the faith has never been quite restored in me. So, I shelved that idea away.”

Raven stands up to pace. So, I stand as well.

“After we grew up, I saw you as my family member,” Raven continues. “As far as I am concerned, you and Mia are my only family. I don’t know how to give you any more than that. The side-effects of romantic love has always been my destruction. Every bad thing that has ever happened in my life stemmed from the romantic kind of love. Can you at least understand that?”

“Just because that happened to other people doesn’t mean it will happen to us. We are different. We are best friends—”

“I also thought Milo was my best friend,” Raven mutters and looks at that same spot on the carpet that she was cleaning the other day.

Did she spill something there?

She is not one to be OCD about cleaning. I can’t focus on that right now. I am too hyped up to focus.

“So, this is about Milo?”

“Yes,” Raven sighs. “I can’t fathom being the slut who is passed back and forth between the Sinclair brothers.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

“Yet, that’s how it is.”

I close my eyes. “Rave, please…”

“There are also other things that scare the shit out of me. Milo used to be my best friend, but our friendship changed and within a short time frame, it destroyed everything. My relationship with you. My friendship with Milo. It cost me my family. It cost me everything I cared about. I walked around like a corpse. That’s the after-effect of romance. It destroys and burns until there is nothing left. I am sorry Reid. I can’t risk that. I can’t risk losing you.”

I understand what she is saying. I truly do. Raven doesn’t want to feel cheap. And if anyone has had bad experiences with love, it’s Raven.

But I can’t do this anymore either. Not even for her. There is no going back for me. I am not angry at her. I am just sad. I can’t be around her and feel this way.

This is torture.

“Raven, I am sorry. I can’t do this,” I say quietly. “I can’t be just your friend anymore. It’s too hard.”

Raven stops short and stares at me with wide eyes that are screaming with shock. I turn around to leave but Raven lunges at my back and covers me with a hug.

“Please, please Reid. Don’t do this again. You know about my pride. I am checking all of that at the door. I’ll beg you if you want. Please don’t end our friendship again. I can’t live without you.”

I don’t turn around. I speak quietly with my face still turned away. “If you can’t live without me then why can’t you be with me?”

“Reid, I already told you—”

This time I turn and grab Raven by the arms. “You told me that you don’t want to be passed around between the Sinclair brothers. But no one else even knows about you guys, and we can tell Milo not to say anything either. It was years ago. Milo has more than moved on. It can be like it never happened. I am the only one who has a right to be pissed and even I don’t care. I don’t care about anything that keeps you from me. So, what the hell is the problem?” I growl.

Raven opens her mouth but I cut her off. I am not done with my tirade.

“You once told me that true love is familial love and friendship love. Guess what? I am your best fucking friend. I am your family. Then by your own definition, I am the only true love you will ever know.”

“Reid, I—”

“No, Raven! No more excuses. I love you. I have loved you since we were born. Enough already. I am not even asking you to say it back. I am just asking for a chance. Just try. If I am truly your soulmate, then why can’t you at least try?”

“It’s complicated, Reid. I just can’t.”

“Then I can’t be around you. I can’t watch you with someone else. It will kill me.”

“There is no one else,” Raven shrieks. “If you haven’t noticed there hasn’t been anyone in the last two years. I don’t care to be with anyone.”

I pull Raven into my arms by her waist. Raven looks reluctant but stays put.

“Rave,” I say softly as I put my forehead to hers. “You told me that you can’t live without me. I can’t live without you either. You are telling me that you don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t want to be with anyone else either. So why can’t we be together and try to make each other happy? Maybe in the beginning it will only make me happy, but I know with time I can make you happy too. You just have to give this a chance. If you don’t plan to be with anyone else then what do you have to lose?”

Raven is quiet. Her eyes are closed, forehead resting against mine.

“I thought you and Milo being together would have been my deal breaker. It wasn't. If I can come back from the fact that you slept with my brother, I truly know that I can never move on from you,” I admit.

Deep down I know what this is about. I figured it out after she moved back here.

Raven has something unfinished with Milo that she never quite let go. She didn’t want to come back here or face him because she didn’t want to risk betraying me again.

I wanted her to come back and face him. I wanted to see if they still had something.

However, after we finally kissed, Raven exploring any sort of possibility with Milo is too risky. There are only two ways that can go down.

Raven was seventeen when she didn’t want to sacrifice our friendship over Milo. At that time Milo was a mess. Now, she might spend time with a more grown up Milo and perceive the risks of losing our friendship differently if she values an adult relationship more.

The only solace I can take is that Milo doesn’t feel that way about Raven. He is married to his job. However, the sting would still hurt.

The second path is Raven getting over the pull she has with Milo. She has already lived years without him. She is capable of living without him as long as she doesn’t explore more.

She needs a final push to choose Option B.

Your soul mate knows what to say to make you hate them. They also know what to say to make you fall freely into their arms.

Everything I am about to tell her is true. I am simply choosing to verbalize her inner most desires with words that will resonate.

“Rave, you are my family. You are my everything. If we are together, you’ll never be alone. I am buying a condo after I come into my trust fund. If we are in a relationship, we can move in together. Mia also asked to live with me. We can be a family again. If you decide to be with me, you’ll have everything you ever wanted. If you don’t even want to consider what we could be, then you’ll lose everything right now.”

Raven has a glossy look on her face. I finally have her attention. I can see the wheels turning in her head.

Raven’s body language is finally complacent in my arms.

I don’t waste a second.

I reach over and kiss her cheek.

I press another kiss closer to the corner of her mouth. This time I hover right above her lips. I am breathing heavily.

Raven is staring at me through glazed eyes. I kiss her lower lip gently and linger. I slowly lick her lower lip and Raven finally stirs.

“Reid,” she puts one hand on my chest to push me away. I don’t budge.

“Rave, just take some time to think about it,” I say hoarsely. “Use all of your crazy analytical skills, the pros and cons list you need to make, and anything else you need to do. I’ll be gone all day tomorrow. I’ll give you the space you need. I am not asking for much here.”

Raven doesn’t respond.

I kiss her lower lip again. This time one of my hands palm her face while the other pulls her waist to bring her closer to me. I start kissing her like a maniac. My hand goes in her hair sifting through. My tongue is exploring her mouth.

Her smell.

Her hair.

The shape of her body under my hand.

Everything. Everything about this woman drives me crazy. Drives me out of my mind.

I little too soon Raven breaks the kiss. I am panting. I want more, but she already gave in. I can’t push her right now.

“Neither of us wants to be with anyone else so we have all the time. Just think about it, for my sake. It’s not too much to ask for, is it?”

Raven shakes her head. “No, it’s not,” she sighs. “I will think about it, I promise.”

“Good.” I close my eyes and let my forehead fall back to hers.

I kiss her gently one more time on the lips.

“Okay, I am going to go to my room before I start getting dirty ideas.”

Raven laughs. It still feels natural between us. We are already joined at the hips. The progression of a relationship between us wouldn't change our dynamic all that much.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I give her one last kiss. I can’t stop kissing her. I never want to stop kissing her ever again.

“Goodnight, stud, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

I stride out of Raven’s room. After years, there is a weight that’s been lifted off my chest.

We can do this. I have a feeling that Raven will get over her reservations. I can remind her why she used to write Mrs. Reid Sinclair in her notebook when she was little.

Then a thought occurs to me.

I could turn that into a reality.

What do I have to lose?

I already know if she agrees to a relationship, I am going to marry her. We have basically been together for twenty-two years. If you think about it, we should have been married by now.

I have sowed my wild oats. Meaningless sex. Endless parties. I am over it. I was over it before I even started. There is only one woman I have ever wanted to have sex with. There is only one person I have ever wanted to party with.

We can travel the world together. We can get to know each other intimately. I can convince her to get married. She can work on her fashion design career without having to work a part-time job.

Raven won’t have a problem with me paying the bills as long as it’s not Milo’s money. We are like one person. My money has always been hers and everything she has is mine. It’s always been that way between us.

It’s only since Milo started supporting me that she has felt reluctant about accepting my help.

We are already like an old married couple. Once I have my job and trust fund, I can make that into our reality. We can live the life I have always wanted.

There is one more thing that I have to take care of before. I have to talk to Milo. I have to do right by Raven.

I am sure Milo is long over whatever happened between them. But I still have to make sure that he never tells anyone.

Stepping into my room, I try his cell phone. No answer. He is probably busy with work. Milo travels all over for his business. I am racking my brain. What city would he be in today?

I haven’t even told him that Raven is moving back to the house. I should tell him before he gets here. I type out a text, in case I don’t get a call back from him until he comes home.

Reid: Hey, bro, heads up. Raven is back in NYC & moving back to the house. And… I’m going to ask her to be my girlfriend. Long story, but I think she is going to say “yes.”

I think about it and then send another text.

Reid: Btw, I need you to pretend like you and Raven never hooked up. She is feeling awkward enough about the whole thing. Yes, I found out about you two. No, I’m not mad… anymore. But as payback, I am swiping grandma’s ring. I’m giving her two weeks before popping the question.

CHAPTER 10

March 13th, 2020

-----------

Reid

Years of fucking waiting leading up to one damn day. It can’t come soon enough.

I should have picked a better date than Friday, the 13th. This date is inauspicious on its own.

However, I can’t help feeling optimistic. I know what I am asking of her is selfish. I am twisting her arm into a relationship with me. But it only makes logical sense to me.

I know in the beginning a romantic relationship between us might only make me happy. I will finally get to be with the woman of my dreams.

But I am positive that over time she will warm up to an intimate relationship between us. I can break down her walls. I can show her that she can love me and it will be the kind of love she always wanted.

Unconditional. Fierce.

I am tying up some loose ends on campus. I was going to stay on campus for a little while longer. However, Mia just texted me asking me to come home early.

Milo is back and asked Mia to gather everyone for a family meeting.

Uncle John and Theressa just moved back to the USA. They were in Boston to gather their remaining belongings from their storage unit. They are also arriving today and officially moving in. Mia and my parents are supposed to pick them up.

Our house is going to be packed at full capacity for the next few weeks. Milo had sent one of his curt emails last week that he wants to discuss living arrangements when everyone officially moves back home, so we don’t drive each other insane.

It makes sense.

Hailing a cab, I make my way over.

I can’t help but feel overly optimistic. I have a couple of months left until graduation. I have been scouted by investment companies and I have two job offers lined up. Both of them will pay me in six figures. Plus, I am coming into my trust fund in two months. Financially, I am set. As soon as my trust fund kicks in, I am going to buy that condo for Raven and me.

I know I am moving fast, but for me, it’s too slow. It’s been almost twenty-two years. I am ready to start our lives together.

I am excited about all of our possibilities and a future together. I am almost sprinting out of the cab by the time the driver pulls up.

Stepping through the front door, I see Mia coming towards me first.

“There you are.” Mia jumps into my arms.

“Hey, sis.” I give her a quick hug back. “Where is Raven?”

“She must still be at work,” Mia looks at the time on her phone. “Milo wanted to figure out the living arrangements. We have never had so many people living in the house before.”

“I know. Where is everyone else?”

“We just picked up the Becketts. They are upstairs in the guest room; unpacking. Mom and Dad are in the kitchen. I saw Milo’s jacket on the living room chair so I am guessing he is in his room.”

“Alright, then let’s go see him. Grab Mom and Dad. I will grab the Becketts.”

Mia goes to the kitchen to grab my parents. I walk upstairs to find the Becketts in the guest room. After we exchange pleasantries, we congregate at the top of the stairs.

Milo still hasn’t come out of his room so we decide to walk to his room instead.

Raven hasn’t come home from work yet, which is weird. I bet she is trying to avoid Milo for as long as possible.

We make our way through the narrow hallway and turn the corner. Mom is just about to knock on the door when we all stop short as Milo’s door suddenly flies open.

We are expecting Milo to pop out, but someone else comes out from behind the door.

Raven!

Wrapped in nothing but a bedsheet, completely naked underneath, there is Raven standing at the door frame. At Milo’s door frame. And right behind her is Milo, in an equally compromising position.

MOTHERFUCKER!

Table of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Introduction

Prologue

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

AUTHOR'S NOTE

BONUS BOOK

DESOLATE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10