Until We Fly

Chapter Nineteen

Brand

Days are seamless here now.

We chat on the porch, we sit on the pier, we lie together in the hammock at night, watching the stars.

Each day, I think Nora will confide in me.

Each day, I think she’ll trust me enough to tell me what William did to her. I know, in my gut, what it was. But I can’t know it for a fact until she tells me.

Each day, she doesn’t.

Each night, I hold her until she falls asleep.

Each night, I try and steel myself against her, to keep from getting sucked in further.

Each day, I try not to trust the feelings that are growing, the attachment, the tenderness, the bond.

Each day, I realize I’m failing.

Nora

I watch Brand sleeping on the couch with a book on his chest. He’d fallen asleep an hour ago and ever since, I’ve watched him.

He’s so peaceful when he sleeps, his face so open.

I could watch him all day and all night.

But my phone dings, distracting me, filling my heart with dread.

I know… I know… the other shoe is getting ready to drop.

These past days have been too good, too comfortable, too perfect.

I approach my phone, and as innocuous as it seems lying on the kitchen counter, it might as well be poison, because when I pick it up and read William’s words, the toxin runs through my veins, pulsing through my heart.

I want to see you. Sunday. In the conference room of Greene Corp, just you and me. 2pm. Be there. You don’t want to know what will happen if you don’t show up. But here’s a hint: It involves your boyfriend.

I knew he’d been threatening Brand the other night with his text. You and your boyfriend fucked up.

I knew it. And I’ve been waiting with bated breath, every day, to see what he was going to do.

And here it is.

I’ve been summoned.

I’ll finally know.

I glance at Brand and I literally have to fight the urge not to shudder over what I’ve done. Being here could’ve put him at risk. Every day I wanted to tell him, every day I didn’t .

Each day, he’s been nicer and nicer to me, making it impossible for me to want to ruin it.

I didn’t want this fake little bubble that we’ve built here to burst… even though it was never real in the first place.

I should’ve told Brand from the very beginning that I’m encased in a bubble, my bubble is made of Swarovski crystal, and at the whim of my uncle or my father, I would drop to the floor and shatter.

But I didn’t.

Because I’m too selfish.

But the clock was ticking… seconds, hours, days.

And the time has come.

The other shoe is going to drop.