Page 9 of The Other Side

He shakes his head, his brown eyes shutting briefly. “I’m sorry, I’m thrown off by the fact that Brant told you some sort of backstory.”

I smirk with unease, unraveling myself from Julia. My body rotates to pick my coffee back up, Sean’s wise-ass chuckle brushing my ear when I take a sip. Then I hear him mutter “this fucking guy” before answering Julia’s question.

“Yeah, it is,” he says. “After Brant and I roomed together at college, I rented my uncle’s second home. Once I landed a promising job in New York, I figured I could use some help paying the rent since I knew I’d be here for some time.”

“I love that so much,” Julia says.

Sean’s hand waves around the scene of the compact, postmodern kitchen. “It’s not anything big, but we like the style. It’s fitting, if the minimal design didn’t give that away.”

“Are you an architect too?”

“Construction manager.”

“Ah,” Julia replies with a simple bob of her head.

I gulp another drag of coffee before leveling my cup with hers. “Quality over quantity. Every time.”

“Cheers to that,” she adds. The ceramic of our mugs taps together before Julia’s departing. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I promised Ellie I’d be there for her wedding dress search today. Wish me luck.”

“Godspeed,” I toss with a soft salute.

Sean’s now at my left, rummaging through the cabinets when he calls out, “It was great to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Julia’s peering over her shoulder before walking the narrow hallway. “I’ll catch you on my way out.”

I nod, flashing her a knowing smirk.

“You should’ve just suggested she pick up a wedding dress for herself,” Sean quips, placing his bowl and a cereal box on the counter.

My head pokes to where he’s stationed now. “She’s cool.”

The corn flakes clink against the bowl as he responds, “No, honestly, I’m happy for you.” He shrugs gently, as if considering his next words carefully. “I know you’ve been procrastinating the bigger mission here out of fear, but you look content, bro. And maybe that’s worth looking into, you know?”

After knowing me for the past ten years, I’m positive he means that.

But he couldn’t be more wrong.

When I pulled the trigger and moved to New York, the goal was crystal clear—get her back. Bring her home. Everything was so obvious after that dream on the balcony of my Rhode Island apartment. I was so sure of my mission, calling Sean later that day to tell him to make room for me.

No questions were asked.

But the flashbacks still thunder in my mind. Howling at me to just let her be. Free her from all the horror I forced her to endure that night. Free her from the boy she wanted to cut loose that afternoon under those damn pine trees.

The revelation that swirled in her eyes that day haunts me without mercy. I could practically see the life she wanted beyond me. Without me. The vision was like salt to an open wound. I’m not sure I can survive seeing it brought to life.

Seeing her with another man?

I’d die from the chainsaw to my heart.

My throat rolls, numbly watching Sean’s arms and hands move with the preparation of his breakfast. I lift my fingers to the metal charm dangling from my necklace chain, my stomach pitching like clockwork.

It’s always two steps forward and one giant leap back.

“What’s with the face?” Sean mumbles mid-chew. His lower back is leaned against the counter as he balances the cereal bowl in his palm.

I shuffle, digging my free hand in the pocket of my joggers. “Nothing. I just have to make a call to a new client.”

“That bad?”