I felt bitter, useless, and fucking cheated.
What if my interference in her life had just delayed the inevitable? What if, by stepping in and paying for her heart transplant, I’d somehow just altered fate, and now, it was all catching up to us? Was this my punishment—getting her back, only to lose her all over again?
So many thoughts were swimming around in my head that I didn’t hear the door swing open or the sound of my brother’s voice until he was mere feet from my hunched over frame.
“You look like shit,” he said, his dark eyes taking in my appearance.
My eyes followed his gaze downward and nodded in agreement. My shirt was a wrinkled mess, half-untucked. I hadn’t shaved, and the cuffs of my sleeves were rolled up in a way that basically said, Fuck it.
“Feel like it, too,” I replied.
“So, what’s up?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he began walking around the room. “Newlyweds have a fight?”
“Don’t,” I warned, my blood turning cold.
“Oh, come on, Jude. You didn’t think it was going to be rainbows and unicorns the whole time, did you?”
I gave him a hard stare and watched as he smirked.
“Oh, you did.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I would have thought better of you than that, little brother. Marriage is . . . well, marriage is kind of like buying a hot new car. You drive that baby off the lot, take it for a spin, and think life couldn’t possibly get any better. But then, your baby needs an oil change and a tire rotation, and suddenly, something is leaking, and it’s all demand, demand, demand until you trade her in for a new model. That, or you just never buy in the first place. That’s my motto. Much simpler that way.”
My feet moved faster than my words, and I found him wedged between my fist and the wall. “Don’t ever speak of my marriage! Do you understand?”
Even though my hand was pointed at his face, he just smiled. “Testy today.”
My punch sent him to the floor as my lungs burned, and my vision blurred.
“Do you feel better?” he yelled, wiping blood from the corner of his lip. “Or do you need more?”
He stood up and slipped out of his jacket, tossing it to the side. Holding his arms out wide, he said, “Come on, Jude. Hit me again. Will it help? Punching your jackass brother around?”
I didn’t know why, but suddenly, Roman became the sole reason for every goddamn problem in my life. No amount of reason or logic could talk me out of my overwhelming need to put him in his place for destroying everything I’d worked so hard to achieve.
He held his own as I tackled him to the ground. I gave him one last punch before he retaliated. I felt a jab to my side as I pummeled his stomach. He got in a few good punches before I had him in a headlock. He was quick, but I was stronger—and fucking pissed.
With a grunt, I pushed him away from me, both of us heaving and gulping in breaths as fast as we could take them. I felt warm liquid trickling down my lip, and my tongue darted out to find the coppery taste of blood. I looked up and found Roman rubbing his side and mumbling under his breath.
“Lailah’s pregnant,” I said softly, finding a spot on the floor, as I nursed my wounds.
Roman’s head whipped around, and our eyes met.
He understood. He might not have been around much, but he was right on point with the risks and the weight of it all.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I have no clue,” I answered honestly.
“Does Mom know?” He walked over to the seating area, grabbed a couple of Kleenexes, and handed me one.
I held it to my mouth and felt a slight sting. “No. Please don’t tell her—not yet at least.”
He nodded silently. “Go home, Jude. You don’t belong here right now.”
I opened my mouth to protest, a hundred questions ready to fire off all at once.
“I’ve got it.”
I looked at him with a mixture of doubt and surprise.
“I can be a grown-up when I choose to be. Get the fuck out of here, and go be with your wife. This will all be here when you get back.”
I rose from my place on the floor, feeling every aching muscle in my body. Roman had been the one in the headlock, but he sure hadn’t gone down without a fight.
Grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair, I made my way to the door but stopped short. “Thanks, brother,” I said.
He nodded. “We both know I’m not doing this for you.”
“Either way, I’m grateful,” I replied before making my exit.
Ever since they’d met, Roman had developed a soft spot for my wife. Lailah would play it off and say it was just his budding humanity, but I didn’t agree. He had a driving need to protect her just like the rest of us did.
And right now, I needed all the help I could get.
As I stepped into the apartment, I noticed right away how quiet it was.
Too quiet.
“Lailah,” I called out.
Nothing.