Lily is fully clothed, sitting in the tub as shower water sprays down on her. She shivers, her arms clinging around her legs, and her knees pressed to her chest. Her black long-sleeve shirt is wet and suctions to her thin body.
As I shut off the faucet, the shower pours on my arm, the water freezing cold. It almost jolts me backwards.
What is Lily’s fucking obsession with having meltdowns in tubs?
Lo jumps in, soaking his pants, and he holds Lily’s colorless cheeks steadily. “Lil, talk to me.” His voice is choked, pained beyond belief. Before the shower cuts off, it douses him, his light brown hair wet, and beads of water rolling down his razor-sharp cheeks.
She looks fragile in his clutch, but my brother seems just as broken, just as dark and pained. My heart pounds as I watch her hurt exchange between them. Without the water gushing, her sobs echo in the high-ceilinged bathroom. Heavy sobs that morph into cries.
“Lil, shhh,” Lo says. “You’re okay.”
I step into the bathtub behind her and feel around with my foot, the ice cold soaking through my jeans. Then I squat and use my hands, searching for anything: razors, sex toys, all of the fucking above. I find the closed drain and lift it up so water begins pouring out.
“I’m…sorrrry…” Her teeth chatter and she buries her face into his shoulder.
“Sorry for what, Lil?” he whispers, rubbing her back to warm her body.
Rose is pacing by the sink, her phone at the ready, one minute from speed dialing either an ambulance or a psychiatrist.
I climb out of the tub, and Connor nods to me. “Anything?” he asks.
I shake my head and stand beside him on Lily’s purple bath rug.
“I meant to tell you…” Lily says under her breath, her tears still dripping, but they’re silent, accompanied by deep fucking sorrow. “Yesterday, I was going to… I got scared…” Her entire body quakes from being soaked with ice cold water, most likely done to combat her cravings. I’ve seen her do it before, but not like this. She usually jokes about it, making an ice bath, jumping in for two seconds before shrieking and running away. “Sexual urges be gone!” she’d say with a smile.
This is fucking different. This is way more intense.
Connor hands Lo a towel, and he wraps the soft purple cotton around her trembling frame.
“Lily…you can tell me anything,” Lo says.
“Not this.” She shakes her head, tears pooling down her cheeks. “Not this.”
She fucking cheated on him? I set my hands on my head at that gut prediction. She fucking cheated on him.
But then Lo takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers slowly, as if each one is more important than the next. His eyes stay focused on their hands, as if he can’t bear to look anywhere else. And I wonder if he thinks the same thing as me.
“You have to tell me, Lil,” he murmurs. “I can’t guess.” His voice turns into a choked whisper. “Please don’t make me guess.”
She nods repeatedly as if working herself up to it. No one speaks, too frightened that she might crumble into nothing at someone else’s interjection. She opens her mouth and then something must click because her expression flips from realization to complete devastation. “Do you think…you think I cheated?”
Lo looks heartbroken. “I don’t know, Lil,” he whispers. “You’ve been acting distant, and you didn’t come with me to Paris, so you had all that time alone… I just, I don’t…I don’t know.”
“I didn’t cheat,” she says with so much fucking conviction. “You have to believe me.” She searches his eyes for it.
I let out a breath. My brother exhales a fucking bigger one than me.
“I do, Lil.” He touches her cheek. “But you have to fucking tell me what’s going on.”
“I was upset…overwhelmed. And I wanted to do things and I just thought…this would help.” Her eyes flicker to the showerhead and back to her kneecaps, closing up again.
“Just spit it out,” Lo urges. “Whatever it is. Just get it off your chest right now, love.”
It’s her turn to stare at their hands. “I didn’t know how to tell you…I thought while you were in Paris, I’d figure out a good way to say it, but I don’t…I don’t think there’s a good way. And I just kept putting it off, thinking tomorrow will be the day.” She wipes her eyes quickly and with a deep breath, she says, “I’m eight weeks pregnant.” She barely looks at him.