Fractured Freedom: Chapter 23

I held the handle and took seven deep breaths. Seven. I could pull together a million lies and bury a million emotions in seven breaths.

Just seven. It was all I needed.

I swung open Dante’s door. I might have hesitated, taking one extra breath before my world crumbled. This was it. They were going to complete this operation, and that meant things were going to change.

They had to.

Twins and siblings are always on one another’s radar. We might live our lives separately, but there’s always a tiny worry or thought of what the others are doing. We are each other’s responsibilities. We are family and intertwined—sometimes in ways we don’t want to be.

I didn’t want to worry about Izzy.

Still, seeing her standing there reminded me that I had been. Tears were already in my eyes when I opened the door, but they poured out on seeing her there, even if I was furious with her, even if she was furious with me. I held open my arms, and her brow furrowed before she sighed and rushed into them.

At first, our muscles were taut, stiff, and uncomfortable. Our relationship hadn’t been nurtured or watered lately, and we’d already broken a ton of branches from our tree before she got out of jail.

Yet, I squeezed the girl with my same genetics so tight, as if I could consume her. Three minutes apart in age. Just three minutes. Somehow, we’d grown miles apart, but it didn’t matter.

We might have been very different, but all the moments we’d shared rushed back as I held her. We’d lost the same teeth within the same month, failed the same test questions in middle school, and hated the same freckles that popped up on our noses in the summer. We both cried when our mom put us in separate rooms because our sleepovers were out of control. We both giggled when we snuck into the other’s room late at night. I’d been the only one to defend her sobriety, but I was ashamed as I pushed her back to arm’s length to stare into her hazel eyes, just a bit browner than mine.

“Sober as a fucking judge, Izzy,” I whispered. “I knew you were, and then I questioned it.”

She wrinkled her nose and then smiled. I swear the sun shined brighter, flowers bloomed, birds chirped, and society perked up. Her hair was a bit longer than mine, her curves a bit sharper, her eyes a bit bigger. We looked the same, but she stole the attention from everyone in the world with that smile.

“I won’t apologize, Lilah.”

I sighed and shook my head. “You should.”

“Fine.” She shrugged and looked over my shoulder at Dante, winking at him before saying to me, “I’m sorry you were in jail for two whole days.”

“That was a long time for me.” I sounded appalled as my eyes darted back to Dante and then to her. “And that’s not what I mean. You could have told me or called me once in jail!” My voice broke as I said it. I rolled my lips between my teeth, trying not to let the emotions through.

“I couldn’t. You know I couldn’t.”

“You hid so much.” It was an accusation, and we all heard the pain in my voice.

She nodded. “I get that. I do. I have to live with it, and I’m sorry for that too. I won’t be sorry for doing it though. It saved me.” She said the words softly. Then she dragged in a breath, looked past me again, and said, “He saved me.”

She walked around me to get to him, but I stood there frozen.

Her voice. The hitch in it, the tone of it, the way it shook. I knew that voice. I knew it because it was my own when I whispered it softly at night … the scariest thing I’d ever felt: my love for him.

I loved Dante.

And my beautiful twin did too.

It felt like my heart had bottomed out in my stomach, like my mind swooped around and stuttered to a halt as it short-circuited over the revelation.

I placed both hands on my stomach; I took the breaths; I tried to channel that calm that Dante always seemed to find.

Still, I didn’t turn to face them as they talked. I couldn’t make out their words as my world dimmed, tilting horrendously off its axis. The tunnel was speeding toward me full force, not going toward the light but toward the dark.

Izzy.

My baby sister. Clean and free and brilliant.

I turned slowly so I wouldn’t be walloped by the image I was about to see.

Her smiling at him with that twinkle in her eye so clear and full of hope.

Him smiling back at her.

She pulled him in for a hug, and her whole body flew into his—chest to chest, hips to hips, feet to feet. I saw how she looked at him, and I knew that look because her face was the exact same as mine.

When I stared at myself in the mirror, I saw my cheeks flushed, my eyes sparkling, all the wrinkles of worry disappeared from my face. Dante brought love out of me, just the way he brought it out of Izzy.

She turned to me, and her gaze dimmed. “What’s wrong?”

I nodded and gulped twice before I stammered, “I-I just need … a minute, I think. I need a-a minute.”

“Okay.” She scanned my face in question, then her gaze darted around the room. “I got a room here for a night—301. Come down and talk to me when you’re ready. Today, though. I’m staying one night and then …” She trailed off and glanced at Dante, probably considering how much she could tell me.

I nodded quickly, my emotions welling up in my throat too fast to think of anything other than getting out of that room.

I rushed to the adjoining door and pushed through it as I heard Dante call after me.

I didn’t stop in my bedroom at all. I beelined to the shower and peeled my clothes off as I turned on the water, cranking it as hot as it would go.

Scalding off my love for him was the only way I could think of to rid myself of it. If my sister loved him, I couldn’t.

His happy ending could be here in an instant, and they would fit together like yin and yang.

To me, it all made sense.

I cried and watched my tears mix with the water drops for as long as the water was hot. I let it wash over my shoulders after it turned cold too, cooling the heat on my skin and in my soul.

I grabbed a bright-red crop top and shorts, ones I’d been so comfortable in a week ago, and winced when they reminded me somewhat of Izzy’s style. Maybe Dante had seen a new me here that wasn’t really me at all … and maybe she was what he really wanted. He could love her.

I jumped when I heard the knock at my adjoining door.

“Jesus,” I whispered, and then I was up against it immediately, ready to barricade it if I needed to. “I need to talk to her first, Dante. I can’t see you right now.”

I heard a sigh.

Then my cell pinged, and when I saw his name, my fists clenched, not sure I could take any of his words. Still, I grabbed it like it was my last bubble of oxygen down in the deep ocean.

I didn’t answer him. The fear of that was real, tangible, and what hurt most was that it was also probably best.

I went to her room shortly after. I’d heard her leave Dante’s room after listening as best I could through the thick walls. The murmurs between them told me they worked comfortably together, that they had things to talk about, that their relationship was already prepped for more. When I heard his door swing shut, I knew she’d left.

I’d known that always, but to see it on her face, to see how she looked at him now … that was the blow that I hadn’t seen coming.

Still, I walked to her room, ready to confess everything because Izzy wasn’t stupid. I’d watched how she’d absorbed what she saw in Dante’s room.

My belongings were there, scattered around like the pieces of my heart. What was left of it.

I knocked on her door twice, and she opened before I hit the third time.

She waved me in with no words. Her room was smaller than mine and bare. She plopped herself down at the tiny oak table, and I joined her.

“So?” Her hands were folded in front of her. “Seems we have a lot of catching up to do.”

I nodded and combed my hands through my hair. “Not much on my end other than working and living here, waiting for you two to tie up whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Dante said he told you just about everything. You know I’m undercover trying to bust a big drug operation. Iago should let me know when soon, then I’ll be able to get him.” Her stare was far-off for a second. “Finally. Him and his boss, Lilah. We’re fucking close. The jail—”

“Was shitty.” I stopped her because I needed her to know she wasn’t off the hook. “You used me.”

“In my defense, mom really did want to see you and us traveling together attracted less attention. I didn’t know we were going to get caught, but it was the best thing that could have happened. I made some connections in there, and now we’ll get him. They don’t suspect a damn thing. I mean, some of them did … but Dante and Cade were able to clean up a few loose ends.”

“Ends or people?” I whispered as I lifted a brow at her. It hurt that he was probably sharing all this with her and not me, that I was in love with a man who shared more of his life with my sister than he did with me.

“You realize that’s Dante’s job, right?” She chewed on her cheek before facing the issue head-on—not like she would have done in the past when she was using. She would have avoided it for weeks and weeks. “If you’re sleeping with him, you should know that, Lilah.”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now. First, you.” I pointed at her. “Mom and Dad and our brothers, Izzy. They’re all so scared for you. I was scared for you. And all this time, you embraced that lie for a job.”

“For my life, Lilah. There’s a difference.” She sat back like she couldn’t believe me not understanding. “If I can’t do this, what good am I? Don’t you get that?”

“But you were gone. Our family’s hurting. I’m hurting, trying to defend your fake lifestyle and your sobriety.”

She picked at a nonexistent chip in the table and didn’t look at me when she said, “You were always the strong one, Lilah. You were strong enough to deal with my shit even when I wasn’t. You figured out how to get over my addiction and then believed in me right when I got out of juvie. Even when I didn’t believe in myself. You were strong enough to deal with this too.”

“Strong enough?” The question bellowed out of me. The word still tasted like rancid filth in my mouth. “Strong enough? I could barely open my eyes in the morning, let alone get out of bed back in college. I wanted to die.”

That thought and the fact that my family probably wouldn’t miss me made it all the simpler for it to fester and grow. And grow it had, until it was such a weight that there was no way to move out from under it.

“You fell into drugs, and I lost a baby. A baby, Izzy.”

“A … what?” Her gaze snapped to mine. “When? What are you talking about?”

I bit my lip, and then the story flew out of me. “All cards on the table,” I murmured and shrugged at the end of it. “And I think the baby would have loved me more than anyone. More than people loved you because I truly was so scared that no one could. Mom and Dad and Dom and Dex and Declan and Dimitri … and Dante! God, all of them loved you. They couldn’t stop talking about you. And I know that’s terrible,” I choked out, tears streaming down my face now. “But, Jesus, you’d think with a twin I’d never be lonely, and yet, I felt lonelier in those moments than I could have ever fathomed. And it’s embarrassing. I was supposed to be strong enough for you. I was supposed to be able to shoulder your pain, but I couldn’t because I was going through my own.”

I took a breath, gasping for it, giving her an opening, but she didn’t say a word. She waved for me to carry on.

I did. It was like the words wouldn’t stop. “And who knew depression is like a drug, too? It eats away at your happiness, it makes you not the person you want to be, and it guilts you into thinking you can never resurface from it. God, the guilt. And the fear that I’ll fall back into it.”

“Lilah, you’re so strong.”

“So are you! You struggle with your addiction.”

She tried to deny it.

I cut her off, though. “Don’t feed me the bull. You put those opioids right in front of you to tempt fate with that job. You must have. You went into the industry where they’d be in your face daily. I get it. You want to make sure you’re strong enough to deny yourself. That’s strength, but I’m so scared of falling back into depression that I’m avoiding anything that will even make me happy.”

“Like Dante?”

“Izzy, no.” I shook my head and stood from the chair so fast it flew over.

“You love him.”

“I don’t.” I shook my head fiercely. I was scared I’d push her to the edge or that I’d fall over it too. I didn’t need her concerned that I’d fallen for the man she most likely loved.

“Are you scared I can’t handle it if you love him? If he loves you back?” she whispered, her eyes searching my face.

I threw my hands up to shield her from any emotions I might have been showing. We were twins, able to read one another even if we didn’t want the other one to see what we were feeling. I couldn’t let her see this. I didn’t even want to witness it myself.

“What will it take for this family to think I can handle something?” she asked me. “Do you think I’ll drown my heartbreak in drugs?”

“Your heart will be broken? Because you love him?” I asked even though I didn’t need her answer.

“Of course I love him.” She spat the words out like she hated the taste of them. “I’ve loved him forever. He’s always been there. We’re a team, we work well together, and he’s always believed in me the way—”

Our eyes met, and the pain she felt hit me like a freight train, hard and heavy enough to knock the wind out of me.

I whispered, “I don’t know what to do here.”

“Well”—she stood up tall and wiped a hand over her face like she was wiping away emotions—“you’d better figure it out, Lilah.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve tried my best to be straight to the point these days.”

I nodded. “I see that. You seem to face things head-on now.”

“You’ve always been the one who knew exactly what to do, right? You got the grades, you got into college. You took care of a miscarriage, for God’s sake—all on your own. You handled it all. So you’d better figure it out now. I’m going for a walk to clear my head. Figure it out, Lilah, because if you don’t love him enough to fight for him, then he deserves me … because I will.”

“I don’t know if I love him.” I shook my head repeatedly. I couldn’t feel that for him. Not after what we’d been through, not after I’d lost his baby. I couldn’t go through that again, not with him. “I shouldn’t because I won’t survive loving him.”

“You will,” she said and walked past me with tears in her eyes. “You’re strong enough.”

“I just don’t know. It’s only been a few weeks. How could I know?”

“Because I know.” My sister’s voice was pleading. With that, the door shut behind her, and she left me in her small, empty hotel room.

Silence was either an enemy or a friend. It calmed you or left you alone with the worst of your thoughts.

Dante had taught me there was never really any silence, because the world was always talking. The sounds I heard now were my tears falling one by one on that table. I had a choice. Or so I thought. Love never really gives you a choice. I thought I would have to choose between breaking my sister’s heart or my heart or maybe even Dante’s.

There wasn’t an easy answer.

There was no right answer.

And I always searched for the right one.

I’d only ever known how to do the right thing.

When the knock at the door came, I found myself wanting to be anyone else at that point. I wanted to save everyone and not ruin one more thing.