Page 57 of Undying Resilience
I down the rest of my coffee. Then I smile. “I can’t wait to watch you die.”
“Fuck you,” he spits out.
The longer I stay in here, the harder it’s getting to resist the need to strangle him. Wren deserves to have that satisfaction. So I don’t bother replying, leaving him alone again and locking the door.
In the kitchen, I make more coffee and pour it into four mugs. I load them all onto a tray and carry them upstairs.
Opening the door to my bedroom is tricky, but I manage it without spilling any coffee. I set the tray on my dresser just as Wren comes out of the bathroom.
She stops when she sees me. “Ell.”
I love that she’s calling me that.
Without hesitation, she runs to me, circling her arms around my waist and pressing her face into my chest. She inhales deeply before letting out a satisfied noise.
“Morning, love.” I kiss the top of her head, smiling into her hair.
Wren’s always been so openly affectionate toward us. Not only is it endearing, but it’s also a relief. New relationships can be awkward, especially when you’re still trying to figure out where you stand with each other. But she’s rarely backed down from showing us she cares—or from asking for what she needs.
Never be afraid to take, love. Because we’ll always give you more.
“You brought us coffee?” she says once she notices the tray on the dresser.
“Yeah. You can have one of the ones with cream.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I wouldn’t want one of the others.”
Chuckling, I say, “You and Oliver both.”
She takes a long sip of her coffee before turning back to the bed. Her expression softens when her gaze lands on Rhett and Oliver. They’re both wrapped up in each other, a mess of arms and legs and unresolved pain.
“They found each other almost immediately after I got out of bed,” she says, twining her fingers with mine.
“I’m not surprised.”
She glances at me, a hesitant concern shining in her eyes. “They’ll be okay, right?”
I squeeze her hand. “Yeah. We never let our arguments fester for long. It’s too miserable. Rhett just needs a little more time, and then they’ll be fine.”
Our conversation must be too loud, because Rhett groans. His arms tighten around Oliver before he opens his eyes. When he sees who he’s holding, his body goes rigid. But then he sighs, pressing his face into Oliver’s neck. Oliver stirs, and after another second, Rhett releases him and crawls out of bed.
When Rhett spots us, I already have his coffee in my hands. He takes it groggily, his fingers lingering against mine. Then he touches Wren’s shoulder in what’s probably supposed to be a soft caress but ends up being closer to a clumsy pat.
She giggles. “Drink your coffee. You need it.”
He mumbles something entirely unintelligible, downing half his mug in one go. Grimacing, he rubs his throat. “Hot.”
Wren grabs Oliver’s mug and brings it to the bed, lowering herself onto the edge of the mattress. “Good morning, handsome.”
He gives her a sleepy grin, although I don’t miss the extra second it takes for him to find it. “Hi, princess.”
Rhett kisses my temple. “I’ll meet you guys downstairs for breakfast.” Then he leaves, probably heading to his room to get ready for the day.
Oliver slurps his coffee loudly, making Wren smile. The sight warms my heart. Her smiles and laughs may not be as exorbitant, but that’s to be expected. As we’re able to put more distance and time in between the events of this weekend, hopefully that’ll change.
It’s sweet to see Oliver trying to make her laugh. I know yesterday took its toll on him, too. And until he and Rhett resolve their issues, he won’t be able to get back to being his normal self. But that shouldn’t take more than a day or two.
Downstairs, I whip up a quick breakfast of cheesy omelettes and more coffee. Everyone makes quiet conversation, mostly asking the usual, “How did you sleep?”