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And all I could think about was the phone call I planned to make later that would take another.

A fresh wave of self-hatred rolled through me, mixing with the pain. Life. Hope. Fear. Death. Grief. Everything tangled together until I couldn’t separate one feeling from the next. Tears gathered in my eyes, blurring my vision.

Across the table, Sebastian stared down at his plate. Not even bothering with it. Just staring. He looked utterly alone. The appointment I needed to make, Pasha, and everything I was struggling with, evaporated.

All I saw was my brother. And how much he was hurting.

A knife of emotion wedged itself under my ribs, twisting with each breath. I couldn’t stay seated any longer. And more importantly, a powerful urge for connection—to be held—overwhelmed me.

Damn emotions.

I stood hastily, the legs of my chair scraped loudly against the floor. Pasha looked up, a completely different level of hurt in his eyes. Ignoring everyone’s questioning gazes, I walked over to my brother. He sat with a hollow darkness filtering across his handsome face.

Without a word, I stood beside him. He looked up, puzzled. I took his hand and pulled him out of the chair. I wrapped my arms around him and held him in a tight hug, letting my own tears fall. He stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed into my embrace.

He didn’t have to walk this alone, not today.

We stood there for a few moments, connected yet not entirely. He must have felt my need because, as I laid my head against his stomach, he leaned into me and kissed the top of my head. That one move undid me, and I started sobbing uncontrollably.

“I love you so much,” I whispered.

“Love you, too. I’ll be fine, Sissy. I promise. I just need to get through the day.”

Alek mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

Reluctantly, I pulled away and turned to see the rest of the family staring at us. Everyone except Pasha. My gaze found his chair. It was now empty. Sometime during the embrace, he’d quietly left the room, taking the remaining pieces of my heart with him.

My stomach twisted. Pasha was alone, too. There wasn’t anyone to comfort him. And I’d been the one to break him. There wasn’t a hug big enough to fix it.

“Kinsley, we should probably head in.”

“Yeah.” She looked hesitant to leave, but I knew she had classes to teach today.

Mondays were always a big day for her and Pasha.

“Go on, little love. I’ll be fine,” Ivan offered with a soft kiss on her cheek.

“If you’re sure?”

“I am. Go on, Pasha is probably in the car already waiting for you two.”

Kinsley and I walked in silence toward the garage. I tried to shake off everything and act normally.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“I shouldn’t have pulled an all-nighter in the studio. But once I got started, I couldn’t stop until I finished. You know how it is.”

When we reached the garage, my steps faltered. The Bentley wasn’t there and Marcus was waiting for us. For months, the morning routine had been the same. The three of us rode in together.

Sometimes with Kinsley bouncing between a dozen different conversations before we’d even left. But always with a playlist that the two of them would fight over.

The empty space felt wrong. Like a missing tooth, my tongue couldn’t stop finding. With one look at Marcus, I understood. Pasha had driven himself.

“Marcus, where is the Bentley?” Kinsley asked.

“Pasha wanted to drive in alone today,” he remarked, opening the door for us.

“Why?” She put her hands on her hips and huffed. “That’s not how we do things? We always ride in together.”