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His eyes shine. “She really did.”

“Still, you don’t have to stop loving her. I don’t think you could even if you tried. But loving her doesn’t mean pretending this is acceptable or leaving the door open so she can come back and do it again.”

His shoulders sag with the weight of the truth. “I don’t know how to be done with people I love. It was easier with our mother. She’d been absent for as long as I can remember,” he says, so quietly I almost miss the words.

The confession is so painfully honest that I have to blink back another sting of tears. “You don’t have to decide all of that tonight,” I tell him. “Tonight you just have to keep breathing, hold the baby, and let me help.”

Carefully, he leans forward until his forehead rests against mine. The touch is feather-light and familiar. “Stay?” he whispers.

There’s so much packed into that one word that my chest nearly caves in around it. Stay tonight and through the mess. Stay while my family falls apart and I have no idea who I’ll be on the other side. Stay even though I hurt you. Stay because I don’t know how to carry this pain alone.

“Always,” I whisper back. “Because I can’t imagine my life without you.”

His breath catches. I slide my arms around him again, and this time he comes without hesitation, bringing Tilly with him so the three of us fold into each other on the rug in the middle of the stripped-down living room. There’s not much we can fix right now. Livia is still gone and she emptied half the apartment. But we’re safe and choosing each other in the midst of the ugly and fighting for what’s still here.

32

OLLIE

The police arrive forty-seven minutes after I call; I checked the clock every few minutes while we waited. Time stretches strangely when you're sitting in the aftermath of something unexpected. Some minutes drag like they're stuck in mud while others disappear completely.

Now two male officers stand in the middle of the living room while Peyton sits beside me on the couch with Tilly tucked against her. Chase is perched on the armchair across from us, elbows on his knees, one leg bouncing restlessly. He hasn't said much since Jax brought him back upstairs, but every so often his gaze flicks toward the nursery and then to Tilly, guilt written all over his face.

Officer Smith is broad-shouldered with graying hair and tired eyes that look like they've seen too many nights like this one. Officer Reyes stands a few feet away, his pen moving across the page of a small black notebook.

“You said your sister's name is Livia Braxton?” Officer Smith asks.

“Yes,” I answer, forcing the letters through my suddenly dry throat. “L-I-V-I-A.”

Officer Reyes writes it down. “And you live here, Mr. Braxton?”

I don't even have energy to tell him to call me Ollie. Mr. Braxton will do for now. There are bigger things to worry about than a name.

“Yes, I live here with my niece Tilly and Miss Russell Sinclair who’s been Tilly’s nanny until recently,” I reply.

“Until recently?” he repeats in question.

“She’s my partner now.”

“I see. And Livia was staying here temporarily with you?”

I glance toward Peyton. She keeps her attention on Tilly, one hand moving over the baby's back. But I can feel the support in her presence beside me. “Yeah, until we came up with a better solution,” I say.

“And who else was here today?” Officer Smith asks, looking toward Chase.

Chase's face tightens. “Me, Chase Braxton, the younger brother of Ollie and Livia. I was here most of the day before going out for about an hour to see a friend.”

Officer Reyes glances up. “And during that hour, your sister was alone with the baby?”

Chase swallows hard, his leg finally stilling and he nods. The pen scratches across the paper again. I focus on Tilly who’s asleep against Peyton's shoulder, the steady rise and fall of her breathing anchoring me.

Officer Smith follows my gaze and studies the baby before returning his attention to my brother. “When you got back to the apartment, what was waiting for you?”

“She was gone. Livia, I mean. Tilly was in the crib screaming. Her diaper was soaked through and she was all alone.”

The room falls silent and Officer Reyes stops writing. “For how long?” he asks.

“I don't know,” Chase replies, his voice breaking. “I got back and heard Tilly crying before I even made it all the way inside.”