Never Stop

8. Ander

Chapter eight

Ander

" D o you want to go see them?"

I ask softly, wanting the option to be hers and hers alone as I continue to pull her into me, not wanting to let her go. I don't care that we're on a hospital waiting room floor.

She's falling to pieces, and I have no idea how to fix this. I know I can't fix this one for her, and it's breaking me apart along with her.

Have you ever loved someone so much that you would tear yourself apart to hand them the broken pieces of yourself to help repair what's broken in them in an attempt to make them whole again? That's how I feel right now. Helpless that I can't help her . I'm hurt that she's hurting, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. I can't make it stop, no matter how hard I try.

Her sobs have died down. I know this is the part that will hurt her and me both the most. I've known her for most of my life, so unfortunately, I already know what will come next.

This will be the part where she shoves all her emotions down, puts on a brave face, pushes forward, and pretends to be stronger than she needs to be while trying to find ways to "fix" the situation. I've seen her do it far too many times with the shit she's dealt with concerning Liam. I can't let her do it right now.

It's a recipe for disaster.

"You're allowed to feel. Let yourself feel, even though it hurts. Please don't shut down, baby." I say, sounding as frantic as I feel as I run my hands through her hair. Just like I predicted, not a second later, her head lifts, and she's standing to her feet, wiping the tears away. Her breaths are deep as she tries to bury her emotions away with all the others she's had to hide over the years. She pulls out of my grasp, and she's focused on Liam as he walks away down the hall toward the exit, as if he has no cares in the world.

"Rosie," I whisper as my voice catches. I'm trying to hold myself together for her right now. She needs me strong. She needs a safe place to land. Someone she knows she can lean on. Someone she can come to and not have to be strong.

I try to pull her back to me. I want to embrace her. I want to hold her, but she isn't having it. A part of my heart breaks, even though I try like hell not to let it. I know she's hurting, and she doesn't know how to cope right now. Liam is almost to the exit as he turns around and flashes her a grin. A fucking grin . That motherfucker.

"Fuck you, Liam! You slimy piece of shit!" I scream after him as I storm towards him, more than ready to tear him apart with my bare hands.

I can hear Jett's exasperated huffs behind me, and I know he's with me on this. I don't need his help, but knowing my brother has my back if I need him and I'm not overreacting is reassuring.

Liam is still standing at the end of the hall, looking the least bit threatened. Like he knows something we don't. I can't wait to beat that fucking smirk right off his stupid ass face.

I make it a little over halfway towards him when I finally hear her voice. It's closer than I expected it to be. The next thing I knew, she was in front of me, panting and out of breath. She places her hands on my chest to stop me.

So I do.

I let out a grunt. I want to tell her she needs to let me handle this for her, for once. I want to prove to her that I am in her corner.

She is mine, and I will not continue to stand by and let this fucker destroy her. No one messes with her and gets away with it. Especially not Liam.

Before I can say anything, her eyes close as she lets out an exhausted sigh.

"Leave," her voice is low, barely audible, but the one word she mutters singes through my veins, coursing its way right to my heart and breaking another piece of it.

I don't respond.

I place my hand over hers, which is still on my chest. Or, I attempt to. She pulls her hand back.

Her voice is louder now, firmer even when she says, "Ander, you need to go."

"Rosie," I shake my head, trying to calm myself and remind myself that she's hurting. She doesn't need me going all fucking caveman in the hospital on her brother. She needs comfort and someone to help her process everything that's happening.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose it. I just—"

"Go home, Ander!" She all but yells at me this time.

Before I can react, she steps back, crosses her arms over her chest, and looks at Izzy. "Can you take me home?" she walks right past me.

Izzy looks dumbfounded and not sure how to respond. Her eyes flash back and forth between my breaking heart and Via's shattered one, but this isn't about me.

"Here," I say, tossing the keys to my truck to Izzy. We all rode here together, so they had no ride other than me. If I can't be the one to help Via right now, I damn sure won't be the one to pressure her and make it worst, either. Via keeps walking away from us, not looking back.

"Are you sure? How will you all get home?"

"Yes, just please take care of her."

I told myself I wouldn't fucking cry. I don't cry, but apparently, I do. Because as my heart breaks for the woman that gives it a reason to beat, the only thing I can do is cry for her.

Izzy pulls me into an awkward hug. Her face says more than her mouth does. I don't need her pity. I need her to take care of my girl.

"Izzy, just don't let her shut down for long. Tell her I love her and I'm here when she's ready—I'm always here. We will find a ride to your house to get my truck and then go to the island to get your car. I'll give her some time, but I'll check in on her when we get back into town. I don't want to force her."

Izzy sighs and forces an apologetic, sympathetic smile my way, then turns and chases after Via. Jett smacks his hand across my shoulder and gives me a side hug.

"She'll come around, brother; she always does. You know that asshole fucks with her head."

I nod.

The first few days without a word from her were like a knife to the gut. One that not only stabbed me but also twisted and turned, wreaking havoc in the path of its destruction.

My heart breaks for her, and I'm fucking angry. If there's anyone in this world who doesn't need more pain added to the already devastatingly long list of reasons to lose hope, it's her. I know. She will blame herself for this one, and she shouldn't. She has every right to hate me. The thing is, I don't blame her one bit. This one is on me.

Had I not forced her out of the house that night and taken her down to the island, even though she was hesitant, none of this would have happened. Liam would have spewed his venom. Everyone would have been distraught for a few hours before that infuriatingly positive woman of mine, with her soul-piercing eyes, got them all to see the bright side of their negative, which is Liam. Everyone would have been safe in that home. There would have been no one to go out looking for, so there would have been no accident.

We've always faced our hard times together. We've been each other's safe place, leaning on the other when the weight of reality gets too heavy to carry alone. We've shared secrets and held each other's truths locked tight. When the darkness would threaten to succumb to either of us, turning to the other was the solution, and we would always walk through it together.

Never alone.

It's another one of the promises we made to each other. Some people may think it's a lot of pressure to put on one another. Too heavy. The truth is, what's too heavy is going through life without having someone to unload all your worst days on. Not the notion of only feeling alone but actually being alone in your struggles. I never want her to feel or be either of those.

I've tried calling and texting too many times to count, all of which have gone unanswered. I know I need to back off and give her time, but this is so unlike her. Her face when she looked at me at that hospital after she stopped me from destroying her brother is etched in my mind, and I can't shake it.

I've never seen her so broken, and it's tearing me down that I caused this for her. The worst part is she won't even let me be there for her through it.

Ander: Hey baby, I'm just checking in with you again.

Ander: I'm here for you. I'm always here. I'll be here whenever you're ready.

Ander: I'm so worried about you. Please just say something.

Ander: Please let me be here for you.

Ander: I miss you.

Ander: Rosie, please. I love you.

After all the texts I sent, I decided that sending one more plea wouldn't hurt.

"Fuck!" I scream and pass a fist through my bedroom drywall, loosening the cap on all the frustration I've been bottling up inside. That one blow does the opposite of what it was supposed to and only creates more frustration. I let out another loud groan under my breath as I stared at the hole I'd just made. My parents are going to kill me.

Staring intently, I place my fingers through the opening in the drywall and can't help but relate to it. Everything around this hole, on this wall, is neat, in place as it should be, and well put together. Yet, behind the wall, behind the hole, is a void. Displaced and empty. It's a lot like I'm feeling right now.

I scoff at myself; I can't believe I'm comparing myself to a damn hole I've just punched through my wall.

"Bro, you good?" Jett's voice is low. He looks confused and worried as he walks into my room and looks me and my stupid hole over.

I look back at him and debate my options. I sit on my bed and lean my elbows on my knees. I sink my head into my hands and close my eyes shut to keep the tears in that threaten to fall.

He clears his throat and then makes his way over to me. Sitting beside me, he wraps his arm around my back, patting it hard. We are a lot alike in this sense. Neither of us knows how to react when we see each other falling apart. We are so used to our emotional displays of affection strictly roasting each other that when that isn't appropriate, we aren't sure how to approach the situation.

Deciding to spare him the agony, I say, "I'm good". I'm unsure if I sound convincing, but my guess is not a bit.

"The hell you are," he shoves me, "fucking talk to me."

I shake my head as I lift my head from my hands. "There's nothing to say. She hates me. She won't talk to me. I've tried and got not a single thing back."

He sighs. We sit there in silence for a while. Before I know it, he's on his phone, and I can hear the ringing.

"Jett, what the hell are you doing?" I demand. I know he means well, but I don't need my brother fighting my battles for me.

He shakes his head and pushes my hand away before he speaks, "Izzy,"

Izzy. He called Izzy, not Via. Why the hell didn't I think of that? The giant ass hat isn't as dumb as he looks, after all.

"Hey, how is she?" Jett asks Izzy, keeping his voice low.

"Put it on speaker, please," I beg, whispering in his ear.

As he does, I can instantly hear that Izzy is whispering. She probably doesn't want Via to listen to her.

"She's trying. She's tough, but she's trying to be too tough. At first, I thought it just hadn't hit her yet, that she was in shock or something. I never handled something like this, so I'm not sure how you're supposed to deal with this, but she's just not right. She stays locked up in her room most of the time, but when she's forced to socialize, it's like she's not even in there. I don't know how to explain it.

"I went to her parent's house yesterday to start clearing things out and grabbing things I knew she would want before Liam could get his hands on them. She refused to come with me. Then, she wanted nothing to do with the stuff I brought back. She wouldn't even look at any of it. Honestly, I'm really worried."

The pain lurches at my chest and a lump forms in my throat. I hate that she's hurting, and she won't let me be there to comfort her through this. We always get through everything together. I can't fix this for her, but I sure as hell could love her through it.

"She's shut down, Izzy. She's forcing herself to be numb to keep from hurting. This is how she handled her pain when we were kids." I say, holding back my sadness that is turning into frustration by the second.

There's a long pause after she hears me speak.

"Ander," Her voice is low, and there's dread in her tone.

"Let me talk to her,"

"I.. Can't."

"What do you mean 'you can't?" I growl into the receiver, and Jett places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, signaling me to calm down. I've been known to have a short-fused temper, but I try to keep it controlled for the most part. Jett can see me losing that control; I can tell by the look on his face.

"She doesn't want to talk to you," she says, laced with sadness and regret.

Ouch.

"Izzy," I growl out her name, trying to calm my growing frustration. "I've given her space. All the space she's asked for. Now, we need to talk." I take a deep breath. "She needs me, Iz. You know that better than anyone. Hell, I need her just as much. I need to be there for her. I need to, Izzy. I'm desperate here. Please."

Silence. Izzy says nothing. She's quiet for way too long, and then, finally, she lets out a sigh.

"I'll try. First, Ander—"

"Yeah?"

"I can't make any promises."

"Okay."

There's another long pause, and we hear muffled noises as if Izzy has her hand over the receiver. Jett and I can hear them talking but can't determine what they're saying. Then, after about three minutes of waiting and trying to decipher, the line goes quiet.

Radio Silence. I question if they've hung up, but the phone is still connected. It's still wholly silent—until I hear someone let out a breath. I feel like, no, I know. I know it's hers .

"Baby,"

She doesn't speak; she lets out another long audible exhale tangled with a sigh.

I take a breath, knowing that this is my chance to talk to her, and I need to choose my words carefully to make sure I don't screw this up. This takes me a little longer than I'd hoped, so the line is quiet for a second, but like she always has, she waits for me to collect my thoughts before speaking.

I think of everything I want to say and want her to know. I want to plead my case, tell her how incredibly sorry I am that this happened and that I unintentionally caused all of this, and tell her how much I love her. I think about begging her not to give up on me, on us. There's so much going through my mind, and I can't form any of it into words.

"No words that I say will take your pain away, at least not like I want to." I sighed in defeat, "Just know that I love you beyond words definition, and I'll be here waiting when you're ready to talk."

I hear her crying on the other end as she soaks in my words.

"Don't cry, babe, please. God damn it, I wish I could be there with you. I wish you would let me be here for you."

She sniffles, and the crying stops as the line goes quiet again. I can hear that the receiver is again covered as the voices get muffled.

"Hey, it's Izzy."

"Yeah, Iz, I can hear that. Where'd she go?"

"She heard you. She said she loves you too; I think she needs time, Ander."

"I wish she would tell me that herself. This isn't us. This isn't how we do shit. She can talk to me. Doesn't she know that by now? This is tearing me apart, Izzy. Why won't she talk to me? Does she hate me!?"

I need to hear her voice, see, touch, and hold her. Yet, she won't even allow me to hear her voice, much less anything else. At this point, I'm in my right mind to drive over there and let her be as mad as she wants, but that would be selfish, and it's not about me. I need to respect her, especially right now, but not being there for her through this is killing me.

I can hear Izzy's patience with me wear thin. I fully expect the verbal lashing that she's brewing in that head of hers to spew out any moment now.

Instead, she sighs and says, "Ander, I don't know how to say this, but she doesn't want to hear from you anymore. She asked that you let her go. She wants you to be happy. She said you deserve to find happiness, and that can't be with her. She's going to regret it, Ander. I know she will, but she's falling apart and doesn't want to bring you down with her."

" And, uh, she asked that you—"

"That I what, Izzy, That I fucking what?" I seethe out through the tight pain in my chest and the tears that won't stop flowing. I tried keeping my cool, but all the sadness had officially become a hot rage I could no longer control.

"That you don't come to the funeral. She thinks it's best this way."

Jett squeezes my shoulder again, and I shrug him off, pushing him back down to the bed as I jump to my feet and start pacing the room. I can feel my self-control to hold it together, slipping right along with her.

She's slipping through my fingers.

I know it, and I don't know how to stop it. I hold my tongue back from saying useless things that I don't mean. I want to scream at her for trying to push me away and discard me like this. I'm not letting it happen, but she doesn't need to be pushed anymore right now.

"This is insane," I growl under my breath. "Just. . . Just tell her that I love her and that I'll never stop. Okay, Izzy, remind her never to stop. Please?"

Izzy sniffs on the phone, and she's quick to respond, "Okay, I will. I promise."

She hung up, and just like that, I knew my world would forever be changed. My actions inadvertently caused her to be hurt beyond repair.

I lost her. I fucking lost her, but I can't give up. Not this easily.