I plod to the door and go to walk in without hesitation. Jake, close on my heels, tugs me back by my ponytail, so he can jump in front of me with a chuckle, and meets another rain of light slaps on his arm as I try to muscle him out of the way. We have carried on this way ever since I got used to the force that is Jacob Carrero, and months away have changed nothing. He is still a massive annoying douchebag that reminds me of every one of my four adopted big brothers, only more irritating and less mature than any one of them at any given time.“Bambinos, I’m home.” Jake yells out and muscles me under his arm to squeeze my face into his armpit and ribcage so that I am almost suffocating on whatever body spray he uses and fight him with little effect. He drags me through the marble hallway as the small squeals of young children flood this way; small feet and excited fa

I slump back, mirroring Emma’s casual pose as the small happy laughter and squeals echo gently from outside with Jake’s voice intermingled and drift our way. Emma leans back for a second to peek outside, a warmth hitting her face and lighting up her eyes before she returns to focus on me.“Well?” Emma reminds me. I was sitting watching her, my head lost somewhere between her ten thousand questions and just sheer fatigue.“I’ve been better! Life sucked here and yet still sucked in New York, so go figure. I’ve felt better, and Arrick pretty much made me come home, so I guess I didn’t really choose it.” I shrug and swipe my mug to take a mouthful of the strong coffee, Italian roast or something Jake, ‘the coffee connoisseur’, has obviously filled it with. I blanch at how strong

The past twenty-four hours just prove that he is still the only thing that can make this ache subside … Because this ache is for him and him alone. Arrick devastated my life when he walked away, just like he devastated my heart last night by leaving my room.I break down in tears as logic overrides naivety.“I can’t be … He’s in love with Natasha … He’s taken … He’s not in love with me. This isn’t true or…” I wail brokenly, something inside of me snapping into place and realizing that Emma is onto something after all. Emma has hit the nail on the head, and I was too stupid to ever see it.All I can think of is the years of memories with him, the trust and bond between us. The happy times and shared moments; the b

I quietly walk into my family home late in the evening, sliding in unseen and head for the stairs in the hopes of getting to my room before anyone knows I’m back. I’m exhausted, mentally, and physically, and just need to go lie down and get my head together. I’m a mess, fragile, completely drained and generally just spent. I came away with so much in my head that I think my mind has shut down and gone into reboot mode in a bid to protect me from having a mental breakdown.I wept in Emma’s arms for what seemed like an eternity, before we moved to the cozy snug by the playroom, for more privacy. We talked for hours just going around and around in circles. Emma really did hit a home run with accuracy. The more we talked it out and I came to terms with it, the more I could see she was right. This was always about him!I’ve been living like a crazy heartbroken maniac for months. Flitting from meaningless man to man, unbroken over being cheated

I am a little more alert than yesterday now anyway. Sleep has helped, so has being roughed up and I don’t feel so distraught today. In fact, I feel like yesterday was just one massive dream and the effects are yet to catch up. I trip on my slipper as I maneuver the bright room, table already laid for breakfast, and my mother sat in a robe, bleary-eyed and chipper is gazing at us fondly. Leila has obviously ripped us both out of bed, seeing as it is barely seven a.m.“She threw me on the floor and threatened to break my nose.” I immediately point out as she sits at one end of the table, grabbing a croissant and jam as she does so. I know my dad is probably already up and showering for work and we won’t be seeing him anytime soon. He takes breakfast with him on the commute to his offices, about a thirty-minute drive away. Not that he needs to work, his company runs itself, and we are hardly poor.“Leila … Don’t be harsh on your