Page 108 of Ex Somnis

It takes a few seconds, but then his eyes finally find mine.

“S-she was right,” he repeats.

“Who was right?”

“My mom, she told me,” he says around broken breaths. “She told me I’d die young in my sleep.”

What the fuck?

Another sob tears through him. “She said that I was destined to die young and…”

My grip on his jaw tightens. “Listen to me, Nevan. I will not let that happen.”

His eyes widen at my tone.

“I have you now, okay?” I say, softening my words. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

His eyes search mine, as if he desperately wants to believe me, but he’s measuring it against what the world has taught him.

But then he chooses to accept my truth despite it.

Suddenly, I understand why Lennon loves him. Because beneath all his kindness, patience, and sunshine, there is a frightened kid who carried fear by himself for years because nobody taught him he didn’t have to.

“For a very long time, nobody had your back, and I am sorry for that.” My throat tightens, but I hold his gaze. “That is over now. It’s over.”

There’s a loud bang from downstairs, as if Ridge threw or hit something. “Paul!” Ridge yells. “Fucking dammit, someone tell me what’s happening. Is he…”

“He’s all right,” I call down. “Give us a minute!”

“Jesus, about time,” he yells back, barely any softer. “I’ll just wait here, then. Since someone apparently could not be bothered to install the stairlift I was promised.”

I nearly snort, but sober up when I turn back to Nevan, who’s still trembling and wide-eyed.

“See? We’ve got you now,” I say. “Both of us. Thanks to Lennon, Ridge and I are a package deal again.”

“Why?” he asks, then takes a shaky breath, his face crumpling. “Why would you… why would you do that?”

The answer feels obvious, which is strange. A month ago, I barely knew him. A month ago, I hadn’t talked to Ridge in years, and my biggest concern was whether my nightmares were finally going to drive me mad. Now, Ridge is yelling obscenities because he thought Nevan might be in danger. I probably have a shoulder injury because I threw myself through a window after the Shaw boy, and the love of my life is asleep downstairs.

Lennon.

She’s why.

Because she somehow collected all of us like injured birds and deposited us in the same nest.

I keep thinking about soulmates, about fate, about Lennon, and the impossible certainty of looking at someone and knowing. But perhaps she wasn’t the only thing fate was trying to give me. Perhaps it was this.

The foul-mouthed, disagreeable writer downstairs.

The giant, weeping man in front of me.

The soft-hearted woman asleep in the room below, trying desperately to get back to us.

A family I never intended to have but would now quite happily fight the universe to keep.

“Because Lennon chose you,” I say, holding his gaze. “And I have learned, fairly recently, that her judgment is extraordinary. Also…” I glance toward the staircase, listening as Ridge continues to loudly protest my mistreatment of him,“… you appear to be stuck with us now. I’d make your peace with it.”

Nevan looks at me for a long moment, and then he falls to pieces again.