The memory of that night with Austin replayed in her mind.

It had started quietly.

"You could sit down," Milly said as she allowed him in.

A part of her watched him closely for any sign of judgment.

Austin nodded, biting his lip before sitting at the edge of the couch. He was still, almost like he fear any movement would break.....

This.

His fingers picked at the hem of his shirt, a telltale sign he was nervous to speak.
"Milly, I know you're tired of hearing this, but...I am sorry for telling—"

Not again.

She let out a quiet groan, her head tipping back.
"Austin, stop."

But he didn't. He leaned forward, elbows to knees, voice steadier than usual. "Wait. Let me finish."

Something about his tone made her freeze.

"I know Mom would've found out eventually," he started, eyes fixed on the floor, "but I didn't need to give her that version. I made it sound like...you were with everyone. I let her believe it. That wasn't fair."

His leg bounced, rhythm small but constant. She noticed.

"I shouldn't have said all that stuff. It was just easier to let her think the worst."

He rubbed the back of his neck hard, like it ached. "She was always asking about you. Always. 'Where's your sister?' 'Did she eat?' 'Is she home yet?' Like I didn't even exist unless you were in the room."

She knew it was true.
She just never thought he felt this way.

"I know it was dumb. Jealousy or whatever. But every time I did something right—like at my basketball games—it didn't matter if you weren't there. If you didn't show up, neither did they. It was like...I didn't count unless you were there."

Milly's fingers twirled on her loose curl that had fallen.

He stole a glance at her, but it was quick.
"I thought if I made you look like a screw-up, maybe they'd finally look at me. See me. But it didn't work. It just hurt everyone. You. Mom. Dad. Me."

His eyes began to water, but he wiped it before any tears slipped out.

He looked exhausted. Not the kind of tired you could sleep off—but the kind that lived deep in your chest.

"I want everything to go back to normal. I want you to come home," Austin said, voice raw, "but I watch you at work, and it's like...you're doing it. You're actually doing it."

Milly's throat burned.

"You walk to work every day, with your back hurting and your feet probably killing you. You're tired. You're pregnant. And you still show up."

She glanced to the kitchen. Where piles of bills were sprawled on the counter and the almost empty fridge stood.

Austin gave a weak laugh.
"I get rides, I whine when I sweat too much, and you...you just do it. You're surviving. And for once, I realized maybe it's not you who needs saving."

He looked up again, his eyes red, but a smile on his lips.
"And when you punched Jeremiah and Olivia? You didn't wait for someone to defend you. You did it yourself."

Milly exhaled through her nose, jaw tight.

"I tried fighting him too," he continued, "and I got beat up. And even then, they didn't care about me. They made my suspension and bruised face about you."

His shoulders slumped.

"So yeah. I regret what I caused. And I know Mom acts like she turned her back on you, but you're still her Milly. She and Dad think about picking you up all the time, coming here to beg for you to return—but something always stops them."

His voice trembled.

"You're her baby. She gave you her name. Camilla Denise. Denise Camilla. It's the same name, just flipped. You two always had something...I didn't."

He swallowed thickly.
"I'm just...Austin."

Milly didn't speak. Her eyes stung, her throat hot.
So instead, she leaned in and wrapped her arms around him.

Tight.

Austin tensed—then broke. The tears came quiet, but they came. And Milly let hers fall too.

She didn't know how to hold all of it at once.

The guilt.
The apology.

The fact that—for once—he wasn't hiding behind his image.He was coming as her little brother for comfort.

So she offered what she could: a hug that said she still loved him.

That memory tugged at her chest now as she rubbed her hand gently over her bump. Her thumb traced the curve, soft and slow. A small kick answered.

A weak smile lifted her lips.

She wasn't alone. Not really.

She had Austin.
Sage.
Bryan.
Her daughter.

She had a messy little family—taped together at the seams, but hers.

Milly focused on the store just as the bell over the door jingled.

Her smile faltered.

Bryan walked in, his face bruised, both eyes blackened and swollen. A dark purple marks filled his cheeks, dried blood around his nose, and he moved with a limp.

Milly rushed to him, heart pounding.
"What happened?"

He still tried to smirk like nothing was wrong and raised his hand. "Please. Don't make a big deal about this. It's just a side effect of bumping into my brothers," he said, though the words sounded forced.

But Milly knew better.
It was something.

She stepped closer and frowned.
"Bryan, did they do this to you?"

Bryan shrugged, his smile almost too casual.
"I got a few hits in before they knocked me out. Nothing too serious." His voice was soft, but the tightness around his eyes was heavy.

It was serious.

But before she could speak, Bryan turned and walked toward the back room.

"I'm gonna take a nap in the back," he dryly stated.

It was unusual for him to just hide out, especially when he just arrived. Making Milly's worry deepened.

She followed him, pushing through the door to the back room. She stepped into the dimly lit space.

There, sitting against the wall, was Bryan. His head was in his hands, and from the way his shoulders shook.....

It wasn't only physical pain.

He was emotionally broken—and the mask he'd been wearing all this time had finally cracked.

She watched him with no noise from her.

Should she do something?

He wasn't one to enjoy someone pity, and he would hate her seeing him like this.

But what would she want if the roles were reversed?

Before the thought could be answered, her feet moved on their own. Milly knelt beside him and wrapped her arms around him. He tensed, but she held him tightly. And it was as if he knew he got permission.

Then his body collapsed, and he sobbed quietly but uncontrollably.

"I don't know why I thought I could attending my grandma's funeral. And dumb enough to think no one would care." Bryan whispered, his voice strained. "I wanted to say goodbye to her. But their hatred couldn't even simmer—not even for a day."

Milly hated that his family judged him for being bisexual. It was his truth, and it wasn't hurting anyone. But she knew Bryan would hate sympathy the same way she despised it. She squeezed him tighter.

"I get it," she said softly, her voice steady, thinking back to the customers cruel words during her shifts.

Bryan slowly lifted his head. His red-shot eyes stared at her. "I know you do. But it's still not right to put this on you," he said, his voice low.

He swallowed hard, and his jaw tightened.
"You actually got real problem, and I'm over here crying 'cause I got a fucked-up family." He let out a short, humorless laugh, wiping at his eyes with a cloth from his pocket.

"It's nothing new."

Milly's heart ached, but she had to say it. "No... my problems aren't bigger than yours...."Her voice trembled, barely above a whisper as her voice slipped. 'What they did to you—it wasn't okay.'"

He glanced toward the door, then back at her, lingering. "You should go back before Sage notice—"

"Milly, where did you go—" Sage's voice started to erupt.

She stepped into the back room, her expression dropping instantly. "Bryan, did they do this to you?"

He gave a small shrug, shifting his weight, and a goofy grin,"I got a few hits in and if it was one on one your boy would have won."he tried stand up but remain down as he grimace.

But the determination in Sage's eyes didn't waver.

She rushed to the ice machine, yanked open the cover, and scooped ice into a plastic bag.

Bryan tried to protest. "Sage, I'm—"

"Sit," she ordered, grabbing hand towels and wrapping it around the bag before pressing it gently to his cheek.

Bryan winced. But he didn't fight her.

Sage crouched in front of him, knees pressing into the cold tile. One hand steadied the melting ice pack against his cheek; the other gently lifted the hem of his shirt.

Milly's breath caught the moment the bruise came into view.

A massive blotch darkened his rich brown skin. It was deep purple and blue, harshly tearing his side. Blood beaded along a split near his ribs, sliding down slow, staining his waistband.

Milly hadn't expected it to be this bad. Her stomach twisted, and her fingers twitched uselessly at her sides.

Bryan wasn't okay.
He was still wearing a mask with her, earlier.

Her eyes darted to Sage, who didn't flinch or react. Sage's eyes just scanned the injury, her expression sharpened by focus.

She was just steady, with practiced calm.

This wasn't her first time seeing this.

"Milly, can you get me some more ice and the first aid kit?" Sage asked.

Her voice was firm but not harsh. Her eyes flicked to a corner, and Milly followed the glance. The kit was half-buried under a pile of old towels and dusty supplies.

Milly stepped around the clutter, her movements clumsy, rushed. Her chest still throbbed from seeing the damage. She grabbed the box and ice, then returned, placing them beside Sage.

Without hesitation, Sage opened the kit and began taking out gauze and antiseptic, her fingers sure and quick.

Milly stayed standing, unsure of what to do. This seems so intimate like she shouldn't be observing it.

But,she watched as Sage leaned in closer to Bryan, whispering something Milly couldn't hear. Bryan's expression faltered, and his jaw unclenched just slightly.

"Bryan, you're not fine," Sage whispered, her voice soft and calm. "You don't have to be the tough guy with me. I'll always be here for you."

His lips quivered.
"I know I got you. But I hate that they still get to me."

"I know," Sage whispered. "They didn't win and never will. You're still here, fighting to survive. And trust me, you should've told me the funeral was today—I would've gone. You don't have to fight alone."

Bryan blinked rapidly. His eyes looked up at Sage as she leaned forward and rested her forehead gently against his.

Milly watched quietly, her breath caught.

There it was. Whatever it was between them. Not loud. Not romantic in the way people expected.

But real.
Loyal.
Unspoken.

Sage brushed her thumb carefully under his eye and whispered something quietly to him.

Bryan let out a shaky breath, then reached up and pressed his hand on hers. She stayed there with him. No teasing. No jokes.

Just care.

Milly blinked fast and turned away, giving them privacy.

Would she ever grow a connection like that with someone?

*
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What are everyone's thoughts on Austin's reasoning and apology to Milly?

And what do you think about Sage and Bryan's relationship and dynamic?