Where I Belong - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

I stayed like that, leaning into Elijah, the tears slowly ebbing away, though the ache in my chest still gnawed at me. His arms were the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.
I felt his fingers brush through my hair, slow and calming and for a long moment, I just let myself be held.
Finally, I felt Elijah pull back slightly, enough to look at me, but he didn't force me to meet his eyes. Instead, he brushed his thumb over my cheek, gently wiping away the tear streaks, though more quickly replaced them. I could hear his voice, low and calm.
"You don't have to do this on your own, Olivia," he said, his gaze softening. "We're not going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere."
I nodded but couldn't form the words to tell him how much that meant. How much the fact that he was still here meant, when everything inside me felt like it was falling apart.
The room was quiet. The others had remained silent, but I could feel their presence.
As my sobs quieted down, I finally took a shaky breath. And another.
"Sorry," I whispered, barely able to get the words out, but Elijah shook his head.
"You need to stop apologising, sweetheart," Elijah whispered to me with a small smile on his face. "Maybe we should let you rest for a little while. Come on, I'll take you upstairs."
I looked up at him, feeling utterly drained. Every muscle in my body was tight, my head heavy, but I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to go back to my room, back to the quiet that had been suffocating me.
"I'm...I'm okay," I said, though it felt like a lie.
"You're not okay," Silas's voice cut in softly. "And that's okay, too. We're not going to force you to be okay right now. But you can stay down and sit with us while we finish off dinner if you want?"
I hesitated, torn between wanting to hide and wanting to not feel so isolated.
"You don't have to talk," Elijah added gently. "Just sit with us."
I nodded, my hands still trembling slightly as I wiped my face. The room was still tense, but somehow it felt a little safer.
As the conversation at the dinner table shifted from one topic to another, Zane turned his attention to me with a slightly teasing grin. "So, Olivia," he asked, glancing over at me, "what did you get up to today?"
I fiddled with my fork, not quite sure how to answer. I didn't want to get into the emotional stuff, not in front of all of them. But I also didn't want to lie. "Just, uh, hung out. Watched TV with Theo," I replied.
Zane raised an eyebrow. "Watched TV, huh? Sounds thrilling."
The others slowly stopped talking amongst each other and started listening to our conversation, clearly interested. But it was Silas who leaned forward, a smirk spreading across his face. "What were you two watching? Something intense? A boring documentary? Or did you go for one of those action movies with too many explosions?"
I waited for Theo to say something but he was silent. I felt my stomach tighten as I realised that I was the one who had to reply. "Um...it was a romance one."
"No way!", Silas said, his voice filled with amusement. "Theo picked a rom-com? What happened, man? Getting soft on us?"
Theo groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Can we not make this a thing?", he muttered, clearly embarrassed.
Eros leaned back in his chair, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Oh man, I knew there was something about you I liked, Theo. Big romantic at heart, huh?"
Theo shot him a glare, but Eros just laughed. "What was it? The one with the awkward meet-cute? Or the one where they end up at the airport at the last minute, declaring their undying love?"
I felt my face flush, and I dropped my gaze to my plate, hoping they couldn't see how embarrassed I was. But the teasing wasn't mean-spirited, just lighthearted banter. Still, it felt strange, watching a rom-com wasn't something I ever imagined Theo doing, let alone with me.
Zane, sensing Theo was close to losing it, gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "It's all good, man. Everyone's got a soft spot for a good love story."
Theo shook his head but couldn't help laugh under his breath. "Alright that's enough, can we move on already?"
They all laughed, the atmosphere light and easy. Even I couldn't help but smile, despite the embarrassment still lingering in my chest.
Zane gave me a wink, shifting the conversation to something else, but the teasing carried on for a while longer, and for the first time in a long time, I felt...normal. Or at least, like I could be.
After dinner, the house seemed to settle into a quiet rhythm. The clatter of dishes being cleared away, the murmur of low conversations, the occasional laugh. All of it felt distant as I picked at my food, trying to keep a low profile. They didn't ask anything else about the scars, or about the breakdown at the table, and I was grateful for it.
After some time, I excused myself from the table, mumbling something about needing rest, and retreated upstairs to the sanctuary of my room.
My room was my safe space, but it also felt suffocating now, like the walls were closing in. I stood by the window for a moment, staring out into the night, watching the moonlight glimmer on the surface of the still lake. My mind wandered back to the breakdown in the living room – the way Elijah had held me, the gentle assurance in his voice. It had been comforting, but now, alone with my thoughts, it felt like I was just waiting for the next wave to crash over me.
Just as I was about to sit on the bed, a knock at the door startled me. My heart skipped, and I swallowed hard, not sure whether I wanted to see anyone right now.
"Olivia?"
I heard Eros's voice from the other side, low and hesitant. "Can I come in?"
I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I was ready for this. I hadn't spoken to him directly since the night everything had started to spiral. But something in his tone made me nod silently, my voice caught in my throat.
The door creaked open, and Eros stepped inside, closing it softly behind him. He looked as if he wasn't entirely sure what to do next, standing there awkwardly for a second, eyes scanning the room before finally meeting mine.
"Olivia, I–", he paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry."
His words hung in the air, thick with regret. He stepped closer, his presence somehow filling the space between us.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. His usual confident demeanour was gone, and it was replaced with something more fragile.
"I was wrong," his voice was lower now, almost hesitant. "I...I never should have said that to you. I've been an idiot, and I didn't stop to think how much that would hurt you."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
"You...you made me feel like I didn't belong," I whispered, trying to convey a slither of what I had been feeling. "Like I wasn't part of this family...like I didn't belong here," my voice cracked as the words came out of my mouth.
Eros flinched at the sound of my words, his face contorting in guilt. He took a step forward, but I instinctively took a step back, my hands shaking beside me.
"I never should have made you feel that way," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I was angry, and I lashed out. But that was my problem, not yours. You've always belonged here."
I shook my head quickly, my heart hammering in my chest. His words felt like a balm, but I didn't know how to accept them. How could I, when I wasn't even sure I belonged anywhere?
"You don't get it," I muttered, too quietly for him to hear. "I'm not like you. I'm not like any of you."
Eros's eyes softened, and he stepped closer, just a little bit, but not enough to make me feel cornered. His voice was gentle now, like he was afraid of breaking something even more fragile than the space between us.
"Olivia...that's exactly it," he said, his tone steady, but with an undercurrent of emotion I didn't know how to process. "You don't have to be like any of us. You just have to be you. And I know I screwed up. I know I made you feel like an outsider, but I swear to you, you're not. You belong. Please don't think otherwise."
I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it was like the weight of everything that had happened was crashing down on me again.
"I'm so sorry," Eros said again, his voice breaking slightly, as if the weight of his own guilt was threatening to crush him. "I never should've said that. Please...don't shut me out. Don't shut us out. I want to make this right."
I couldn't look at him anymore. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to blink back the tears that had started to well up.
"I don't know what to do with this," I whispered, my voice so quiet I almost didn't recognise it. "I don't know what to do with your apology."
Eros's jaw tightened for a moment, like my words had stung more than I meant them to, but he didn't pull away. He didn't retreat into himself like I thought he might. Instead, his hand lingered on mine, his touch gentle and steady, as if to remind me that he was still there, still trying to make it right.
"Livy," he said softly, his voice taking on a different tone, one I wasn't used to hearing from him. The way he said it was like a whisper, like the name was meant for only us, like it was a secret shared between the two of us alone.
I blinked, startled by the sound of the name. It felt unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar at the same time. Something about it, the way he said it, stirred something deep inside me.
I pulled my hand back slightly, my heart skipping a beat. "Livy?" I repeated, trying the name out in my head. It had a soft ring to it, like a memory I couldn't quite grasp.
His gaze softened at the sound of it. "Yeah," Eros said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You probably don't remember, but when we were kids, you used to hate it when I called you that. You'd always make a face and say, 'That's not my name.'"
My chest tightened. My breath caught in my throat as a strange, distant memory floated to the surface. I couldn't place the exact moment, but I could almost hear the sound of a younger Eros calling me that – Livy – like it was something that had slipped away over the years, lost in the noise of everything that had happened since then.
"I-I remember..." My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard, trying to ground myself in the present. "I remember hearing that name when I was younger. But I-I didn't remember who said it until now."
I looked at him, trying to read his expression, but his face was unreadable, a faint trace of regret lingering in his eyes.
"It used to make you laugh," he said with a small, almost sad smile. "I remember you'd roll your eyes at me, but you'd smile just a little bit, too."
I could feel the stir of emotion in my chest, something raw and painful but somehow, bittersweet. A small part of me wanted to reach out, to lean into the familiarity of the moment. To let the memories come flooding back, even if they were hazy and fractured.
"I know it's hard, Livy," he said after a long pause. "I know I messed up. But I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
I looked at him, and for a long moment, neither of us spoke. His words echoing in my mind, like a promise I didn't know how to accept.
I slowly let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"I want to believe you," I whispered, my voice almost breaking.
His gaze softened as he stepped closer, just a fraction of a step, but enough for me to feel the warmth of his presence, a quiet understanding in his eyes.
"You don't have to believe me all at once," he said softly. "But I'll be here for as long as you need. I won't leave you like that again. I promise."
I looked up at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, I saw the person who had just as much pain as I did, who had made a mistake but was still standing here, waiting to make things right. And despite everything, despite the fear and the uncertainty, I saw someone who wasn't going anywhere.
I gave him a small hesitant nod, not trusting words to come out of my mouth.
Eros didn't say anything at first. Instead, he let out a quiet exhale and gave me a soft smile, the kind that reached his eyes, like it was a relief for him too. A small, tentative step forward for both of us.
"Thanks, Livy," he said quietly, his voice full of gratitude. "I'll make sure you don't regret it."
Eros lingered by the door, his hand resting on the doorknob as if he was waiting for something. I could feel the weight of the moment, like he was about to step away, and I wasn't quite ready for him to go. There was still something unsaid, something I hadn't fully processed, and I couldn't let him leave without asking.
"Wait," I said, my voice quiet but he seemed to have heard it anyway.
He paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
I hesitated, unsure if I was overstepping, but the question had been nagging at me since he'd spoken that name, and something in me wanted to know more. Something in me wanted to remember.
"What...what did I used to call you when we were kids?" I asked, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "You had a nickname for me. I remember you calling me something, but I can't–"
Eros turned back slowly, a soft, almost wistful expression crossing his face. For a moment, I thought he might not answer, or maybe he didn't want to reopen old memories. But then he sighed, a small, almost sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"You used to call me 'Ro'," he said quietly. "I don't think anyone else ever called me that."
His words were tinged with nostalgia, a glimmer of a time when things had been simpler, when we had been closer. I could see it in his eyes, that he was remembering, too. The way we used to be.
"'Ro,'" I repeated softly, the sound of it almost foreign to me now. It was like hearing a name that belonged to someone else, someone I hadn't been in years. But hearing it from him, it almost felt comforting. A link to the past, to a version of us that hadn't been so tangled up in hurt.
He didn't say anything at first, just stared at me like he was trying to gauge my reaction. I couldn't quite tell what he was thinking, but the moment felt delicate, like it might shatter if either of us moved wrong.
"Why did you stop calling me that?" I asked, almost too quietly. I didn't mean to, but the question slipped out.
Eros's smile faded, and he glanced down at his feet for a second, as though weighing the right words to say. "I guess...I guess I didn't feel like I deserved it anymore," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not after everything. After I–"
"Don't," I interrupted softly, not wanting him to say it. I didn't want him to go there. I had already heard it too many times in my own head. "You don't have to explain that to me."
For a moment, neither of us spoke. It was a fragile silence, full of things unspoken. But there was a shift in the air, something between us changing. Maybe we couldn't go back to what we were, but at least we could try to build something new. Even if it was small.
Eros finally nodded, pushing open the door. "If you ever want to call me 'Ro' again, you can," he said with a half-smile. "No pressure. Just...whenever you're ready."
I nodded, and as he stepped out of the room, I let out a breath I didn't realise I had been holding. There was so much left to figure out, but now, I didn't feel so alone.