Reality

Chapter 22

I touch his elbow and offer him a small, knowing, and comforting smile. He lets out a shaky breath before nodding, slipping on his suit jacket and grabbing my hand.

He leads me down the hall to his living room, and I glance quickly to spot his mother and Chris still lingering in the kitchen, both brooding over coffee number who knows. When they hear us coming, they both swing their unpleased, disapproving gazes to us, and I quickly dart my eyes to the floor, cowering.

"She's coming?" Chis asks blatantly, not even trying to hide the repugnance in his tone.

"Don't start," Alex says lowly, in warning.

"Alex—" his mother starts, but is abruptly cut off.

"Don't start," Alex repeats, emphasizing the words, his patents wearing thin.

I glance up through my lashes to see Chris's hardened face, his jaw clinched unbelievably tight under the skin while Sandra purses her lips in a firm line, the both of them shooting daggers with their eyes.

"She's coming and that's final." Alex tugs on my hand, leading me to the door. He lets go of my hand momentarily to slip on his coat, quickly reclaiming it when his arm is through the sleeve. "Are we ready to go and get this damn thing over with?" he asks, looking to his mother and Chris, the vulnerability and fragility he posed minutes ago quickly fading and morphing into irritability.

Alex is like a of sheet ice, his moods shifting with the external factors around him. Most of the time he's like thick ice that's been building up forever in frigid temperatures, feet deep, and it takes a lot of effort to break him. And just as it seems some layers are starting to melt or be chipped away, he freezes back up again. But that's the thing about ice, eventually it's going to break. With force or by heat. And it seems like I'm the one who gets to see the broken pieces and the melted, transparent puddle side of him that shows all his emotions.

Right now I can tell the ice is thickening, Alex ready to protect and void himself of all emotions as the moment he's undoubtedly dread grows near. Alex has never been the best at expressing his emotions, concealing them most of the time. That's what he's had to do most of his life living in the spotlight after all, pretending everything in his life is perfect. Then, I don't think he's ever had anyone around him willing to sit down and ask him how he's doing and actually listen. That's something Alex told me he appreciated about me. That I cared and treated him like a normal human being.

Chris's phone chirps out a text and he snatches it from the countertop, a knot between his brows as he looks at the screen. "Yeah, let's go" he announces, standing from the bar stool and glancing at Sandra.

"Perfect," I hear Alex mumble sarcastically, opening up his front door and pulling me through.

Alex doesn't wait for Chris or his mother, leading me to the elevator and down to the underground garage. He stops behind a large black SUV that I can only assume is Chris's or his mothers. His right foot taps impatiently as he looks around aimlessly, like he's trying to find something to focus on to distract him and take his mind off things.

I touch my free hand to his forearm and squeeze his hand that's in mine. His eyes quickly land on mine and he takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he wills himself to calm down. But I can still feel the anxiousness vibrating off of him.

The elevator dings and the doors grind open. "If you would just wait a damn minute," I hear Chris grumble, the jingling of his keys and the clicking of Sandra's heels cutting through the silence.

As soon as the doors unlock, Alex pulls the back passenger side door open, letting me in first where I climb over to the second seat behind the drivers. Chris and Sandra get in shortly after, him in the driver's seat and her in the passenger.