15. Levi

CHAPTER 15

Levi

Aiden’s chalet sat quiet, tucked into the hallowed stillness of the evening. Soft light spilled from the windows across the snow-covered path. I watched it for a moment, arms crossed tight against the cold, but my feet wouldn’t listen to my brain.

He was fine. He didn’t need me hovering. I could go back inside, leave him alone, respect his space.

But my feet didn’t move.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, caught in my own thoughts.

Despite the awkwardness that now existed between the two of us, there had been laughter and chatter at the dinner table. But the moment he stood and walked out, something had shifted. His absence felt like an empty space in my chest that no one else could fill.

The way his shoulders had slumped as he left, the way his voice had cracked when he spoke his last words made me uneasy. He wasn’t sick. He was upset. And upset... upset was worse.

I glanced down at my watch. Four minutes, a dozen failed attempts to talk myself out of going to him. My feet moved until the door was suddenly in front of me, my hand raised. I knocked on the door once, twice, my breath hanging in the frigid air. The knock sounded louder than I wanted it to.

The door cracked open just wide enough for him to peek through. His eyes were red, lips trembling, and I wasn’t ready for how it hit me. He froze when he saw me, looking as surprised as I was to be standing here.

He quickly straightened, pulling himself together like he could force away the vulnerability that clung to him.

“What do you want?” His voice was sharp, but even through the bite of it, I could hear the tremor.

“I wanted to check on you. You left kind of suddenly.”

“I’m fine.” He stepped back, gripping the edge of the door like he was preparing for something. Like he had to brace himself. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

I softened my tone, keeping my feet planted. “I’m not babysitting. Just making sure you’re okay.”

He snorted, a humorless sound. “Well, mission accomplished. I’m great. See you tomorrow.”

Before I could process it, he started to shut the door. I caught it, holding it steady with my hand.

“Aiden.”

His glare could’ve cut through steel, but the way his shoulders hunched in on themselves, the way he seemed to shrink under the weight of whatever it was he was feeling... it made my chest tighten.

“You’re not my dad, Levi. Or my brother. Or my fucking therapist.” His voice cracked, climbing higher. “You don’t have to check in on me like I’m some kind of... of charity case.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“Isn’t it?” He crossed his arms, defiant, but it wasn’t enough to hide the way his voice wavered. The way his chin trembled. “You see some sad little orphan boy and think you’ll swoop in and fix everything? Does that make you feel good? Like a hero?”

His words hit hard, sharp and cold. If I didn’t see how lost he was behind them, maybe they would’ve stung more. His voice cracked again, his chin quivering with something raw I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Go back to your perfect family dinner,” he spat, but even that wasn’t as fierce as it sounded. “I don’t need you.”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “I think you do.”

His breath hitched. His arms tightened around himself, but it wasn’t enough to push me away. He swayed, just slightly, and I could see the fight leaving him, the sharp edges of anger melting into something else. I didn’t wait.

I closed the distance, wrapping my arms around him before either of us could think better of it.

He froze, stiff in my arms. Like he was afraid to let go. But then, slowly, he melted against me. His hands fisted into my shirt, and I could feel him exhale shakily, a broken sound that nearly tore me apart.

“There we go,” I murmured, holding him steady as his weight sank into me, his body relaxing just enough for me to guide us inside. I kicked the door shut behind me, but Aiden didn’t protest. He didn’t say anything. He just stayed there, his head resting against my chest like he belonged there.

And maybe he did. Maybe that’s where he belonged.

Minutes stretched by. Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t the oppressive kind. His breath steadied, slow and even, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like we were both just... here.

Then his voice came, small and raw, almost a whisper. “I hate this.”

“Hate what?”

“Feeling like this. Missing things I barely even remember.”

I stroked his back, slow and steady. “Family dinners can be hard.”

He snorted softly, the sound muffled against my shirt. “Yeah, you think?”

“Do you want me to call Nicholas for you?”

He stiffened, pulling away just enough to shake his head. “No. God, no. He’d just... I can’t.”

“All right,” I said softly. “We won’t. It’s just you and me.”

We stood there like the world outside didn’t matter. His hands slowly loosened, but he didn’t pull away.

I pressed my chin to the top of his head, whispering, “You’re not alone, Aiden.”

He barely responded, just a whisper so quiet I almost missed it. “Feels like I am.”

I pulled him closer, cupping his cheeks like something fragile, something precious. “Not anymore.”