Skate to me slow

Chapter Two

***Lillianna POV***

September

“I don’t see why you boys can’t just live here,” Mom says, her voice trembling like she’s already missing them. “You know Bishop is welcome to stay here too.”

Her hands are fussing with the dish towel she’s holding, twisting it until it’s a wrinkled mess. Tears shine in her eyes as she looks at Toby.

“I know, Mom.” Toby chuckles softly, like he’s trying to make it easier for her. “But we want the full college experience. Plus, with our hockey schedule, it’d just be easier to live on campus.”

“Fine,” she sighs, but the sound is full of defeat. “But you have to come home every Sunday for supper. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Toby smiles that smile — the one that used to be just for me — and suddenly I can’t breathe.

Full college experience.

Since when? Toby’s never cared about parties, dorm life, or girls who squeal at the sight of a varsity jacket. He’s always been content with late-night skating sessions, quiet drives, and the two of us laughing over nothing at all.

The thought of girls throwing themselves at him — or Bishop — makes my stomach twist until I feel sick.

They’re my people. My constants. And now they’re leaving.

I can’t remember a single day where I didn’t see Toby. Even when we were little, he was always there — a shadow beside me, a hand pulling me up when I fell. Now he’s moving out, and it feels like someone’s ripping the air out of my lungs.

I keep my eyes on him as he talks to his dad. Our dad, technically — Theo. The word still feels strange in my mouth.

Toby laughs at something Theo says, and I swear I can feel that laugh all the way through me. It’s ridiculous, the way one sound can both heal and hurt you at the same time.

I love him. God, I love him more than I should.

People say it’s weird — the way we are, how close we’ve always been — but they don’t understand. He’s not my blood. He’s not my brother. He’s Toby. The boy who saved me from nightmares and bullies and every heartbreak that came before him.

He says he loves me too. All the time. But it’s never the kind of love I want. Never the kind that feels like it’s enough.

I wish he’d just admit it — that he feels it too. Then maybe this dull ache in my chest would finally quiet.

“Isaiah, Raiden!” Theo calls out, breaking the spell. “Come say goodbye to your brother!”

My twin brothers come running, shouting and laughing, clinging to Toby like he’s some kind of hero. And to them, he is. To all of us, he is.

My family is chaos and warmth and too many people talking at once — but it’s love. Real, messy, unfiltered love.

Mom’s in love with five men, and somehow, it works. Each of them fathered one of us, though none of that ever mattered inside these walls. I used to think love was simple like that — just something that fits, no matter how strange it looks from the outside.

Until Toby.

Rain, my mom’s partner, appears at my side, her perfume light and familiar. She’s the calm one, the one who sees through me like glass.

“You’re gonna miss him, aren’t you?” she says softly.

My throat tightens. I nod. “Yeah.”

Her eyes warm with understanding — the kind that says she knows everything. She was there the night I broke down, sobbing over what I saw behind that shed. She didn’t tell Mom. She didn’t judge. She just held me and listened while I said things no girl should ever have to admit about her stepbrother.

Since that night, everything’s changed. Toby started pulling away — just little things at first. Fewer texts. Shorter hugs. No more sneaking into my room when he couldn’t sleep.

Now it’s like he’s trying to train himself not to need me anymore.

And I hate it. I hate it so much I can barely stand to breathe when he’s near.

“Little Flower,” he says suddenly, his voice soft, teasing.

The nickname hits me like a memory I can touch. He hasn’t called me that in weeks. I blink up at him, and for a moment, it feels like summer again — before everything broke.

“You gonna come say goodbye, or what?”

The foyer is empty now — everyone else has drifted away. It’s just us.

I take a step toward him, then another. We stop a breath apart. His scent — clean soap, pine, and something that’s just him — hits me, and my chest tightens.

I trace his face with my eyes, memorizing him. The tiny scar on his jaw from that hockey fight, the way his dark hair falls into his eyes, the curve of his mouth when he tries not to smile. I want to burn every detail into my memory.

Because even if he’s only moving across town, it feels like he’s moving away from me.

“Lills…” His voice cracks a little, and he steps closer. His hand comes up, his thumb brushing the tears from my cheeks.

He shouldn’t touch me like that. He knows what it does to me. But he does anyway.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Please. I hate seeing you cry.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice shakes. “It’s just… I’m gonna miss you.”

He sighs, pulling me into his arms, and I melt against him before I can stop myself. My fists clutch the back of his shirt. His heartbeat is steady under my ear, too calm for what’s happening inside me.

“I might be moving out of the house, but I’m not moving that far away,” he murmurs.

“It’s not that, and you know it.” My words are small against his chest, swallowed by the fabric of his shirt.

We stand there in silence, holding onto something we both know is slipping through our fingers.

Then, quietly, he says, “I love you, Lilly.”

It’s soft. Final. Like he’s closing a door between us. He kisses the top of my head — one of those careful, brotherly kisses that cut deeper than anything else — and steps back before I can speak.

By the time I open my mouth, he’s already turning away.

I watch him grab his bag and jog out the door. Bishop’s Jeep is waiting, sunlight glinting off the hood.

Toby climbs in. Bishop leans out the window, his grin wicked. “See you later, il mio cuore. Be a good girl while we’re gone.”

Despite myself, I laugh, flipping him off. “In your dreams, Bishop.”

He clutches his chest dramatically, feigning pain, and I roll my eyes, but the smile fades as quickly as it comes.

Because Toby’s looking at me again.

His window’s down, and for a heartbeat, our eyes lock — full of everything we can’t say. Then Bishop shifts gears, and the Jeep rolls down the driveway.

Just like that, he’s gone.

The sound of gravel crunching fades into the distance. The silence that follows feels unbearable.

“How you doing, Lillypad?” Rain’s voice is soft behind me. She rests her chin on my shoulder, her warmth grounding me.

“Not good,” I whisper.

“Don’t give up on him, okay?”

“I won’t,” I say, though my throat burns with the effort.

Because the truth is, I can’t.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.

Toby Munro might be gone for now, but my heart is still his — broken pieces and all.

And I intend to find out what’s really going on inside that beautiful, complicated mind of his.

One way or another.