Chapter 18 : A Bond on the Brink
(Narrator : Josh)
It’s been a few days since everything blew up. The constant stream of messages from our friends has slowed down a bit, and I’ve managed to put some order to the chaos in my head. It’s like my mind has found a way to compartmentalize all of this mess. But Jessica… that’s a whole different story.
I see her every day, more tense, quieter than ever. She spends hours working in her room, and even when she comes out, her face is etched with a kind of exhaustion I know all too well. The kind that comes from overthinking, from running in endless circles inside your own mind.
I know what’s eating at her. In a week, we’re supposed to host our friends here. It’s mandatory—a ritual in our group. Whenever a new couple forms, it’s tradition: you invite everyone over for dinner and a night of celebration. It’s supposed to be fun, a way to toast something new and exciting. But for us… it’s just another lie we have to carry.
This is ridiculous. All of this, just to keep up appearances. But we don’t really have a choice, do we?
Just thinking about it makes me want to cancel everything. But I know that’s impossible. Harper and Paul would be the first to show up here, even without an invitation. And Jessica knows it too, which only adds to her stress.
As for me, I’m trying not to think about it. Not right now. My mind is on another night entirely—Saturday night, with Lise. Just the thought of her lifts some of the weight off my shoulders. She’s gorgeous, vibrant, and every moment I’ve spent with her has felt so effortless. We have this connection… this chemistry that you can’t fake.
I’m not kidding myself: Saturday, it’s going to happen. That much is clear. She knows what she wants, and so do I. Since I met her, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. And in the chaos my life has become, the thought of her feels like a breath of fresh air.
Finally, a moment for myself. No constant pressure, no damn lies.
But every time I catch myself smiling at the thought of Lise, my mind drifts back to Jessica, shut away in her room, and guilt creeps in. Almost.
Ever since I met her at the bar where I work as a bouncer, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. She has that European charm, a mix of confidence and softness that completely disarms me. Every conversation with her flows so naturally, so effortlessly. And damn, she’s stunning. Her eyes light up when she laughs, and her voice… it’s like a melody that sticks with you.
I think back to our last exchange, when she gave me that sly smile, that look that said everything without her needing to utter a word.
I’m not deluding myself. We both know where this is headed. There’s no need for grand gestures or awkward conversations. The chemistry between us is undeniable, almost electric. I can already imagine her hands on me, her lips, her body pressed against mine. Just the thought makes me smile.
Finally, something simple amidst all this chaos. A night where I can relax, where I can forget everything else…
I’m sure this evening with Lise will be perfect. The way we click, the way we get along, it’ll all just fall into place naturally. It’s exactly what I need right now. A moment for myself, far from the lies, the misunderstandings, and all the weight I’ve been carrying with Jessica.
And yet, I can’t ignore that something feels… off. Ever since I mentioned Lise to Jessica and asked her to give us the apartment for the evening, she’s been acting differently. Distant. Like something’s bothering her.
She didn’t object; she even said it was a good idea. But I can tell something’s wrong. Over the past few days, she’s been avoiding me, only leaving her room to grab food or a glass of water. And when I try to talk to her, she gives me these short, half-hearted answers, as if she’d rather not speak at all.
Is it just the stress about the upcoming night with our friends? Or is it me?
I can’t figure out what’s changed. We’d started to rebuild some sort of connection lately, despite everything. But now… she seems somewhere else entirely. And honestly, it’s unsettling. This isn’t Jess. She doesn’t act like this.
It’s almost noon, and I’m lingering in the kitchen, trying to figure out how to kill time. The tension in the air is still thick. Jessica has been shut in her room all morning, probably working or overthinking things like she’s been doing a lot lately.
I can’t stand seeing her like this. This isn’t Jess. She’s always been so full of energy, quick with a joke or a snarky remark. Now, it’s like that light in her has gone out. And it’s eating me alive.
I take a deep breath and decide to do something. Nothing big, just a small gesture. I grab a saucepan and some milk to make hot chocolate. It’s her thing, especially when she needs comfort.
As the milk and cocoa blend together, a sweet smell fills the kitchen. It takes me back to those afternoons we spent together as kids. Those times when everything was simple, when we could just be brother and sister, without all the complications.
I knock gently on her door. Her voice, slightly muffled, answers:
- Jessica (calm): “Yeah? Come in.”
I open the door with a smile and hold out the mug of hot chocolate toward her.
- Josh (smiling): “Special delivery for my favorite little sister.”
She looks up from her screen, and for the first time in days, I see a genuine smile on her face. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest.
- Jessica (surprised, smiling faintly): “Thanks, Josh. You know you don’t have to play waiter, right?”
- Josh (teasing): “Oh, but I do. It’s part of the service. Marshmallows are extra, though—only if you tip.”
She laughs softly, and that sound… it’s like everything is okay again, even if it’s just for a few seconds. I sit on the edge of her bed, but before I can say anything, her phone starts ringing.
- Jessica: “Shit, it’s work. Sorry, Josh, I have to take this.”
I nod, getting up without pressing further.
- Josh (smiling): “No problem. Just make sure you drink that before it gets cold, okay?”
She gives me a quick wave of thanks, already focused on her call. I close the door gently behind me and head back to the living room, my smile fading slowly.
That moment was nice, but… it doesn’t feel like enough.
The evening settles in slowly. Jessica is curled up on the couch, and I’m finishing up getting ready for work. The silence between us feels heavier than it should. I glance at her, huddled in the corner, her eyes fixed on the television. Some mindless show is playing, but I can tell she’s not really watching it. She’s somewhere else—lost in her head again.
I grab my bag and walk through the living room to say goodbye. She turns her head toward me, her face still carrying that quiet exhaustion that never seems to leave her these days.
- Josh (smiling): “Have a good night, Jess. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
She gives me a faint, almost mechanical smile.
- Jessica (calm but distracted): “Take care, Josh. Good night.”
I nod, hesitating for a second longer. I want to say something—anything—to bridge the gap between us. But nothing comes. So I just smile back and gently close the door behind me.
The cool night air hits me as I walk to the car. I toss my bag onto the passenger seat and start the engine, the hum breaking the silence. But in my head, it’s anything but quiet.
What’s wrong? Why are we drifting so far apart?
I hate it. This silence between us, this invisible wall that seems to grow higher every day. We’ve always had that connection, that unspoken understanding. And now… it feels like she’s slipping away from me.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, letting out a long sigh. Maybe things will go back to normal after this damn dinner with our friends. Maybe it’s just a phase. But deep down, a small voice whispers that nothing will ever be the same again.
As I drive through the quiet streets, one thought pushes its way to the front of my mind: I need to do something. I don’t know what, but I have to find a way to fix this. Jessica is my sister, my family. No matter what else is going on, I can’t lose her—not because of this fucked-up situation.
The drive to work has never felt this long. The hum of the engine is the only sound accompanying me, but it’s not enough to drown out the growing sense of emptiness settling inside me.