Downstairs, Bryan was lounging on the couch with Avery practically draped over him, her head resting against his chest. He had one arm wrapped tightly around her while the other lazily reached for a slice of fruit. When he spotted me, he didn’t bother to stand. Instead, he tightened his hold on Avery and let out a chuckle.
“Superman brother,” he said with a mocking grin, “let’s leave it at that. Take care out there—and, oh, try not to get caught by the paparazzi.”
Avery snuggled closer into him, her voice syrupy as she said, “You’re the best, Bryan.”
He didn’t look at me again. His focus was back on the movie, his fingers idly brushing Avery’s arm as if I wasn’t even there.
I couldn’t stand another second in that house. I slipped on my shoes, yanked the door open, and left without a word.
Once outside, I leaned heavily against the closed door, exhaling a long, weary sigh.
The air felt fresher out here, but it didn’t stop the bitterness that lingered in my chest.