Chapter Thirty-Five - It Explains A Lot.

Chapter Thirty-Five - It Explains A Lot.
Everly

Our night started okay. We made it through the million questions asked. We didn’t mess up. I have played the perfect, loving fiancée, but that is about to change. I am done playing that part. For the last fifteen minutes, I have sat here as Orson’s father and his brother, Ryan, have been nothing but cruel to him. Orson is acting like the fact that they’re ripping him to shreds isn’t bothering him. I know it is. His mother has stood there letting it happen. My parents were the same. 

Any calmness I had has now vanished. 

“You know what, the two of you need to shut the fuck up and back the hell off. What is wrong with you people? Family doesn’t treat family in the way you are treating Orson. It is disgusting. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. The only useless, stupid people here are you.” I yell. 

The room falls silent, all eyes on me after my outburst. They stare at me, mouths open. I couldn’t take it any longer. 

Ryan glares at me and scoffs. “You don’t know him well enough because if you did, you would know it is the truth. Who do you think you are talking to us in such a manner? Know your place.” He snaps. 

He did not just say that to me! Does he think that will make me back down and not say a word? Sit back, like a good girl and stay silent? If so, he is going to be disappointed. No one talks to me like that. I notice Orson tense next to me, his fist balling, ready to punch his brother. He doesn’t need to stand up for me. I can do that myself. 

“Know my place? Don’t talk to me like that, you spoiled brat! I may not have known him long, but I know one thing for sure, he is a better man than you. God, you really are a pathetic excuse of a man. Both of you are.” 

“Don’t you date talk to my husband and son like that.” His mother finally pipes in after letting her other son be torn to shreds. 

My attention focuses on her. “You aren’t much better. Orson is your son, too, but I didn’t see you stick up for him. You are as heartless as they are. What sort of mother allows that to happen?” I hiss back. 

“Get out of my house. Can you do anything right, Orson? Of all the women you have your pick of, you chose trash like her, who is being disrespectful to your family.” 

His father looks over at me, shaking his head in disgust before giving Orson a disappointed look. I swear, I am going to end up punching him. I am ready to lose my shit at him again, but before I can, Orson jumps in. He gets to his feet. 

“Don’t talk about Everly like that. You don’t even know her. Nothing she did or said was disrespectful. She has my back like a fiancée should. You would do the same for mom. Say whatever you want about me, but not her. She is the only one who gives a damn about me.” 

Orson’s calm voice and posture surprise me. For probably the first time, his father hands his head in shame, but doesn’t make an effort to apologise. 

“Orson, don’t say things like that. Of course, we care about you,” his mother says. 

I stop from scoffing at what she is saying. You don’t treat people who you care about in the way they all seem to treat him. 

“Funny way of showing,” Orson replies. 

Orson turns to me, offering me his hand. “Let’s go, angel.” 

I nod, taking his hand, and he pulls me to my feet. Keeping our fingers linked, we walk out without another word. No goodbye. No, thank you for dinner. The second we step outside and close the door, Orson lets it all out. 

He groans and turns, punching the brick wall. “Fuck! I shouldn’t have fucking come.” He hisses and then winces in pain. 

I rush over to him and pull him around to face me before he punches it again. He looks like he is ready, too. His eyes meet mine. They are full of sadness and anger. 

“Orson, breathe. Please calm down. I am sorry they treat you like that.” I say softly, looking at his hand. It is scratched, bleeding and swelling. 

He doesn’t say a word. I take the wipes from my bags and pull a couple out to clean his hand. “This may sting a little,” I warn, wiping them before holding the wipes against them. 

Orson doesn’t even flinch. He stares blankly, his eyes emotionless, like he doesn’t feel a thing. I clean it up the best I can, trying to stop the bleeding. It takes a few minutes, but it finally stops. 

“Orson, are you okay?” I ask, concerned. 

He snaps out of whatever trance he went into. “I am used to it. Thank you for sticking up for me.” 

Orson smiles, but it is a forced smile. 

“I wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing,” I reply. 

“It is appreciated. I will call the driver to come and get us.” 

We were supposed to be here for the next couple of hours, but Callum said he would stay close by. I nod, and Orson takes out his cell to call. Orson is acting like nothing happened. The way they treat him explains a lot. He is the way he is because of them. I didn’t plan to lose it tonight, but they crossed a line. One that pushed me over the edge. It was strange to see Orson so quiet and letting someone say horrible things to him. I am used to him being confident, arrogant and not taking nonsense from anyone. 

“The car will be here in ten minutes.” He says after ending the call. 

“Okay, do you want to return home or go out and drink?” 

I am sure he needs a drink or five after tonight. 

“A drink is what I need or ten. I don’t want to go out, though. I am in no mood to deal with people.” He sighs. 

“We can have a drink at home and order pizza.” 

The food from dinner was nice, but the portions were too small. They weren’t filling. Orson nods and suddenly pulls me close. What is he doing? My question is answered when he hugs me tightly to his chest. I don’t fight against it. I hug him back. I sense he needs it. It won’t be the only one tonight, he will need. I can deal with it for one night. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head. 

He keeps me close until we hear the car pull in behind us, then he lets me go. I can’t wait to get away from here, and I am sure he is the same.