Rea didn't like this.
Not one bit.
Aster had left early that morning to pick up his things from home. He hadn't told her parents—just muttered something about "grabbing his stuff" before slipping out the door.
Rea had tried to stop him.
Tried to tell him it was a terrible idea to go back to that house alone.
But, of course, Aster being Aster, he had just smirked and said, "Relax, Jones. I'll be fine."
That had been hours ago.
And Rea?
Rea was not fine.
She paced the living room, her phone clutched in her hand, debating whether she should call him.
What if something happened?
What if Jaxon—
The front door creaked open.
Rea spun around, heart slamming against her ribs.
Aster stepped inside, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, completely unharmed.
Relief crashed into her so fast she almost felt dizzy.
Then—
"What the hell took you so long?" she snapped, storming toward him.
Aster blinked. "Good to see you too."
Rea punched his arm.
Aster winced. "Ow."
"Don't 'ow' me," Rea hissed. "You disappeared for hours, Aster!"
Aster sighed, rubbing his arm. "Relax. I told you—I was fine."
Rea clenched her fists. "You could've at least texted me."
Aster opened his mouth, then shut it, like he hadn't considered that.
Rea groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "You're impossible."
Aster smirked. "And yet, you tolerate me."
Rea scowled. "Barely."
Aster chuckled, setting his bag down. "If it makes you feel better, Jaxon didn't even care that I was leaving."
Rea frowned. "What?"
Aster shrugged. "Didn't stop me. Didn't even look at me, really. Just said something about how 'at least he doesn't have to deal with me anymore.'"
Rea's stomach twisted.
Aster said it so casually.
Like it didn't hurt.
Like it hadn't hurt for a long time.
Rea hesitated, then asked softly, "What else did he say?"
Aster leaned against the couch, exhaling. "Nothing new."
"Aster."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He said he hates me. That he always has."
Rea's breath caught. "He actually said that?"
Aster gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Not like it's a shock, though."
Rea clenched her jaw. "That's not—" She cut herself off, fists shaking.
Aster watched her, something unreadable in his expression.
Then, after a long pause—
"He said I remind him of our dad."
Rea inhaled sharply.
Aster smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Apparently, that's why he can't stand me. Says I look like him. Act like him."
Rea's chest ached.
Aster crossed his arms. "Funny thing is, I don't even remember the guy."
Rea hesitated. "You don't?"
Aster shook his head. "He left when I was little. All I know is what Jaxon told me."
Rea swallowed. "And what did Jaxon tell you?"
Aster tilted his head, lips twitching in a bitter smile. "That he was a piece of shit."
Rea felt sick.
Aster sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Jaxon says our mom was the only decent one between them. But she died when I was six, so I don't remember her much either."
Rea stared at him, heart breaking.
She wanted to say something.
Wanted to tell him that Jaxon was wrong.
That Aster wasn't like his father.
That he wasn't anything like the people who had hurt him.
But Aster just shook his head, like he already knew what she was thinking.
"Anyway," he muttered, pushing off the couch. "Not like it matters now."
Rea clenched her fists. "Of course it matters, Aster."
Aster looked at her, tired but amused. "You really need to learn how to let things go, Jones."
Rea glared at him. "And you need to stop acting like this isn't a big deal."
Aster just smirked, shouldering his duffel bag. "C'mon, show me where I'm sleeping."
Rea exhaled sharply, but didn't argue.
She led him upstairs, her mind still reeling from everything he had just told her.
But one thing was certain.
Jaxon might not have cared that Aster left.
But she did.