Saving Sparrow (Slow Burns & Tragic Beginnings, #2)

by C.P. Harris

“To love me, you must love all of me, even the parts you don’t yet understand.”

This quote just told to me to prepare for devastation 🫠

His shoulders stiffened, his breathing evening out before he turned to me. I stared into the cruel eyes of the man in front of me and realized that someone was here.

Spidey senses are tingling…is this gonna be like Surving the Merge but more emotional?

That voice didn’t belong to my husband. It wasn’t the modest, sweet cadence that haunted my dreams. This man sounded hard, emotionless, impatient. It took everything in me not to break down in tears. I had to remember he was watching me.

The young, androgynous man glaring at me held none of the softness my husband did. This man’s pale blue eyes were cold, making the blizzard at my back feel like the tropics. His clothing was colorless and rigid, the shirt buttoned up to the column of his slender neck, the shoulders complete with epaulets. Nothing like the silks and chiffon the love of my life once wore.

There was something reptilian in the way he observed me. I felt like prey. Like I was the one who’d fallen right into his trap, instead of the other way around.

I thought our love would bring him back to me the moment he laid eyes on me, but it didn’t. What was I supposed to do now?

“His name is Sparrow. I met him once, only I didn’t know it at the time.”

I hadn’t thought further than getting inside the house.

Nothing I hate most then when a character makes a half baked plan…like why not make a plan a, b, c, or d. Would this not make the story more interesting to realize that for all your planning you still failed?

Finding him hadn’t ended my agony. I thought I’d be holding him in my arms right now, promising everything would be okay.

How long has the different personality been in charge and who/what triggered it?

Who was this man, and why did he need to be so disciplined? I

“How do you see this playing out? Do you think he’ll want to bond with a stranger who appears out of thin air?” I shook Amelia’s rational questions from my head. It was partly her fault we were in this situation to begin with.

Was Amelia right? Would he blame me for the worst thing that ever happened to me? Could I risk it? Was I brave enough?

I didn’t want him knowing the absolute worst about me. I didn’t want him to know I’d failed, that I’d broken my promise, my vows.

? Did he cheat?

“I’m his husband. I loved him. We loved him.”

“And what about me? What if I don’t get in?” “You go where I go.”

“You don’t need to be jealous, Quentin.”

QUENTIN!!! Where are you?!?

But did we know how to share? Could we learn? Something about Elliott made me want to try.

“You’re nothing to him. You tried to kill him. You wanted him dead.”

Did he do something to Quentin? Unknowingly?

I didn’t know how to answer that. I didn’t hurt Elliott—not in the way Sparrow thought. I hadn’t protected him, though. We hadn’t protected him. Our love hadn’t been enough.

“We loved you,” I whispered. We loved all of him, which meant even the part of him we didn’t know. “We… loved you too.”

I was in hell, right where I belonged.

WHAT DID YOU DO ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Did his demons keep him awake?

Seeing us triggered his guilt, and Quentin didn’t hesitate to lean into it.

“Throne of Glass,” I read, peering down at the book he held. “Are you a Maasassin?”

This book is losing a star for this alone. In the year of our Christ why do I have to hear, read, or see mentions of that lady?!?

“What does it mean to have a friend?” he whispered.

“My aunt Amelia never loved anyone.”

He reminded me that it was okay to be young, to play and have fun like no one else was watching. I loved my books, but sometimes I loved this even more.

If Elliott were a delicate flower, Sparrow was the sharp end of a blade.

“That’s not how this works. I’m not the one trying to stay alive.” “Aren’t you, though?”

“How did your mother die?” Sparrow’s back was to me, his hand white-knuckling the doorframe. “My stepfather killed her,” I whispered before he closed the door, locking me in again.

The difference was that Quentin and I wanted to solve it, whereas Elliott seemed content with not knowing all the parts of himself. He acted as if knowing was the thing to fear instead of it being the other way around.

“I need to be cared about, and Quentin needs to be all I have.” Our insecurities worked perfectly together, and maybe it wasn’t healthy, but it was what we wanted.

The three of us were inseparable.

I kind of wish this would have been shown to us instead of telling us.

Elliott liked to play, as if he’d never been allowed to before.

“I’m only telling you because I don’t want you getting startled if you bump into him in the halls one day. We all know bad things happen when you get scared, right?”

Maybe this time you’ll be the one left splattered on the concrete.”

What did he do to that lady?!?

We both had our roles, and I took pride in playing mine. I took pride in dealing with the aftermath.

“We were just three broken, codependent kids looking for a type of love no one could ever take from us. We had no boundaries, and before long, going too far didn’t seem far enough.”

“We suffocated each other, and the high we got from that felt incredible.

If only we could’ve figured out how to create a world that only the three of us existed in. Trouble came when the outside found its way in.”

I sat on the floor in front of Sparrow—if that was the name this alter went by—and vowed that I would fix things. That I would fulfill his silent request to make everything better.

I wished I’d been the kind of kid who cared more about innocent people getting hurt than me not being alone anymore.

You’re ours now, Elliott. We’ll take care of you.”

But all I had was my faith, even though it had failed me until now.

Tell them nothing, it read, and so I hadn’t. Not the good Samaritans who found me, not anyone. I’d been living by those three words ever since.

“What’s your name?” “Joshua.”

“Why are you here?” Why does Elliott need you?

Our love was built on top of a mountain of bad things.

I’d never spoken the actual words before, never verbally admitted that she’d taken her own life.

We’d all been too obsessed and in love to care about much else.

Mmmmmmm but I’m being told not shown