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It didn’t take long before it went from one day a week to all seven days.
Eventually, he stopped telling me about it, especially after a nasty argument we had. He blew up at me,saying how sick he was about me always being so passive-aggressive and how annoyed he was with my lack of sympathy.
We made up the same way we always did, but there was a new gulf between us that had never been there before, and I’d felt sick over the idea that I’d lost the confidence of my little brother. It was one of the reasons why I’d been so insistent on the weekly dinners, understanding that he needed some semblance of consistency in his life.
The bitter pill to swallow was that no matter how hard I’d worked as a kid or how much I did now, there might not be anything I could do to make up for what he’d missed out on during his formative years.
I honestly had no idea how to respond to this, and now, the only thing that came out of my mouth was something I couldn’t possibly have predicted.
“What happened to the sweater, then? Did you leave it at the house?”
He gave me a grin that bordered on savage before pulling his backpack toward him and unzipping it. “See for yourself.”
He pulled out the cloudy-soft fabric, which was remarkably the same color it’d always been, and he handed it to me. I took it, running the royal blue fabric through my hands, and brought it up to my nose, shutting my eyes as I breathed deeply.
Under the stale smell of unworn clothes, cedar wood, and a faint lingering of cigar smoke—either from the times she’d spent with my father or the times he would come back from his networking events covered in smoke—there was the smell of her Chanel perfume.
God, I miss you, I thought, choking back the sob that was gathering in my throat.
“You should have it,” Shane said. “She would’ve wanted you to wear it.”
“You know dad will probably call the police, right?” I said. “He’s going to try to make your life hell, even if all you took was a sweater.”
He shrugged. “Even if he does, at least there’s company in jail.”
Whatever had been left of my heart before he said that was decimated in the space of that sentence, and I turned away. Shane had always hated the sight of my tears, often shutting down and backtracking what he had to tell me if it meant his feelings might sadden me.
I didn’t want him shutting down again now.
“I’ll go check with Spencer about the food,” I said, getting up. “Everything you need is in the shower. Get changed if you want.”
“I’m sorry I messed up your time with your boyfriend,” he said, his morose voice coming in from behind me. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mess anything up,” I said, turning back to give him a brief smile. “I’m happy you’re here, Shane. We’re going to find a way to get through all of this. One day soon, I hope.”
Once I was just outside the room, I saw Spencer standing in the hallway. The look on his face was unreadable, so I did my best to smile, but it felt wooden.
“Hey. Is the food here yet?”
“In the kitchen,” he said, not smiling back. “You know, if your brother needs help with your dad, we can always get him a lawyer. No matter what kind of standing your dad has, I can get a lawyer to bury his ass.”
I stared at him, feeling the inside of my chest going metallically cold. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but whatever it was, it must stay between us.”
Fuck. The last thing I needed was Spencer Monroe pushing back on me because of my brother’s drug addiction. I could fall out of love as quickly as I thought I’d fallen in love with the man if he wanted to pull rank about this. I wouldn’t be an absolute bitch about it, but I didn’t need him or anyone telling me how to deal with my brother when they didn’t live my fucking life—or Shane’s.
Spencer eyed me with that businessman, billionaire-bastard look, examining me as if he were about to say something to educate me on everything he overheard. But, instead of saying anything, he simply nodded and turned, heading up the stairs to the room we shared.
I had no idea where this would go or what Spencer thought about it. All I knew was that if we did have some form of a relationship, this part might be a bit of a challenge.
Chapter Twenty-Four
NAT
Things were sufficiently tense downstairs in the kitchen as we focused heavily on our Chinese food. I could tell Spencer was keeping something on a slow-burning smolder, clearly waiting patiently for us to get back upstairs so he could voice his opinion on the subject when we were alone.
I zoned out for most of the conversation while we ate. Spencer and Shane sat together, eating and riffing off each other for what felt like forever, even though it had most likely been only fifteen minutes. I played with my food, unable to stomach anything else. Despite the voracious hunger I felt when we got back home, despite the seductive smell of garlic, ginger, and noodles, I couldn’t bring myself to swallow more than a few bites of food here or there. Both Spencer and my brother kept looking at me with concern, which I had to admit was valid.
I took my plate to the sink, keeping my back to the two men behind me, who continued chatting as I stepped away.
