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I point to the tower. “We gotta clean up first. Remember what happened last night?”
At my reminder of last night’s drama, Ethan’s face scrunches. “Oh. Yeah.” He looks around the spacious living room with its airy ceilings and mostly white and gray furniture. “Can you hold the box? I’ll smash the tower.” He grins at that.
Grateful to skip a repeat of last night’s tears over not being able to watch cartoons before bed, I hold the box while Ethan proceeds to Hulk-smash his way through taking apart the tower we spent the last hour building. I’m helping him snap the lid on top of the giant plastic storage container when Casey wanders back into the living room, baby monitor clipped to her pants.
“Mommy! We cleaned up. Can I watch TV with Uncle Teddy?” Ethan throws himself at her legs, wrapping his arms around my sister’s hips and staring up at her from below her belly button.
“Good job cleaning up, buddy. You can go watch one episode but then it’s time for bed.” Casey ruffles his hair and something twists in my chest at the sight. She may complain about the kids being a handful, but I know she’s happier now than she’s ever been.
Half an hour and a nonsensical cartoon later, Ethan hops up from his spot cuddled into my side on the couch. “Night, Uncle Teddy.” He’s out of the room in a flash, swinging on the doorway as he rounds the corner.
Pulling out my phone, I unlock it, hoping for some kind of message. I’m not really sure what I’m looking for, just some kind of acknowledgement that I matter to someone outside of work. Without anyone to respond to, I scroll lazily through my various social media apps, killing time.
“Who’s that? She’s gorgeous?” Casey says, plopping onto the couch next to me.
“That’s our Content Editor, Lauren Masterson.” I clear my throat. “She’s, uh, Sophie’s best friend.”
Casey snatches my phone out of my hand. “Oooo, are we stalking her to find pictures of the elusive Sophie? Let me see.” She scrolls for a moment before handing the phone back with a disappointed look on her face. “You can do better than this, genius hacker little bro. Where’s the good stuff?”
I chuckle at her teasing even as a weight settles in the pit of my stomach. “What’s the point Case? She doesn’t want me. I came out here to get over her, not indulge your voyeuristic tendencies.”
“Why are you trying to get over her? I thought you wanted to try to win her over?” She holds my phone out of reach when I make a grab for it.
“She told me to leave her alone. I don’t want to be that guy.” I growl, crossing my arms and slumping back into the couch cushions. “I’m her boss, remember? There are lines I can’t cross.”
Casey snorts. “From what you’ve told me, it sounds like you crossed plenty of lines already. And that Sophie enjoyed crossing them with you. You haven’t told me why she wanted you to leave her alone. Care to share?”
“Not really.”
“Yes, you do.” Casey’s teasing words are accompanied by a series of pokes to the ribs. Why do older sisters always know the exact spot to tickle you to get their way?
“She wanted to date in secret, I wanted to date her for real. Every time I tried to do something nice for her, she would refuse it. Say it was too much.”
Casey is silent next to me, letting me talk. Knowing she’ll understand what I mean without me having to explain or hedge my thoughts, it all comes out in a rush.
“Case, she said that sending her a forty-dollar fruit arrangement was too expensive. That it was buying her affection and made her feel like a hooker. A hooker? You have no idea how smart and kind she is. I was proud to have her on my arm at the Youth in Tech event. God dammit, Case, I walked around that event thinking I was the luckiest man in the room to have such an amazing woman with me. Why can’t she see that?”
Pausing to take a breath, I risk a glance at my phone to avoid looking at Casey. Nothing. “She’s so worried about Emma’s hospital bill—but I would have paid it in an instant, if she would just ask. Instead, she applied to the company employee emergency fund. Did you know she and Emma share a one-bedroom apartment? Sophie sleeps on the couch so her daughter can have the bedroom. Every night I lay in my big, expensive bed, in my giant house, and I die inside thinking about her curled up on that sad old couch. I could buy her a house, or a new car, and not even notice the difference to my bank statement. But she insists on staying a secret. And she won’t ask for help, even though I know she needs it.”
We’re silent for a moment, while I attempt to collect my thoughts and calm my racing heart. The silence is broken by Casey’s quiet voice of reason beside me. “Trust me when I say, you can’t force someone to take your help if they don’t want it, Teddy. Even when you’re watching them hurt themselves. And it kills you with each breath, terrified it could be their last.” I wince at the reminder of her and Garrett’s past, the years they each spent in and out of rehab before they found their happily ever after together. “It seems so simple to us, to throw money at the problem. But it can’t be easy to accept when your pride is the only thing you have enough of.”
She lets me stew on her words for a second as a squawk from the baby monitor has her half off the couch, ready to go see what’s wrong with Clara. When no more noise follows, she sighs and curls back into my side. I wrap one arm around her shoulder, finding comfort in the warmth and weight of her against me. “I do understand Sophie’s need to not go public with you. You forget, little brother, most people didn’t grow up on red carpets and dealing with the paparazzi on a daily basis. She’s not as tough as you and has way more to lose.”
“That’s what Mercedes said. I’m starting to think you might be right.”
“Mercedes said it? Yes!” She pumps a fist in the air. “If Mercedes agrees then you know I’m right. So, what did Mercedes say you should do?”
“She told me to stop cornering Sophie and let her take the lead.”
Casey nods. “I agree.”
“But how can I let her take the lead when she won’t even talk to me? She hasn’t been at work all week and she hasn’t reached out once.” I scrub my free hand over my face, pulling on my chin. I haven’t been shaving like usual, my normal light beard grown out and shaggy. I tug at it, my skin itchy with the California heat.
“Have you reached out to make sure she’s okay? Not with an agenda, but just to check in. Don’t offer any help, just let her know you’re thinking of her. If she wants to respond she will.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then maybe, little bro, you really have to let her go.”
