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I don’t want her looking at him or talking to him. Not that I have any choice. But he’s the polished, hard-working brother who always does the right thing. I’m the other side of the coin—tarnished and corroded.
Graysen sits beside me on the couch I always sit on during our sessions, and confidence flows through me. It’s a small gesture, her sitting beside me. It’s like she’s trying to communicate she’s on my side.
“Alexei is on track to graduate from Beckett in thirteen days,” she says. “He’s worked hard here, not just in therapy but in physical rehab, too.”
Anton nods. Several seconds of silence pass before Graysen speaks again.
“I’m very proud of Alexei for what he’s done here.”
“But the real test will be sticking with it once he’s done here, right?” my brother says. “He can’t get alcohol in here, no matter how much he wants it.”
“I don’t think of it that way,” Graysen responds. “There are many patients who don’t complete our program. It’s about more than just not drinking anymore. Think of his sobriety like climbing a mountain. Every step he takes is work toward that goal.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Anton says. “I’m really glad he’s here, and that he’s trying to get better. I’ve been worried about his drinking for a while now.”
“Can you talk to him, instead of me?” Graysen says. “Tell him how it feels to see him today.”
Anton hesitates and looks at me. “It’s good. I don’t want you to think I just dumped you off in here and forgot about you. It was tough love.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here and all,” I say, “but when I woke up in the hospital and you sent your team owner to see me instead of coming yourself…that shit hurt.”
“How many times have I been there? You think I can just leave my team to come sit beside your bed because you got drunk and drove into a barn?”
He’s talking to me in the tone, like he’s a frustrated mom and I’m his misbehaving toddler. I’ve heard that condescending tone more from him than any other.
“I was in a coma,” I remind him. “You’re my brother.”
“I was in touch with the doctors. They told me you’d be okay.”
I rub my temples, frustrated. “Why do you always have to be right? Every fucking time, you have to be the right one and I have to be the wrong one.”
He throws his hands up. “Maybe because I make the right choices and you make the wrong ones?”
My jaw tenses. “I made it to the NHL. I volunteer at the Austin Children’s Hospital. But according to you, I’m a lazy prick who never practiced enough and I volunteer because my team PR people make me.”
“Both true.”
I lean forward, feeling Graysen’s warmth beside me. “Bullshit. I didn’t have to practice as much as you. I still don’t. I caught on faster and had more natural talent.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t work hard,” he scoffs.
“I worked my ass off. But because you had to work harder, you dismiss everything I’ve done, everything I’ve earned.”
Anton gives Graysen a questioning look. “Is this what we’re here to talk about?”
“Yes.”
He shifts in his seat. “What am I supposed to say? Am I here to accept some sort of responsibility for his drinking?”
“Just listen,” she says gently. “Listen and don’t argue with what he’s saying.”
She turns to me and I see something in her eyes that I feel down to my bones. Having her beside me makes me feel stronger, more accepting of myself.
“You’ve never thought I was as good as you,” I say bitterly. “Our parents sent us away and you became the golden boy and I became the fuck up.”
Anton just looks at me in silence.
“How does that feel, Alexei?” Graysen asks softly.
I sigh heavily. “It feels…like I’m never enough. No one thinks I’m enough.”
Except her, but I don’t say that.
Anton closes his eyes and exhales hard, opening them a few seconds later.
“I never feel like enough, either.”
I lower my brows, skeptical. “You?”
“Why do you think I work so hard? All my life I’ve been trying to feel like enough.”
When I look at my brother sitting across from me, I see the boy he was—first one at the rink, always volunteering to help the Carrs, straight-A student…and I get it. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.
My throat tightens. “You’re more than enough, Anton.”
He nods, tears shining in his eyes. “So are you. And if I’ve made you feel any other way…I’m sorry. It’s not what I meant to do.”
“You’re my family,” I say, choking up. “The only family I’ve got.”
Anton shakes his head, leaning forward in his chair. “I know you think that, but Martin and Laura are your family, too. They love us like we’re their own.”
“We’re not theirs, though.”
