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But I don't want to.
I don't want him to go.
I want him here. I want the comfort of his arms around me. I want to spill all the messy details until someone understands.
No, until Ethan understands.
He pushes the bathroom door open. His eye corners turn down. His expression fills with concern.
"Vi." He pulls the shower door open and steps inside. Water pounds his head and chest, soaking his t-shirt. He kneels next to me.
"You should go," I whisper.
He pulls me into his arms.
"You're getting wet."
"I like getting wet with you." He cups the back of my head with his hand.
I rest my head on his chest. "I don't want you to go."
"I know." He runs his fingers through my wet hair an
d pulls me closer. "Asher?"
I nod. "I… I found him in the bathtub. He'd slit his wrists. There was all this blood. I didn't know the human body had that much blood." Tears roll down my cheeks. "I should have known he was hurting like that… I was supposed to protect him."
"It's okay, Vi." He wipes the tears from my cheeks. "You couldn't have stopped him."
I shake my head. "I should have known he was hurting. He was always so exhausted. He was always talking about how he didn't know how he'd keep up his practice schedule. I should have done something."
He pulls me closer.
"I was supposed to protect him."
"I know it hurts, honey. I know it feels like it was your fault, but it wasn't. He was an adult. He knew he could give up piano. He was a smart guy. He had options. Your parents would have supported him. And I know you'd have helped him too. You'd have done anything for Asher." His blue eyes fill with understanding. "I know it doesn't help, me telling you it wasn't your fault. But it wasn't, Vi. You were a good sister."
I shake my head. "I got so jealous of him. He had all of Mom and Dad's attention. Since I was fourteen. They tried to keep things even, they tried to keep up the family events, they tried to include me in all of Asher's piano stuff, but he always ended up with more attention. He always needed something— a ride to his piano lessons, time for his recitals, someone to calm him down when he worked himself into a tizzy. I knew he was troubled and that I shouldn't have been jealous, but I was. I was jealous of his abilities too. I never could get the hang of piano. I was never as good at anything as he was at playing the piano."
He runs his fingers through my hair.
"I hated him as much as I loved him. He must have known. He didn't trust me… that's why he didn't tell me."
"Everybody hates their siblings sometimes. Fuck, I hate Mal all the time." Ethan intertwines his fingers with mine. "I know it hurts. I know there's nothing I can say to make it hurt less. But it wasn't your fault that Asher killed himself. You don't have to throw yourself on his funeral pyre. You deserve to be happy again. You deserve to have fun."
The words are convincing on his lips. I want to believe it. God how I want to believe it.
"It's gonna be okay, honey. I know it doesn't feel like that now, but one day it's gonna hurt less."
"How do you know?"
"I know every inch of you. You're strong enough to survive anything." He presses his lips to my forehead and he wraps his arms around me.
We sit there in that shower, water pounding against our heads and shoulders. He holds me until I haven't got a single tear left.
With Ethan's arms around me, I really do feel like I'm strong enough.
I really do believe it will hurt less tomorrow.
