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My cell phone rang and I immediately grabbed it in the hope she was calling me. Maybe she changed her mind and agreed to the terms. But I saw Cane’s name on the screen instead. He hadn’t called me since I arrived a week ago, and for my brother that was unusual. I took the call, probably because I was drunk. “What?”

“Hello to you too.”

“What?” I repeated.

“When are you coming home? We’ve got shit to do.”

“I don’t know…” I couldn’t leave without her, but I couldn’t stay in America much longer. Work required my attention back at home. I had a whole life of business waiting for me. But I couldn’t leave her behind when I didn’t know if she would be safe.

“What’s taking so long? You said you were going to get Pearl and come home.”

“She doesn’t want to come with me.” The sadness broke through my voice and I felt my chest ache. I must really be drunk if I was telling Cane this. I didn’t even like my brother most of the time. He was a childish and irrational human being.

Cane paused over the line, knowing the conversation was much more serious than he anticipated. “What do you mean, man?”

“She said she doesn’t want to come with me. She’s done with me.”

“I don’t believe that,” he said calmly. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

The liquor took the lead and I started rambling. “She’ll only come back with me if I tell her I love her.”

“Then just tell her,” he snapped. “Problem solved.”

“But I don’t love her, Cane. You know that.”

“Bullshit.” His anger rose over the phone, reaching powerful volumes against my ear. “I’ve known you my entire life and I’ve never—not once—have you seen act this with another woman. You don’t just love this woman. You’re head-over-heels, pathetically and stupidly, slit your own throat in love with her. Don’t lie to me and act like that isn’t true.”

I dragged my hand across my face, feeling the frustration burn deep inside my chest. “Cane, I don’t.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why won’t you just admit it? If you’re afraid to look like a pussy, you already look like a pussy by lying about it.”

“Shut the hell up, Cane.”

“No. I’m being serious.”

“Fuck off.”

“This is what it comes down to, Crow.” He would normally fly off the handle when I insulted him, so the fact he was staying so calm was a testament to his belief in this. “She’s not like all the other women we’ve met in our lives. She’s got a spine of steel and a mouth that rivals our own. I beat the shit out of her and she survived. No one else would have handled that but her.”

“Cane…you’re just pissing me off.” Talking about that terrible night when he nearly killed her wasn’t a good way to convince me to do anything.

“My point is, she’s special. You’re seriously going to let her go because of your pride…or whatever the hell it is?”

“It’s not about pride.”

“Then what is it?”

I didn’t want to talk about this with Cane. I didn’t want to talk about this with anyone. “Just drop it.”

“No. We’re doing this. We’re gonna have girly, pussy talk until we get this figured out. Because you’re my brother and I’m not letting fuck up the best thing that ever happened to you.”

I downed the rest of my glass to cure the migraine that formed out of nowhere.

“Now what is it?” he repeated. “What is it, Crow?”

“I just can’t love anyone. It’s that simple. That feeling people are always talking about when they meet their husband or wife…I’m incapable of that. After Vanessa died…that was it. I loved her with everything I had and like everyone else, she died. I’ve lost enough people and I’m fucking tired of it. She’ll just be another name on the list.”

Cane was quiet. He didn’t speak, which was unusual for him. Normally, he ran his mouth until someone told him to shut up.

“So I’m not going down that road again. I’m not going to feel anything for Pearl besides fondness. I think she’s beautiful and I love being around her, but that’s as far as my affection goes. I’m not going to lie to her and tell her I’m going to feel that someday when I never will—no matter how badly I want her.”

He sighed into the phone. “Look, I get it. You’re scared to lose her. With the shit we go through every day, I understand. But I don’t think losing her is the right decision either.”

“There is no other decision. She wants more and I’m not giving it to her.”

“So, you’re prepared to come back and forget about her? Isn’t that the exact thing you’re scared of? Losing her?”

No. They were completely different. If she died I would be heartbroken. But if I loved her…I would be shattered. I couldn’t let myself get to that point. If I gave myself entirely to her I would be screwed in the end. They weren’t the same—not the least. “No. And I’m done talking about this.”

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