“Have you told her about Mom?” she asks so suddenly I don’t have a chance to prepare myself. “Is that what this is actually about? Why she’s stepping back?”
I clear my throat, but it only tightens further.
“That’s what I thought. You haven’t told her any of the important details. How are you supposed to prove yourself to her if you don’t open up? I’ve wanted to tell her a thousand times already, but I didn’t want to take that from you once I knew you were involved.”
It’s a better assumption for her to have than the truth. That I broke Brielle’s trust in an incredibly personal way and am left floundering, trying to figure out just one fucking thing to do that could make up for it.
She isn’t even wrong about Lena, either. I haven’t shared the deepest parts of that story with Brielle. Those details have been buried so deep inside of me that just the prospect of dragging them back up makes me want to puke.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide them forever. What I said about marriage, a family, it was all true. We can’t have either without me baring every inch of my soul to her. Until she sees all of the broken parts and decides that I’m still worth keeping.
My face drops as I feel the weight of what’s to come start to press down.
“What are you afraid of?” Evie asks, her voice gentle now. “It’s been five years, Uncle. She’s not coming back.”
“You’re not supposed to be the one taking care of me. It needs to be the other way around.”
“According to who?”
I shut my eyes, feeling a prickle behind them. “It’s just how things should be. I’m the adult here.”
“You had her for longer than I did. Why do I need to be the only one who needs help?”
There’s a wobble in her voice. It’s raw, so, so fuckingraw.
I push away from the bar, needing to go. To find somewhere the walls aren’t closing in on me and the air isn’t so thin. I keep my phone pressed hard to my ear as I pick up the pace and slip down a hallway. There’s an abandoned housekeeping cart pushed against the wall and a storage closet with the door open. I bypass them both and turn the corner, finding it completely empty.
My back meets the wall. I knock my head against it and take a deep breath.
“I should—” My voice cracks. I try again. “She trusted you with me. To take care of you. Finish raising you. I never gave her any reason to do that. It’s a miracle she didn’t put it in the will to have me play no part in that.” My laugh is bitter. “We fought every time we saw each other that last year. I had seen her with your father so many times then, and I made it my mission to make sure she knew how much I hated the choices she’d been making. It wasn’t fair to you for her to be around him when you were old enough to know that he wasn’t going to stay. That he was never going to want to be a proper father.
“You were confused, hurt, angry. I watched you see them together, and fuck. Your eyes would fill with hope, like you sent prayers every night asking for it to be different that time. She knew I hated him, and I think that made her bring him around more than her simply never moving on from him did. That’s just . . . what we did. We pissed each other off for fun, like wewanted to see who’d lose their mind first so we’d have bragging rights. It was so pathetic. And then suddenly, there were no more competitions. I was just some immature man-child with a pathetic dating history, an embarrassingly short MLB career, and a sixteen-year-old girl that I was now the sole guardian of. No part of me believes that I deserved the gift she gave me, Evie. Not when I’d been so careless with the one I’d gotten when she was born. So, why do I get to mourn her more than you? Why should you have to take care of me, when the least I should be able to do is make sureyou’reokay?”
I press my knuckles to my lips and try to breathe through closed teeth. There’s silence all around me, taunting, punishing.
“Mom loved you. She loved you, and she loved me, and if it had been anyone else who had taken me in, I wouldn’t be who I am now. You can think that you don’t deserve to grieve, but you do. It’s what she would have wanted. Especially now. You’ve already taken care of me. I need to heal myself now, and you need to let Brielle help heal the parts of you that you’ve neglected for so long. You can’t stay locked up forever, or you’ll stay living half-broken.”
Sniffing, I choke on a laugh. “I didn’t teach you any of this.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you how different I am now than I was, Uncle. You just haven’t been listening.”
“You’re still my niece. Still Lena’s little girl, just with less gum in your hair and scraped knees.”
“I did that one time,” she says, a smile obvious in her tone.
“Once was enough. I had peanut butter under my fingernails for three days.”
She laughs softly, letting it taper off. “Can you promise me that even if it doesn’t work out with Brielle, you’ll at least be honest with her?”
“Will you still hold a grudge?”
“Maybe for a few days. But you can’t blame me! You know even better than I do how amazing she is. I don’t want to lose her.”
“Yes, I’ll do everything in my power to keep her, Evie. Even the things that terrify me.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me for that. Just . . . don’t go too far yet. Don’t stop letting me be here for you because I’m not ready to lose that yet.”
