It’s caused permanent damage not only to their relationship, but to the one that we all share. With Wes’ birthday coming up in a couple of months, Mom’s tasked me with convincing him to attend the party she’s hoping to throw, which I can’t see happening. Not as long as Dad will be there.
They’re both too stubborn, and where Wes is concerned, there’s also years of built-up hurt to work through.
“Don’t take his side right now, Elle.”
“I’m not. You know that.”
He blows out a rough breath. “I’m not going to change my mind. When he makes a real effort to change his opinion on what I do, then we can talk. Until then, I’m going to keep him out of my life.”
“Okay, I’ll let Mom know. It’s still a while away. Maybe he’ll realize the errors of his ways by then,” I say, fully aware of how naïve I sound.
It’s been over ten years of this. There isn’t any magic fix.
“Right. Maybe at the same time he starts listening to his doctor’s warnings and cuts the salt from his diet.”
“Mom’s been working on that.”
“We both know he’s sneaking extra behind her back.”
“Do you have anything else you want to talk about it, or can I hang up now?”
“What are you doing that is more important than talking to your brother?”
“Where do I begin? That’s a very long list,” I mutter, only half-joking.
He chuckles. “Let me guess, you’re at the café again. Considering it’s . . . twelve thirty, you’re probably staring at everyone eating lunch around you and debating whether that’s a normal thing to do.”
“Which it is, by the way. It’s perfectly natural to people-watch.”
“Not the way you do.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re wrong. I’m just curious.”
“Right. Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Try not to get arrested for stalking, yeah?”
“We both know that if I chose to stalk someone, I wouldn’t ever be caught.”
“You’re getting scarier by the day.”
I hold my phone between my ear and shoulder while closing my sketchbook. “Hardly. You’re just more sensitive to this sort of thing than you used to be.”
“Whatever, Elle. Call me later.”
“With such warm words, I’ll make sure to do just that, Big Bro.”
His huff couldn’t possibly sound more annoyed. “Goodbye.”
I hang up before he can and stand from the table. With one sweep of my hand, the sketchbook and fancy pencil tumble inside my purse. The cup left on the table is a Frappuccino wasteland. I frown at the melted contents before tossing it into the garbage and shrugging my purse strap up my arm.
The barista waves at me from behind the counter, and I return the gesture. I’m pretty sure her name is Callie, or something close enough to it. She’s sweet but a bit much when it comes to pushing you into trying her favourite items on themenu. I prefer speaking to the owner, Quinn, but she’s always running around the joint like her feet might turn to flames if she takes a break.
Not wanting to linger in the middle of the walkway long enough to get called out for it, I head out. While sketching may not be working for me right now, I know one thing that will.
I adjust the ring light on my desk and check the angle of my camera. Once they’re perfect, I take a final look at myself in the tall mirror leaning against the wall across my bedroom.
The lingerie I swapped my skirt and blouse for when I got home stands out against my pale skin. I’ve gone weeks without a spray tan, so my hot pink demi bra and matching panties look even brighter as I pop a hip and cock my head. Truly, nobody who’s going to be watching my video will care much about what I’m wearing for long, but this is my favourite part.
When I get to dress up in fancy lingerie and watch myself transform from the regular Brielle into the woman I become at night when I log in to After Hours, an adult-only content platform. I tug on a deep red curl and watch it lose some of its shape. My viewers will never see my hair, but that doesn’t stop me from spending an hour teasing and curling it before every session.
