“You want that, don’t you? To feel helpless and at my mercy?”
I think I definitely need the release at the moment, yes.
“Am I laying the suggestion on too thick?” he murmurs.
Vehemently, I shake my head. “Nope.” I clear my throat. “I very much prefer whatever you’re doing over the other feelings I probably should deal with but would much rather shove under these new ones.”
He smiles. “It will be okay. Yourbetterfamily is here for you. And why wouldn’t we be? You make incredible sandwiches for the stupid slugs who can’t even find it in themselves to revel in your glorious breakfasts. He issomy least favorite brother for this.”
A broken laugh escapes me. “My family.”
“That’s right. Yours.”
Mine. A family that treats me likefamilyand leaves me little thank-you notes instead of telling me how wrong or insufficient my efforts always are.
My very ownfamily.
It still hurts to know that the family that was meant to be mine never really adopted me, but it’s a little easier knowing I don’t have to face them alone.
It still hurts, and maybe it always will, but I am not alone.
And I will not need to face the pain by myself ever again.
