Page 107 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

An awkwardness hangs in the air as I step into the bedroom.

Jake doesn’t look at me at first. I don't know if it's because his attention is on the television or if he deliberately doesn't acknowledge me as she closes the door behind us.

Guilt rests heavily on my chest, telling me it's the latter. And I deserve it. When Adam called the first time to tell me Jake was in the hospital, I didn't answer the phone. I was down in my basement studio finishing the carvings, watching Chelsea's face come to life in my hands.

By the time I came out of it and returned the call, Adam was pissed and rightfully so. He told me everything that happened, and I rushed over here to see Jake.

He could have died.

Scaffolding collapse is no joke, and everything could have gone so wrong so quickly.

And it's all my fault. I wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to me again, but finally turns to regard me with a weak, loopy smile on his lips.

“Ha,” he says. “Look who finally deigns to visit.”

The guilt gains sharp talons, raking it across my conscience. I walk closer to him, pulling up a chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m not dead if that’s what you’re asking.”

I wince. “You could have died, though.”

“Pah.” He waves a hand in the air. “Chelsea and Adam worry too much. One of the beams just got me in the head, and I blacked out a little, but otherwise I’m good.” He doesn't look good. His ankle is wrapped up in bandages and looks swollen to about twice its size. His head is also bandaged, and his eyes look bloodshot. Purple bruises appear above the neckline of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” I finally force the words out of my mouth, even though they feel too mild, too cheap for what I did. "I should have been there."

"You should have," he says. "But I'm used to you slacking off all the time."

I wasn't slacking off. I had been carving and lost track of time. As usual. I squeeze my baseball cap in my hands. "If I had been there–"

"You would have been buried along with me." He gives me a wry look. "I hope you're not harboring any delusions of heroism here, imagining that you would have possibly managed to save both of us before it collapsed. We're not superheroes here." He snorts. "As a matter of fact, if you'd been in there with me, Iwouldn't have been able to find a good spot to hide and would have instead been crushed by the debrisandyour big fat ass.”

I know what he's trying to do. He's making light of the situation, so I don't feel guilty that I wasn't there to help or at least keep an eye out for him. Adam was on a warpath when he told me what happened, and he chewed me out rightfully for it, but Jake, of course, is more of a live-and-let-live kind of guy. He's never been the type to know when to hold a grudge, not with his mother, who treated him horribly growing up, not with James blaming him for something that wasn't his fault, and not with me.

I don't deserve him as a friend. Every day, that becomes more obvious. I've done nothing but take advantage of his kindness, and even when I try to push him away for his own good, he doesn't get angry and tell me to fuck off as a normal person would. Instead, he gives me my space and remains the kind, understanding bastard that he is.

"I don't even know what to say to you right now," I admit. "Just that I'm so fucking sorry."

“Stop saying that. It’s not like you caused the accident?” he says. "Unless you hired a hitman to somehow upend the beams and–”

“Not just for that,’ I say instantly. “For everything else. For avoiding you and treating you like shit for the past few weeks."

He’s quiet for a few beats, narrowing his eyes as he says, "So you have been avoiding me. I knew it, you fucker.”

I nod, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “What's that been about? Did I do something? Sleep with the love of your life.”

I know he only means it as a half-joke. He and James might not exactly have been the closest friends, but he did genuinelyfeel bad for what he had done to him, as well as the fact that it had pretty much tanked their friendship. He was traumatized for days after, apologizing, and James didn’t want to hear it. Still, Jake carried that guilt for some time, until I told him that it wasn't his fault and that James was being an asshole just looking for someone to blame.

Besides, I would never react the same. If I were in James' shoes, I don't think I’d ever minded him sleeping with Chelsea. I mean, we’ve already been doing it, and there’s no jealousy on my end. On the contrary, it feels like this is working out better than I thought it would. I was so worried that when we dated, I would not be able to give her what she deserves. Sometimes, like today, I get stuck in my head for hours and have to hole myself up and work through it. Sometimes I still don't get social cues and need them explained to me.

If it were just the two of us, I would be constantly scared that I would fuck up and accidentally break her heart.

But with the other two here, that’s less likely. They’ve known me for years. At this point, we’re like brothers. If I ever fuck up and hurt her unintentionally, they would kick my ass, hold me accountable, and tell me so I can make it better.

I don’t know if I'm the only one who saw how easy it could all be the last time we were together, how much we just fit. I saw it. I saw how this relationship works so well with all of us together.

I don't think the others have much jealousy either. Adam doesn't. Jake is complicated because of his past, but I’m sure it’s something he can work out. We can all be very happy together, participating outside of what most of society views as a legitimate relationship. I just need them to see it first.

“Tell me what I did,” Jake says.