Page 118 of A Silence So Divine

One swift punch is delivered to my mouth.

The sunlight fractures into fireworks behind my eyes. The pain takes me by surprise. A dull ache rattles through my skull, and the tang of blood caresses my tongue.

The hit stuns me enough that I don’t fight back. Eyes wide, I look up at my brother. His arm is cocked back like he might hit me again, but his own brows raise in shock of what he’s done.

I surprise myself when I let loose a bark of laughter.

Lips stretched over bloody teeth, my smile only grows the more alarmed my brother appears. Warmth trickles from the corner of my mouth, and I’m vaguely aware of how deranged I must look.

Expression twisted in concern, he scrambles off of me, plopping onto the dry patch of dirt. A dust cloud rises around him.

“You’re bleeding,” he informs me, eyes darting between my face and his own hand. One of his knuckles is split, crimson seeping from the crack.

I laugh again, pushing myself into a sitting position. Of course I’m bleeding, I can taste it. This time when I spit, I aim it away from him. Red swirls atop the parched Earth.

He eyes me cautiously as I gather my bearings. With the back of my wrist, I wipe at my mouth.

“I haven’t been hit like that since I was a kid,”I inform him. Amusement still twinkling in my eyes, I glance at my brother. His face is made of stone, his shoulders rigid.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology is so sincere, so full of regret, that it steals all the wind from my sails. My grin falters.“I’m fine.”

“No. I’m sorry for… the other times.”His eyes bore into mine. I raise a shoulder in nonchalance.

“That wasn’t you.”

“I didn’t stop him.”

“You did.”

“Not soon enough.”

I break eye contact, unable to stomach the pain staring back at me. The conversation has shifted so quickly that I struggle to get a grip on what emotion I should be feeling.

Over the years, we’ve had a handful of conversations about our father; none of which included his ever growing temper or violent tendencies. It was a skeleton in the closet—something too ugly to speak of.

Cecil got me out, and that’s what matters.

My anger from mere minutes ago fizzles out, leaving me with a pit in my stomach and a sadness in my bones.

“I don’t want to be like him,”Cecil admits, eyes to the horizon. The light floods his iris, the deep green blooming into a vibrant emerald. So similar to our father, but mine are just the same.

I let out ahmph, smacking his shoulder.“You’re not.”

He shoots me a look of disbelief before reaching over and swiping at my chin. When he pulls his thumb back, it’s stained red. My eyes loll to the side.

Side by side, we float along our respective thoughts. The heat is intense, but dry, vanishing sweat from my skin now that I’m still. A pebble sits beside my knee and I take it between my fingers. Eyes unfocused, I swirl it along the dirt. Over and over, I etch rolling waves into the ground. My memory takes me back to that day at the beach. The lengths my brother had gone to ensure that I enjoyed my birthday.

He’s not selfish. Not really.

I turn my attention to him briefly, studying the hunch of his shoulders. The way he nibbles his cheek. The nervous shifting of his eyes. I’ve seen that same look since we were children, but less so as he aged.

More and more over the past few months, there’s a vulnerability to my brother that I thought was long forgotten.

Clarity comes like a splash of icy water, and I bump my shoulder into his.“You love her, don’t you?”

His head falls forward and he doesn’t meet my gaze. I dip my chin in an attempt to meet his eyes.