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His words slip under my skin, rub against my insecurity, my guilt, and my pride. They burn away the final veneer of civility I was clinging to.
“You’ve always been good at turning a challenge into an opportunity. It shouldn’t surprise me that you’re doing it now,” I sneer.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Hayes’ eyes narrow.
I mimic his expression and bring the phone closer to my face. “You just dropped the mother of all bombs on me. Yet, the first thing on your mind is Regan and me?”
His anger erupts. “Of course, it’s been on my mind. You’re my brother. I want what’s best for you, and another man’s wife isn’t it. This isn’t an opportunity, Stone. It’s a fucking tragedy, and I’m just trying to stem the bleeding.”
“And you think asking me to subvert my happiness for the greater good of a family that has deceived you your whole life is what’s best for me?”
He winces, and color blooms on his cheeks, and he drops his gaze from mine.
“Exactly.” I take no joy in being right.
“Stone, that’s not fair.”
“What is?” I bark, and he closes his eyes in a bid to find his calm.
He sighs and runs a weary hand over his face. “I know you like her. She’s beautiful and smart, I get it. But you have no idea the hornets’ nest you’ll be kicking, if you don’t let it be. Please.” There’s that word again.
I walk back to my room and stare at my bed. I should lie down and close my eyes and just, for once, say fuck it.
But the sun has started to rise, and it’s too late to indulge in the confessional of sleep. Self-indulgence will have to wait until the moon comes back. Someone’s life depends on me showing up. Even on days when my own life feels like it’s up for grabs.
I turn my back on temptation and my ire on my brother. “Beautiful and smart are tame words to describe what she is. And I don’t like her, I love her. And I know I owe you a lot, but that you’d call me to remind me of it, pisses me off.”
Hayes blinks in surprise “Love her? You don’t even know her.”
“I know her better than I’ve ever known anyone.” And, saying it out loud, I realize how true it is.
Hayes gapes at me. “What the hell did I miss?”
I laugh, but it’s bitter and short. “My formative years.”
He looks like I punched him. “Stone—”
“I have to go. I’ve got more patients to see than I have hours in a day.”
“Wait,” he barks.
“Can’t. But feel free to continue worrying about who I’m fucking. And I hope you and Remi have an awesome reunion with your dad,” I expel the last word like a curse propelled by anger and jealousy.
I wish both of my dads would come back from the dead.
Yeah, and people in hell wish they had ice water.
Nobody cares.
I hear him call my name, right as I hang up.
“Buenos noches,” I call over my shoulder to the guard at the front of the refugee camp, and then jog over to the white van that’s waiting to take me back to my apartment. This is my last week here, and I feel guilty at how glad I am of that.
The conditions here are bleak. This refugee crisis is the worst of its kind in our hemisphere. But for the news coverage it receives, you’d be hard pressed to even know it’s happening.
But teams like mine, from all over the world, have come to help serve the people who are caught in the crossfire of political stagecraft. It’s easy to feel a sense of helplessness, because there’s no hope in sight for an end to the problem.
I climb aboard the van, and before I can buckle up, we’re off. It’s dark in the van, and everyone else is asleep. I pull out my phone and scroll to my favorite torture devices.
