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When Eric looked at Jamie this time, his brother was staring at him. No smirk on his lips, no irritation in his eyes. Eric flushed and shifted a little farther away, but Jamie held his gaze.
“Mom and Dad would talk about you over dinner sometimes,” Jamie said. “She didn’t want you to go away, but he said you needed to spread your wings. And he thought you’d learn things that would be good for the brewery in the long run. He wanted you there, Eric. Don’t doubt that.”
For a moment, Eric didn’t feel it. They were just words. Nothing more. But then his breath got stuck in his throat. He had to swallow in order to draw air in. “Yeah?” he managed to say.
“Yeah,” Jamie answered.
Had it been that simple? Michael Donovan had been trying to set him free, and Eric had only wanted to stay? God, how tragic was that?
He tried to clear the sorrow from his throat. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I needed you to be perfect,” he murmured. “It wasn’t what I wanted for you, Jamie.”
Jamie nodded, but now he was the one shifting from foot to foot as if he was uncomfortable. “It’s not all you. I felt…” Clearing his throat, he dropped his head and stared at his feet. His neck slowly turned red.
“Hey,” Eric said. “You okay?”
He shrugged, but didn’t look up.
“Jamie. What’s wrong?”
His shoulders rose on a deep breath. “I don’t know how to tell you this. I felt… Jesus. You were so perfect and I felt like the most worthless piece of shit in the world, and I fucking hated you because of it.”
“Whoa. What the hell are you—?”
“The accident,” Jamie cut in. “It was my fault.”
“The car accident?” Eric asked, his mind reeling. “Jamie, you weren’t even there.”
When Jamie looked up, there were tears in his eyes. Tears. And that scared Eric more than anything had in the past thirteen years. Jamie hadn’t even cried at the funeral.
Eric started to reach for his shoulder, but Jamie took a step back. “They were coming to pick me up, because I was drunk. I drove my friends to a party and even though I knew I was supposed to drive them home, I got drunk. I didn’t know what to do. My friends needed to get home. So I called Mom.”
Eric’s jaw had dropped. He couldn’t think, much less speak.
“They were at home. They wouldn’t have even been in the car, much less on that road, except that I’d fucked up and they had to come bail me out.” He swiped an angry hand over his eyes even though no tears had fallen. “It was my fault.”
“Jamie,” Eric breathed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Does Tessa know?”
Jamie shook his head. “I’ve never told anyone but Olivia. I didn’t want anyone to know. Especially not you or Tessa. I killed our parents, Eric.”
Eric grabbed both his shoulders before he could back away. “You did not.”
Jamie laughed and wiped his eyes again. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve the brewery or the name or the family.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eric cursed, giving him a little shake before he pulled him in for a hug. Jamie’s body was stiff with tension, but Eric just hugged him harder. How the hell had Jamie lived with that? “You were just a fucking kid, Jamie. You should have told me.”
He shook his head, and Eric felt Jamie’s back shudder beneath his hands. His own eyes burned with grief. “You should have told me,” he repeated, his voice cracking.
“I couldn’t,” Jamie rasped.
“It wasn’t your fault. Don’t say it again. Ever. It was an accident, d
amn it. If they’d been on their way to pick Tessa up from school, would you blame her?”
“It’s not the same.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Eric ordered.
Jamie shoved him away, his mouth twisted halfway between a grimace and a pained laugh. “Stop telling me what to do. I didn’t even want to tell you. Ever. But Olivia said we’d never have peace if we didn’t talk.”
