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I followed his lead. The initial sip was strong at first. My throat burned, but then I tasted the sweetness. My limbs started to warm.

I flinched when I heard my phone vibrate through my purse. I peeked inside the bag to see who it was.

Garrett had sent a text.

Stop worrying. I had a great day. I’ll call you soon.

It was the first time I had heard from my brother since the call yesterday. I tucked the bag in the corner of the booth.

“Something wrong?” Vaughn pried.

I shook my head, but suddenly changed my mind. “Actually, yes.”

“What’s going on?” It was a simple gesture, but his hand slid to my knee and closed over my leg. There was more heat in his touch.

“Remember when you called last night and I wasn’t quite myself?”

“Yes. I was worried about you.”

I looked at the brim of the glass as my finger made a circle around it. “It was because of my brother.”

“Is he ok?” Vaughn’s brow furrowed together.

“It’s just if I tell you, I’m worried you’ll think differently about me.”

“Why would I do that? It’s about your brother.”

“Because it’s not the kind of thing you talk about with someone you’re casually seeing.” Shit. I didn’t mean to drop our status into the middle of this. “It’s not that—I—”

His fingers dug into my thigh. “Emily, I’m not going to change my mind about you.”

My chest seized. It was the way he looked at me with those piercing eyes. Or how his gaze drifted to my lips. Or how with his hand on my leg I felt almost as connected to him as I did in bed.

“He, u

mm, he … Garrett has bipolar disorder.” I waited for Vaughn’s expression to change, but it didn’t. “And right now he’s going off his meds voluntarily. It’s one of his protests. He moved out without talking to my mother and is trying to be part of a start-up business at the beach.”

“Doesn’t sound like a good situation for anyone.”

“It’s not. My mom has tried. I’ve tried.” I looked at Vaughn. “We’re twins. Garrett and I are twins. And it makes me feel like I should be able to help more—do more for him than anyone else.”

“You know that’s not actually true? As his sister, you’re the same as everyone else in this puzzle. Did he just call or text or something?”

I nodded. “He did. It’s been over twenty-four hours since I last heard from him. I think he’s fine for now. Until he hits one of his peaks and crashes. He can’t just go cold turkey off the medication like this.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“I used to feel so bad for him. I used to worry about how he felt. How hard it was for him to go up and down all the time. What his body had to go through just so he could function. And then somewhere along the way I stopped feeling so bad for him and started getting angry at him. And I think that’s what eats away at me the most. I’m a terrible sister.”

“For not wanting to be jerked around by someone else? That doesn’t make you terrible. That makes you human.”

I sniffed. “And consumed with enough guilt to fill this bar.”

“I have brothers and sisters.”

“You do?” I asked.

“There are five of us total. I’m in the middle. And although I’ve never had to deal with mental health problems with them, there have been other things. Families deal with shit. And what I do, what they do—it’s unrelated. I’m not responsible for their lives and they sure as hell aren’t responsible for mine.”

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