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We both laughed. I wrapped my arms around her. So this was what it felt like to have a true friend.
Chapter Eighteen
Jack
Fifteen minutes early—for once—I knocked on Alex’s door.
I’d invited myself over for dinner, which Alex was more than happy to accommodate. Closing the bar a few nights a week had its advantages. I had an agenda, of course. I needed to hear it from him. My suspicions weren’t enough. I wanted to hear him say he was in love with her. The door opened and Alex stood there looking like quite the housewife in his red apron. I chuckled.
“What? I don’t want pasta sauce all over my clothes.”
I followed him into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Alex had a nice place. It was very open and uncluttered. His taste in furniture was very classy and modern. I walked over to the two matching leather armchairs that faced the television and slumped down.
“It’s almost ready.” Alex handed me the remote as he sat down and popped open his beer. Turning on the TV, I ran through the stations until I found something to watch. Old episodes of Community.
We ate dinner in front of the TV, laughing at the show. I kept waiting for the right time to broach the subject. But was there ever really a ‘right’ time to ask your brother if he was in love with the same girl you are? I placed my empty plate on the glass coffee table with more gusto than intended.
“Geez, watch it,” Alex complained.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it. Damn. This was harder than I thought it would be. I took a deep breath.
“Alex, are you in love with Rose?” Typical Jack, straight to the point. Alex quietly set his plate on top of mine. He turned to me, his expression pained.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because I think that you are.”
Alex shook his head. “I’m not in love with her. I care about her a lot. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened between us if you hadn’t have come along…” His voice trailed off.
“So you could fall in love with her,” I clarified. This news didn’t make me feel any better.
“It doesn’t matter, Jack. She’s in love with you, and you’re in love with her. And I’m not in love with anyone.”
“But—.”
“No, there is nothing else to say. I love her like a friend. I don’t want to see her hurt, just like I don’t want to see you hurt. If I sometimes seem too emotionally invested in your relationship, it’s because I so badly want to see you both happy.”
“I can’t do it.” I growled suddenly.
Alex looked at me in surprise.
"I can’t go through that again, Alex. I'm so scared of losing her. Losing her now would break my heart, but letting her in and then losing her . . . what if she tries to kill herself again? Then what? I can’t do this to myself."
"I don't know, Jack. What happened with Belle was horrible, but you can’t keep that from letting you experience love again. What if you lost her without telling her how you feel? What’s worse? To love and lose, or to lose without love? The pain will still be there, regardless." Alex's words sliced through me like a scalpel, leaving a deep open wound.
We both sat there, the silence engulfing us. When did life get so fucked up? The question made me laugh. When wasn't my life fucked up was a more appropriate question. Alex glanced at me curiously.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. Just thinking about how fucked up my life is. And how it all stems back to one person."
"Mom?" Alex guessed.
I nodded. "I don't think I ever dealt with her abandoning us. And even Dad—that wound feels raw, like all I've done is covered it up. Hid it away." I looked at him, wondering if I was making any sense at all.
"I know. When I left London for here, I don't think I'd worked through any of the issues with Dad. In a sense, I suppose all I did was run away."
