Page 65 of The Better Brother


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Andrea tried to convince me to call him. By the time we opened the second bottle of wine, she was convinced that my love for Michael was real. She pushed me to forgive him, saying that it would only make me happier if I did. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to make the phone call. As much as I still cared about him, I wasn’t ready to face him yet. I didn’t know if I would ever be ready.

“Good morning,” Andrea mumbled when she saw that I was awake. “I need water.”

“On it.” I slowly got to my feet and grabbed two water bottles out of my fridge. I tossed one to Andrea. She groaned as she opened it and took a long sip.

“I hate hangovers,” Andrea said.

“This isn’t so bad,” I said with a shrug. “I’ve had worse.”

My mind returned to thoughts of Michael. I remembered waking up beside him after his company Christmas party. My head was resting on his chest and, even though it was pounding from the alcohol, I had never felt more comfortable. Just being with Michael used to be enough, but now, I wasn’t sure.

“How are you feeling about everything?” Andrea asked. She sat up slowly with another groan.

I shrugged. “I’m fine, I guess.”

“Have you thought any more about calling him?” she asked.

I shook my head and turned away. Today was going to be a long day. My parents were expecting me at their place by lunch.

“Just think about it,” Andrea said. “I won’t push you anymore.”

“Thank you.” I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Are you heading home soon?” Andrea asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “My parents want me there for lunch. You?”

“I’ll see mine on Christmas morning,” Andrea said. “But I have to get back to Dallas for work. My shift starts in like two hours.”

“Damn.” I laughed. “Have fun with that.”

“Yeah, fuck you.” Andrea groaned again, but it quickly turned into a laugh.

It took us a while to get moving, but soon, we were both heading out the door. Andrea walked to her car with a giant cup of coffee in her hand. I waved goodbye and climbed into my car, happy to be alone for the short drive back to my parents’ house.

As much as Andrea helped the night before, I needed time to myself. It was hard to wrap my head around everything that had happened between me, Michael, and Joshua. Accepting that they were brothers was hard enough, but finding out that Michael had been lying all this time felt impossible. Even after two days, I still couldn’t make sense of it.

Luckily, I didn’t have long to dwell. When I pulled into my parents’ driveway, my sister ran outside to greet me. Layla was on her hip, bouncing around happily and waving her arms at me.

“Hey,” I said as I hurried over to them.

Bethany pulled me in for a tight hug while Layla played with my hair. I kissed my niece on the cheek before turning my attention to Bethany. She was watching me closely, a slight frown on her face.

“What’s the matter?” she asked immediately.

“Don’t.” I shot her a warning look as our mom and dad stepped outside. “Not now.”

Bethany nodded and stood aside while I said hello to our parents. They both hugged me and quickly ushered me inside. My dad took my suitcase upstairs to my old bedroom. I’d be staying for a couple of days, although I wasn’t sure that was the best idea.

Despite how excited I was to spend Christmas with my little niece, I didn’t know how well I’d be able to hold myself together. Michael stayed in the back of my mind throughout the entire day.

We ate lunch together as a family, laughing and catching up on life. Bryan wasn’t there yet, though he would be arriving later that night. He and Bethany agreed to spend Christmas with our parents this year because his parents lived out of town. Everything was nice. Normal. Calm. I tried to feel comfortable, but I couldn’t stop my emotions from creeping up on me.

While my mom cleared all the dishes, I just sat at the table and stared down at my hands. Bethany was watching me from the living room. She had Layla on her chest, rocking her slowly to sleep, but her eyes never left my face. I could feel her gaze the entire time.

Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. I pushed away from the table, mumbled some excuse about being tired, and ran upstairs. I felt like a teenager again as I pulled my door closed behind me and fell onto my old bed. My head hit the pillow, and immediately, fresh tears sprung into my eyes.

I was getting impatient with myself. All this crying was pathetic. Not only was Michael not worth it, but I refused to be the kind of girl who fell apart every time a relationship didn’t work out.

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