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He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Rory. Sometimes I knew it was you, I just couldn’t—” He lets out a wobbly breath. “I hate that you have to see me like this.”
“It’s okay—” I start, but he looks away for a moment and pulls on his hand. I let it go, and he takes mine again, twining my fingers with his as he looks around at the beautiful place we’re in.
A place of hope, peace, and love.
“It’s not okay, Rory,” he counters and looks back at me, broken and hurting, yet I can’t help him. I can’t take away the clarity of what he’s become. “Doesn’t it hurt you every time you see me? It hurts me, hurts me so badly, knowing in those rare moments I have through the fog that I can’t be there for you, can’t be the man you need, can’t give you a family… That you’re suffering because of me, that I hurt you, insult you, and push you away time and time again. And through all of that, you haven’t abandoned me. You still come back.”
“It’s worth it, though it’s not easy,” I reply. “But it’s worth it to see you, the real you, even for a moment. I beg every night for it. Every time I wake up, I pray to a god I don’t believe in that it will be you, even for a second.”
“Then stop praying, stop coming. I shouldn’t hurt you, Rory. I’m tired of hurting you,” he implores. “You stopped your life to look after me. I know how much you suffered, all the times you had to do things to feed my habit, to pay the bills when you got me clean.”
“You did the same,” I interject, holding his hand harder, holding him to me when it feels like he’s slipping away again. “You gave up your life to look after me, to raise me.” Tears roll down my cheeks and across my lips, and I taste the saltiness when I open my mouth again, needing him to know it’s okay. That I see everything he did for me. That I love him, the real him, and that he’s more than his addiction. “When Mom and Dad died, you were all I had. You were just a kid, Mitchy, yet you gave up your life for me.”
“I would do it again,” he states solemnly and looks at me intensely before brushing my tears away like he did that night. “I would do anything for you, you’re my baby sister.”
“And you’re my big brother,” I sob, my chest cracking with the force as I try to hold it back. All those years, and right here, right now, he’s back. I know it won’t last, and that hurts the most. We’re on borrowed time, both of us know that. Each second is another one closer to me looking into the eyes of a stranger within my brother again.
He holds my hand tighter and turns to face me. “Listen to me, munchkin, hear what I’m saying. I don’t regret one moment of it. I would do it again, even if I knew this is how it would end, because I got to see you grow. I got to see the incredible woman sitting before me. Mom and Dad would be so proud of you, Rory. Of how you turned out despite everything. How kind, intelligent, caring, and selfless you are. I’m so proud of you.”
I watch him through the watery haze of tears as he leans in and presses his forehead against mine, our tears mingling. Years of pain radiates between us as all the things we wished we could say to each other fill that small space where our breaths mix. “You think?” I ask quietly.
“I know it,” he replies firmly as my lips tremble, eyes burn, and nose clogs from the force of my crying.
“It’s time to let go, munchkin, it’s time to say goodbye,” he whispers.
“No! It’s okay—”
“No, it’s not.” He shakes his head. “You can’t keep waiting on me when I’m already gone. This won’t last, we know that. I can’t keep hurting you, Rory. I can’t. It’s my job to protect you, so let me do it one last time. Walk away, leave me here. I’ll be okay, I’ll be happy, and that’s all I want for you. For you to be happy.” He lifts his head and looks at my men, who are watching me. “And you’re clearly with whoever they are.”
“I love them,” I sob, my heart aching at knowing what’s to come.
“Good. They seem like good men. Tell them I might have lost my mind, but if they ever hurt you, I’ll kill them,” he teases, and I can’t help but cry harder, smiling through the tears.
He holds my cheeks and looks into my eyes. “It’s time, munchkin. Let me go, let our family go, and be happy with your new one. No more half in, half out, waiting in the wings for a single second of seeing me, even when it’s a hundred seconds of pain. I’m telling you as your big brother, it’s okay to stop, to leave, to walk away. I want you to. I’m already gone, munchkin, so stop holding onto a memory.”
“But…I love you,” I whimper, the words choked.
“I love you too, Rory, so much. Always have, always will, even when there’s nothing of the real me left,” he vows and kisses my forehead. The feeling is warm and comforting, even as his tears drip onto my face. “I made my own path. I have to walk in the shadows I brought on to myself. It’s time for you to walk yours.”
“I don’t think I’m strong enough,” I whisper.
His arm wraps around me, holding me in his warmth one last time. I know this is goodbye, I can feel it, even if I’m not ready to let go. It’s in the air, filling each shallow breath I take as the clock counts down. Maybe our time has always been waning, since the first needle he stuck into his body. “You’re the strongest person I know, munchkin, you can do anything, you always could. But when it gets too dark, too scary, remember I’m right there with you, hiding under the bed.”
“Five more minutes,” I beg, prolonging the inevitable.
“Five more minutes, then you need to leave, Rory,” he concedes, ordering me around like he did when we were kids, and that breaks me more than anything else. He might have these moments of lucidity, but they are few and far between and getting less frequent. It kills me to know he will die here alone, that there is nothing I can do to save him. No matter how strong, how smart, or even how rich you are, you can’t cheat death. All you can do is live your life to the fullest, and when it’s your time, hope that you have no regrets.
Here, under the sun, he holds me like he will never let go. His tears wet my hair and dress as I embrace him, sobbing. I’m breaking apart because he’s right—it’s final, this is the last time. He’s tired of hurting me, and I’m tired of hurting him. Together, we are nothing but toxic, and I don’t want that and neither does he. So even though it feels wrong, even though it hurts so much, I know it’s for the best.
It doesn’t make it easier, though, as the winter sun warms us to the point of being uncomfortable before he finally pulls away. I try to hold on, to keep him with me, but he frees himself and grabs both of my hands, closing his eyes for a moment before they open and run over me, as if memorizing me one last time. Committing me to his failing memory.
“Go.”
“No, one more minute,” I beg, knowing I’ll ask for another, and another, until those sixty seconds, those minutes, add up to a lifetime with him.
“You’re never guaranteed another minute of your life, Rory, another moment. Don’t waste it here with me, please, munchkin. Go.” He pushes me then, and I stand, wrapping my arms around myself as I stare at my brother. At the man who saved me, who raised me.
“Do this one last thing for me.” He smiles through his tears. “Be happy so I can be okay.” I nod, curling my lips inward to hold back my sobs. “Don’t look back, munchkin.”
