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I shook my head, wishing I could explain to him the fear Charlie must’ve felt every time they thought about coming out to their family. “Look at the way you reacted when they told you. Charlie told me that your father was a very conservative man, but Charlie loved both of you, enough that they’d rather sacrifice their own happiness than lose you two. When your father died, they realized life was too short to keep hiding. But they didn’t want you to hate them for who they were, which is why they moved away. If you hadn’t seen that picture of them, things might have gone differently. But when you reacted the way you did, it only confirmed their fears that they’d been right to keep it all buried all these years.”
“How didn’t I know? And they were unhappy all these years because of it?”
I realized showing him would be easier than telling him, so I plugged in my earplugs and started looking through my phone’s gallery as I asked, “Do you have a picture of Charlie from when your dad was alive?”
He made an assenting sound, and I heard some shuffling around.
“Look at them carefully. Ignore the clothes, just look at their face and observe.” While he did that, I sent him a picture of Charlie where they were grinning at the camera, their baby blues shining bright with joy as they held Cherry in their arms, pressing a kiss against her muzzle. They were wearing a colorful silk wrap I’d found for them, their hair twined in a French braid across their temples.
“Now, look at this picture the same way. Ignore everything else. Focus on their face.” Laurence gasped, and I assumed he’d seen the picture. He was quiet for a few moments, and I gave him the time to gather himself.
When he spoke again, his voice was wobbly, all the earlier arrogance gone. “Thank you for calling me and helping me pull my head out of my ass. Can I come see my sibling? I have things I need to apologize for.”
“Of course. That is why I made the call, after all. I want them to wake up and know the people they love care about him. That includes you.” I shrugged as I got up. “But you do need to hurry if you want to be here.”
Lawrence agreed, and I gave him the address of the hospital. He promised to catch the earliest flight possible, and once I’d ended the call, I leaned back against the wall and sighed deeply. I’d done what I could to mend their differences; now it was up to Lawrence to apologize to Charlie for being a dick.
I hoped Charlie would wake up soon. A part of me prayed they were awake already, while another didn’t want them to wake up and not find me by their side.
22
Charlie
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound filtered through the fog in my brain, and I struggled to open my eyes. They felt like they’d been sewn shut. Everything hurt. Why did it feel like I’d been passed through a shredder? I tried to move my fingers, but they barely twitched.
God, what the hell happened to me? Where was I? And where was Brady?
The thought of Brady had me snapping my eyes open, and I immediately winced at the bright light that made me shut my eyes again. Shit. I tried to take a deep breath, but that hurt too. Gathering myself, I opened my eyes the tiniest bit and turned my head slightly so the light wasn’t piercing my eyes anymore. My head hurt too. Ugh.
The moment my eyes fell on Brady, though, I opened them fully so I could take him in. He was seated on a plastic chair beside the bed—I must be in the hospital, then. That explained the beeping. He was asleep with his head resting on the bed, facing me. I frowned at the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he had zero makeup on and his clothes looked like he’d been wearing them for days. He looked so tired. And it was all because of me, wasn’t it? One of his hands was curled around mine, and I gave it a squeeze, soaking up his wonderful warmth.
Brady’s head shot up off the bed, and he looked at me for a few moments before promptly bursting into tears. I tried to touch him, to comfort him in some way, but I couldn’t move, so I gripped his hand as tightly as I could as I waited him out.
“Oh my god, thank god you’re okay. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He mumbled the words again and again as he leaned up to press a kiss on my cheeks, my nose, any part of me he could reach.
“I love you, too,” I whispered hoarsely, my throat feeling like it had been scraped with sandpaper. I still couldn’t remember what had happened, but watching Brady’s reaction I knew it had been bad.
“You do?” Brady gasped as he settled back in his seat and I furrowed my brows. Why hadn’t I told him that before? What if something had happened to me? What if I’d died? Brady would’ve never known how I truly felt about him.
“Sorry. I should’ve told you. I love you. ’Course I do.” Each word was a struggle to get out of my cracked lips, but I needed Brady to know.
He nodded before leaning over to the table and pressing a button. “The nurse will be here in a moment. You must be thirsty, right?”
I nodded, and he walked over to the door. My heart started racing at the thought that Brady would be leaving me alone here, but he only poked his head out for a minute before returning to my side.
“Luke’s getting you some water,” he said as he wiped his cheeks, and I frowned at the tears. He’d been crying because of me, because I’d hurt him. He seemed to realize I was watching because he looked at me with narrowed eyes and spoke. “I wasn’t crying. I just had—okay, I was crying, but if you tell anyone, I’ll make you regret it.”
I grinned at Brady before sobering up. “What happened?”
He sighed loudly as he sat on the edge of my bed and took my hand in his again. “Jo’s stepbrothers followed the two of you when you were headed to the craft store on Saturday. You managed to make Jo escape, but they still—they hurt you. I was so scared.” The last part was barely a whisper, and I squeezed his hand in comfort even as I tried to remember what he was telling me. I couldn’t.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember it. The doctor said you’ve got a horrible concussion.”
“Okay,” I whispered, and then the nurse was there, checking my vitals and making sure everything was normal. Luke popped in to hand Brady a plastic cup of water with a straw before waving at me and leaving the room. Brady walked over to me and helped me sit up before handing me the water.
I sipped it slowly, sighing in relief as the cool water hit my parched throat. I took a moment to process the fact that I’d almost died because of Jo’s stepbrothers’ hate for them. Did my brother hate me that much too? The thought was depressing, but I didn’t let it consume me. I needed to let go of my brother. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wishing he didn’t hate me for who I was.
