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Brady: Sorry. Can I call?

Katie Martinez: Go ahead.

I hit the call button and settled on the barstool in the kitchen as I waited for my sister to pick up.

“Don’t you have a day job? And a girlfriend and like nine other things you do at the crack of dawn?”

“Yeah. But I feel like we didn’t really get to talk today.”

“It’s okay, Brady. You don’t have to check in on us all the time.”

“Yes, I do.” My voice was tight. Katie was silent on the other end of the line. I rubbed my jaw, feeling the sharp prickle of new hair growing in.

“Was there something specific?” Katie’s voice was rough with sleep.

I fidgeted, my fingers pushing the salt and pepper shakers around on the cream-colored granite. There was something specific, but suddenly it felt childish to be calling my sister in the middle of the night to talk to her about my own shitty decisions.

But it was too late to go back now. “I think I’m going to tell her about everything with Adriana.”

She hummed her agreement softly into the phone. “You should. I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

I scoffed. “Do you tell your boyfriends that story?”

“Not all the time. But Brady, you have got to give yourself some slack. We were kids. It wasn’t your fault.”

She didn’t understand, and she never would. My father never made her promise to protect our family. She never got the judgmental looks or felt the sharp sting of his physical and verbal disappointment every time one of us kids got in trouble. Once I’d been proud to shoulder that burden on my own.

Now it just felt lonely. Especially in moments like this. “I was supposed to take care of you. All of you.”

“We never expected that. I’ve told you that before, and I will tell you that again.”

“Dad expected it.” My throat closed tightly.

“Dad sucks, Brady. You can’t put any weight on what that man says. He didn’t have the balls to deal with a crappy situation on his own, so he stomped all over us and then left. I don’t even know what state he’s in right now.”

I knew exactly where he was, like I always did. The asshole had been in Atlanta for a few years now, settled and content with his children who didn’t fuck up their future. I’m not sure if I was tracking him to be sure he stayed away or in some kind of absent-parent drama that made me wish he was coming home.

“I couldn’t protect her. And when it came down to the worst moment in our lives, I ruined everything.”

“You’re being dramatic, Brady. We. Were. Kids. Stupid kids. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but Adriana doesn’t hold a grudge. She’s clean now, sober andhappy.”

“You’ve seen her?”

“Yeah, I’ve gone a few times. It’s not a jail, you know. You can just go down on one of the family days.” Her voice grew louder, more insistent. “She never blamed you. That was just the booze talking.”

“It talked a lot,” I said, sullen. My little sister had spent the years after her accident reminding me over and over again how much she hated me. How much she blamed me for screwing up her life. Maybe she was happy now, but those words, they were cemented at the back of my mind.

“Well then, grow some balls and try again. Go see her. I think you’ll feel better about it.”

I gripped the phone hard. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. So when are you marrying this girl?”

My brain nearly exploded at her casual change of topic. “Jesus, Katie, my heart just fell through my ass. You can’t just ask that kind of stuff.”

“Oh, come on. You brought her home to Mom and Lyla. You know that means we have to keep her now.” The laughter in her tone turned my lips, even though my heart was beating a little quicker than usual.

“I don’t do relationships.”

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