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What the hell was her brother doing here?
Hurrying, she crumpled the note, shoved it in her pocket, then moved to open the door. “Gabe, what’s—”
He pushed past her, almost knocking her back a step as he stormed into the hallway. “What the fuck, T?”
There was way too much happening in her head to discern exactly whichwhat the fuckhe was referring to.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, closing the door.
“Lock that,” he snapped.
She’d already been reaching for the dead bolt, but the snapped-out command had her jerking her hand back. “Why?” she asked sharply. “You won’t be staying.” She crossed her arms, leaned back against the wood. “It’s late and I’m tired. Yell at me for whatever it is you’ve come to yell at me about”—that numbness began creeping into her toes, snaking up her calves because late-night visits were never about anything else—“and then let me get to bed.”
His expression clouded for a moment. “What are you talking about?”
A sigh and she forced her tone to go neutral, made easier because the numbness had crept into her torso now, settled into her belly. “What are you upset about?”
That had his face clearing, him stepping closer, close enough that he could grab her arm and tow her away from the door. She heard theclickof the lock engaging, the evidence of him not listening to her, of no one in her lifelistening—
Except Jeremy.
He’d listened.
Well, he was gone now, wasn’t he?
“You blew Mom off, and she’s upset.”
That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. How could it be? It was so fucking absurd that she was momentarily stunned silent.
“What are you talking about?”
Gabe narrowed his eyes. “You know she looks forward to weekly manicures, and you canceled.”
“I rescheduled tooneday later because I have a business meeting,” she snapped.
“You know she likes her routine.”
Their mom did. That was true. But, fuck, sometimes routines had to shift, to change, to allow for people to shift and change and grow.
“You can’t be serious right now,” she whispered. “You’re showing up to my house at nine at night, berating me about changing my mani-pedi day with Mom from Wednesday to Thursday nights?” A beat then when he didn’t immediately answer, asking, “Is that seriously why you’re here?”
His expression rippled, and she felt something in her respond, the numbness creeping back. “Mom is upset.”
She inhaled, released it.
“Why are you really here, Gabe?”
For a second, for onefuckingsecond, she thought that she was going to have an honest conversation with her brother.
But then his expression shifted again, settling into mulish lines she knew all too well, and he crossed his arms. “Just because you think this stupid idea of yours for an app is going to be successful, doesn’t mean that you should sacrifice your family.” The words connected with her torso like bullets—thud, thud, thud, in rapid succession, one after another. But even as she was breathing through the pain of his words, he went on, and pain turned to numb. “Mom dideverythingfor you. Mom sacrificed her career, her free time, her body, her—”
“I didn’t ask her to,” Teresa yelled. “I didn’t want her to sacrifice anything. I didn’twantto be born. I didn’twant—”
“To what?” He threw up his hands. “To be part of our family? To bestuckwith us? Always too good for family and home andus, always wanting more than what we could give you, huh?” He turned away. “Well, I’m so sorry that we’re not enough.”
The numb settled so heavily over her that she could barely breathe.
“My app isn’t stupid,” she whispered inanely.
