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“So you’re okay with not knowing about your brother’s condition?”
“He’s fine. He’s not paralyzed or incapacitated. Stop channeling the Nora Sterling in you and making this into a big fucking drama that it isn’t.” I forcibly pop the bottle and drink straight from it, dousing my throat with burning liquor.
“Well, I’m sorry that I tried to bring you close to your family.”
“Apology accepted.”
She glares, then crosses her arms over her chest. “You know what? Screw you, Daniel. I’m retracting that apology, because I know I did the right thing and you would know it, too, if you weren’t too busy being a dick.”
“The right thing? Since when are you a saint, Nicole? You like using people, so let’s hear it. What did you intend to gain from this? My mother’s favor? My brother’s attention? Did you put all that effort into the food so that he’d decide to keep you as his warm hole?”
The sound comes first, loud and deafening in the silence of the house. Then the sting of her palm against my cheek follows. There’s an unnatural shine in her eyes, but the tears don’t escape. “I’m no one’s warm hole, including yours. And I only put in all that effort foryou. To make you happy as you made me yesterday by bringing Uncle Henry, but apparently, I made a mistake. I always make mistakes when it comes to you and it’s time I learn to not make them anymore.”
And then she strides out of the kitchen like a storm.
I slowly close my eyes and take a sip of the whiskey, knowing full well that I screwed it all up.
Not that it wasn’t meant to be screwed eventually.
31
NICOLE
Islam the door to the bedroom shut, walk away from it, then storm toward it again.
My hand hesitates on the handle before I release it with a loud puff.
The lava that’s been building in my bloodstream is now roaring to the surface and I can no longer trap it inside.
I can no longer pretend that I can keep on doing this and feel nothing.
It’s only been me, ever since I first saw Daniel when we were damn kids. Ever since I envied him for being mischievously free when I couldn’t dream of it.
I grab a lollipop that’s lying on the dresser and jerkily remove the stupid wrapper, then crunch it so hard, my teeth hurt. Now, even my lollipop sucking habits are changing because of him.
My weight falls on the bed and I pull my legs into my chest, but the usual self-comfort doesn’t work this time.
So I walk to the bag I brought and retrieve the emerald necklace. I haven’t been wearing it lately, but I always keep it close. This time, I put it around my neck, then get the small box I always keep with me.
The box that the little girl in me used as a form of consolation. The adult in me continued to use it as a source of peace.
My fingers glide over the small wooden exterior that’s accentuated with a metallic lock. I took this box with me everywhere after Mum was arrested. I hid it under my bed and stared at it when it got too hard. When Jay was sick. When my nightmares and panic attacks rendered me crippled.
I used to try and hide this part of me by any means necessary, but it’s different now.
Now, I meant what I said. I’m not going to keep making the same mistake named Daniel.
If I want to move on, to pick up the pieces of my life and survive, then I need to deal with this once and for all.
It’s not about why he’s angry, which he vehemently believes is that I invited his family without telling him—a fact that he’ll thank me for later.
He’s angry because, like back when we were teenagers, he doesn’t like that he wants me.
He loathes it with passion.
And if that’s the case, then he’s going to say it to my face and spare me a stronger heartache.
Not allowing myself to change my mind, I carry the box close to my chest and stride to the door. The moment I open it, I pull Daniel inside, because he’s gripping the handle.
