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I swallowed, staring up at the dark ceiling, the darkness I lived in just a little too opaque tonight. True, I didn’t want to subject Wes to my personal demons, however, I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t want to hurt him. But I also didn’t know how to tell him the truth without causing pain.
I took a long time to answer, dragging my fingers along his spine, tracing over the contours of his back and noting the calm rhythm of his heart. He waited patiently for me to answer, fingers drawing small circles against my side before tucking his fingers between me and the bed.
“Yes,” I said finally, knowing I couldn’t sugarcoat my truth. “I think as good as they were, as much as they loved us… I think their sons wanting a relationship beyond brotherhood would be hard to swallow.”
It became my turn to wait him out, to lie there quietly while he looked inside himself or perhaps searched the inky shadows for whatever it was he wanted to say… to feel.
“I’m not sure I care.”
My caressing fingers stalled in the middle of his back, the tips lifting from his skin as I angled my head down to look at him. Of all the things he could have said, this was least expected.
“What?” I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice.
His head tilted up, curls wild. There was nothing wild about his eyes, though, nothing defiant or even traces of hurt. All I saw was calm resolve.
“They left us here,” he told me. “And yeah, it wasn’t their choice, but we’re alone just the same. So why should their death dictate my life? My happiness.”
The words I’d told myself so many times before fell thick with melancholy out of my mouth as if I disliked them but accepted their existence, as if I could make him believe what I always told myself. “Maybe you could be happy without me.”
His nostrils flared, incredulity filling his eyes. “No,” he argued, body pulling away from mine so he could sit up at my side. “I can’t. I can live. I can exist. I can do things that I like. But happiness? It’s like water through a sieve if I don’t have you.”
For so long, I ached, trying to make myself believe he could be happy if we remained just brothers. For so long, I tried to make it true. The harder I forced myself to believe it, the more painful it became.
His words just now? The absolute denial? It made me hurt less.
But this was the brat in Wes, the defiant, stubborn baby of the family. Always ready to go for what he wanted because deep down he knew everyone would love him still. No one would abandon him. I envied that. I wanted to protect it.
I knew what it was like to be discarded. To be unloved and unaccepted. To be thought unworthy because I didn’t do what others wanted. Sure, I gave those people the finger, and they could take a nice long look at me not giving a flying fuck.
But…
There was an exception. My parents. Mytruemom and dad.
They took me in. Loved me. Saved my life. They were there even when they didn’t have to be, even when I was a little ass. So to so boldly do something I knew they wouldn’t support was in a sense harder for me than Wes. Even if they weren’t here anymore, I couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing them. Of them taking back their love. It was that love that saved me. That love that taught me how to love.
Every day, I asked myself,Would they still have taught me love if they knew I would direct it all at their son?
So while Wes was right—their death shouldn’t dictate our lives—it was their love that even gave me one at all.
I didn’t know how to say that, how to put words to my deepest emotions. I also didn’t want to make them his responsibility because they weren’t.
“You think bad of me now.”
My eyes whipped up to him, to the way he watched me warily while nibbling on his entirely kissable lower lip.
Sitting up, I tugged the lip away from his abuse, reaching to brush at his wayward curls. “I could never think bad of you. You could murder twenty people, and I would defend you still.”
His little half smile was short-lived but enough to make my heart skip a beat. “You care, though, right? It’s what held you back. It’s killing you they wouldn’t like this.”
“I do care.” The small admission felt like letting go of a giant secret. The flash of hurt in his eyes pierced my heart and made me want to soothe him. To try and explain what I worried I couldn’t. “They were the only people to love me, you know? So doing something that might make them take it away hurts.”
Brows drawn down, he parted his lips, but when I reached for his fingers, wrapping mine around them, he let me speak instead. “But honestly, that’s not the thing that held me back the most. After all, we still made it here.”
Breath rushed out of him, his fingers clinging tighter to mine. “I’m so afraid you’re going to tell me this was a mistake. That tomorrow you’re going to want to pretend this never happened.”
A deep sound vibrated my throat. “Look at me, Wes. Look at me and hear my words—no.” I changed my mind, taking his face in my hands and leaning in to implore. “Don’t just hear them,believe.”
I kept his face firmly in my grasp so he couldn’t nod. Instead, he licked his lips, saying, “Okay.”
