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“I love your father. He’s the only man for me, and I am grateful every day to spend my life with him, but I’ve never had to worry about Dad being enough for me because I always had more. I had my career, my fundraising, my life outside of him that I never had to give up for him. And I would never expect him to give things up for me either.”
I pulled back, frowning. I understood what she was saying, and yes, she was right, but, “Brian never asked me to give anything up for him. He would never do that.”
“I didn’t say he would. I’m not blaming it on him. I’m just saying you love big, and you want to take care of that man. You would give the world to him because that’s who you are, but you need things for you too. Are you going to sit around waiting for him all day every day while he’s at work? Is that going to be enough for you? Are you going to practice law in North Carolina? Have you asked yourself any of these questions or just ignored them because you love him?”
I couldn’t find words to answer her, but maybe it was more that I didn’t want to. I wanted to pretend everything would be okay, but it didn’t always work out that way, did it? Things hadn’t been okay with Paul. He’d needed help…and Brian needed help, but he wasn’t getting it.
I messed up with my brother, but I wasn’t going to let myself mess up with Brian too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Brian
I sneaked back to Charles’s bedroom when he didn’t answer his mom’s question. I wanted to be angry with her, wanted to be able to tell myself she was wrong about all the things I’d heard her say, but none of it had been untrue. She loved her son. She wanted what was best for him. And Charles and I had been doing a good job pretending we didn’t have any problems and everything would automatically just be okay, like I’d been doing most of my life.
Questions I hadn’t allowed myself to acknowledge dug out from under my denial and showed their faces. Did Charles love me, or did he want to save me because he hadn’t saved Paul?
I sat down on the edge of the bed and waited, unsure if I had it in me to talk to him about the things I needed to and wishing I could block out what I’d heard. If I kept lying to myself, I could at least have him for a while longer before I lost him. I knew I wouldn’t do that, though. It wasn’t fair to Charles, who never really asked for anything from me. All the changes I’d tried to make, or the times I’d stepped out of my comfort zone, were my own choices, not because he made me feel obligated.
And maybe it wasn’t fair to me either.
Time slowly ticked by, minutes feeling like hours until I heard Charles’s mom leave. He would come straight to the room. I knew that because I knew him. He would want to see how I was doing.
I didn’t look up when he approached the doorway, stopping and leaning against the jamb.
“You’re awake,” Charles said softly.
“Yep.”
“Why didn’t you come out?”
“I did,” I admitted, which I knew would clue him in that I’d heard them.
“Shit,” Charles cursed. “I don’t know what it was you heard, but I assume it didn’t sound good from your end. She—”
“I can’t keep going on this way.” I risked looking up at him. Pain shredded my heart.
Charles stiffened. “What does that mean?” he asked, his voice more vulnerable than I’d ever heard it. “You’re ending this instead of trying to work it out with me?”
I shoved to my feet, heart in my throat, which felt like it was getting tighter. “No. God no. I just…” Speak, I silently berated myself, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe if I’d been braver and not afraid of my struggles, it wouldn’t have gone this badly.
Charles said, “I should have told my parents and changed my mom’s birthday plans. I should have pushed more about seeing a doctor. I shouldn’t have worried about upsetting you, but I don’t want this to unravel because of your panic attacks. If you’re worried about me, don’t. I—”
“No. Hell no. I would have been horrified if she had to change her birthday plans because of me. This is what I’m talkin’ about!” I shouted, surprised I was raising my voice. It wasn’t something I did often. “You can’t save me. My anxiety isn’t your problem. It’s not something you should have pushed for me to deal with. It’s something I need to make myself work on by myself—for myself. I just… I never cared until I had you, and now I have something else to fight for. I’m your partner, not your responsibility…and I ain’t blamin’ you for wantin’ to be there for me. It’s my fault for not handling my shit, but you can’t bear that burden; you can’t be the only one givin’ or the only one changin’ your whole life around for me. Your mama was right. You—”
