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“Would you like me to apologize for not calling, Maddox?” I ask.
He scrapes a hand down his face. “Just forget it.”
“I think we just wish you wanted to be more involved in the family,” Dad says, finally acknowledging my presence tonight.
I drop my fork. It clatters on the rim of the plate. With a turn of my head, I find him staring at me, expression calm. I tongue my cheek to find my own sense of calm.
His brown hair and green eyes make him look so unlike me. We have so little in common, physically, emotionally, and personality-wise. I don’t know how I’m his son.
“Involved in a family where half its members can’t stand me. It’s a wonder why I’m not nipping at your heels trying to be involved.” The words are sharp enough to hide the hurt in them.
“Noah, you know that’s not true,” Mom croaks.
I push my plate away and feel Tinsley’s eyes watching me. When her fingers brush my thigh, it’s like the room falls to the back of my mind. I zero in on the touch and the way it steadies me.
She’s the cure to my insanity. The flicker of light in the inescapable darkness. She’s mine.
I reach for her hand and set it fully on my thigh. Then, I cover it with my palm and hold it there. She doesn’t try to pull away.
“Can I talk to you in private?” Maddox asks a beat later. Green eyes hold my stare, almost pleadingly.
I want to say no, but a yes escapes me without warning. His expression relaxes a fraction before he hands Liam to Braxton and stands. It feels wrong to let go of Tinsley’s hand.
As I follow him through our childhood home, I harden my shell, not wanting to let myself wander down memory lane. The past is the past. Those memories have no business in my present life. They’ll only make my time here harder.
My brother doesn’t seem to notice my efforts.
“They kept our heights ticked on the wall in the laundry room. Have you ever noticed that?” he asks.
Slowing his steps, he forces me to walk beside him.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
He laughs, but it’s a sad sound. “Apparently not.”
“They’re just marks on a wall.”
“You’re right.”
I keep my walls up high. “If this is your attempt at bonding, I’m not interested. Childhood memories won’t change how I feel.”
He leads us toward the basement. The door is closed, but he pushes it open before flicking on the light. A set of stairs becomes visible. I haven’t been down to the basement since before I moved out. My bedroom was down there. It’s where I spent most of my time.
“Are you trying to get me to move back home? Because it’s not going to happen.”
He scoffs a laugh and starts to descend the staircase. “Yeah, right. I just want to show you something before you leave again.”
I follow him down the stairs but don’t reply.
Everything is exactly how I remember. The gaming centre with the flat-screen and couch that covers the entire room from edge to edge. The bar with the neon green stools. The empty guitar stands.
My bedroom door is shut with thekeep outsign still taped across the middle. My chest grows tight.
“Addie told me that Mom used to come down here all the time after you moved out. She did the same with my room after I moved out, but not to the same extent,” Maddox says, suddenly beside me. “She would take naps on our beds.”
“Mom has always been emotional with us.”
“You’re right. But she worries about you most.”
