Page 123

“I told you I didn’t want you coming here.” He looks at me, jaw set and stubborn.
“Why?” I shake my head, refusing to accept his answer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I told you to wait for me.” He swipes an angry hand over his face. “You wouldn’t listen. You never fucking listen.”
When I don’t answer him, when all I do is wait for his answer, he turns toward the window again. “How many of your friends know you have a brother?”
I don’t have friends. I have acquaintances. I have people I associate with. People who smile and air-kiss my cheeks while silently judging everything about me, from my shoes to my hair. But I know what he means. I understand what he’s asking me.
“None.” I hate saying it. I hate that I’ve allowed my mother to erase him but it’s true and he deserves to hear it, even if it hurts. “No one knows about you.”
“Because mom refuses to acknowledge me.” He laughs a little. “Because she took you and left me behind. Didn’t want me.”
“Ryan…” I shake my head because I don’t know what else to say.
“He’s a lousy drunk and the shittiest father on the planet but he was our father.” He makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Jack was the only thing that connected us. The only thing that made us family. Without him, what are we, Hen?”
“We are family, Ryan.” I insist, reaching for him. I close my hand over his and he lets me. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t look at me either. Doesn’t believe me. “Let me talk to Spencer. We’ll get you transferred to a facility in New York. Somewhere close by.” The plan tumbles out, faster than I can form it. “Maybe an apartment. We can—”
“No.” He pulls his hand from mine, his gaze finds me face, flat and dull.
“What?” I feel my spine jerk straight. “I—” I shake my head, swallowing hard. “We’re family, Ryan. I want to help you. Take care of you.”
“The way you took care of Dad?” His mouth quirks, fast and ugly. “Cleaned him up when he pissed himself. Kept him from choking on his own puke. Dumped his bottles down the drain after he passed out.” He flattens his mouth and for a moment, looks so much like our mother I feel my heart twist a little in my chest. “What are you gonna do? Fit in weekly visits between your luncheons and your spa days? Maybe if I’m lucky, you’ll introduce me to your friends. Tell them all about your long lost, brain-damaged brother who got his shit blown off.” He stops talking, the muscle in his jaw twitching and clenching.
“She didn’t take me with her because she loves me.” I reach for him again but this time he pulls away. “She took me because I was weak.” Looking up at him, I find him watching me. “Because even though I hated her, I needed her to love me.”
For a few painful moments, neither of us say a word. Neither of us look away. Finally, he cracks. “I have physical therapy in a few minutes.” Ryan’s gaze slides away from mine and finds the window again. “You should probably go.”
I realize it’s something we’ve always done. Push each other away. Hold each other at a distance. We say we love each other but don’t really know what that means.
We want to love each other but we can’t.
Not really.
No one ever showed us how.