Page 73

Story: Make Your Change

He looks at me, his eyes glassy. “You ever feel like you’re standing in your own life, and somehow you're still too far away to touch it?”

“Every day since Amelia died.”

He closes his eyes. Her name always landed like a lead weight between us.

“I’d give anything to have one more night,” I admit, barely louder than a whisper. “One more fight. One more stupid fucking conversation about what we’re going to have for dinner. But I don’t get that.” I pause, swallowing over the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. “You do.”

He opens his mouth, immediately closing it as he drops his face into his hands, stroking his eyebrows with his fingers and thumb. He lifts his head to look at me, his foot tapping with the restrained guilt swimming in his eyes. He turns toward the yard, tipping his head back to look up at the night sky.

“I didn’t realize I was falling in love with her ,” he says, his voice trailing off for a moment as he lets out a breath. “One day we were just two people trying to navigate raising a kid together, but then she went and turned my house into a home. I just didn’t realize it until she told me that she’s leaving.”

“She’s not gone yet.”

He turns his head to look at me. “She’s got one foot out the door.”

“Then grab her hand,” I insist, my brow furrowing. “Before the other foot follows.”

He runs a tired hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated breath. I study him for a moment, my eyes scanning his tiredface. My younger brother. The one I’ve always tried to protect. The one who’s always been there for me.

“Did you tell her that you’re in love with her?”

Carson diverts his gaze from mine, glancing down at his hands in his lap again. “No.” He lets out a shallow breath. “Not in a real way.”

My eyebrows pull together but I don’t ask him to elaborate. “Then you still can.”

Caron purses his lips. “I don’t think I can. She’s already decided that she’s going back.”

“Then give her a reason to question it.”

Carson turns back to me, the muscle in his jaw tightening. “You don’t get it?—”

“Ido,” I tell him, my tone sharper than I mean for it to be. “You think you’ve got more time. You think you can just wait until you’re ready, but that’s not how this works.”

Shock washes over his expression, like he’s too stunned to speak for a moment. Like he forgot I was the one who packed up Amelia’s things to donate. Who moved to a new house because I kept seeing her everywhere I looked. Who still can’t drive down the road where she was killed.

“I waited too long to say the right things,” I admit, my voice softer. Carson is the only one who knows what happened that night before a drunk driver killed her. The stupid argument we had. “I thought there would always be another morning. Another Sunday. Hell, another fight, even. But one day it was just gone. No warning, no do-over.”

Carson’s face goes still.

I swallow roughly, shoving the emotion back into the small box I keep it tucked away in. “You’ve still got time,” I tell him, giving him a nod of assurance. “Don’t waste it being scared.”

He lets out a ragged breath, then stands up like the chair beneath him is burning. He turns to face me, running a handthrough his hair. He paces a few steps past me and then back again before facing me once more.

“What if I tell her and it changes nothing?” His eyes are filled with worry. “What if she leaves anyway?”

“Then at least you know you told her how you felt,” I say, wishing I would have had the same opportunity. What I would give to go back in time just to tell her I love her once more. “You can live with that. Trust me—it’s the things youdon’tsay that’ll eat you alive.”

Carson stands in place, the silence settling around us as time stretches. He wrestles with the thought, at war with himself. His chest rises as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. I watch him carefully as his eyes open once more, releasing a long exhale.

“I’ll tell her in the morning before she leaves.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Tell her tonight.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” he murmurs.

“The truth,” I say. “Say exactly how you feel. She’s still here,” I remind him. “That’s the whole point. She’sstill here.”

He stares at me for a moment, eyes slowly searching mine. “Okay.” He nods in agreement. “I’ll tell her tonight.” He reaches for me, hand clasping my shoulder. “Thank you, Cale.”