Page 12
Story: The Confidant
I stop my mini celebration in horror. We’ve entered scary movie territory now.
He hasn’t told Maman? What is he thinking? Our mother is a force to be reckoned with. I’m way too familiar with that fact.
“Why is it a big secret? You’re excited and everybody should know it,” I probe a little deeper in case I’m missing something.
“I do not want our entire family down here poking their noses into my weird relationship status,” he tells me with a scowl. “It’s hard enough keeping everyone from bombarding me already.”
I frown at the news. Not that I’m surprised he doesn’t want everybody getting uncomfortably close to his secrets. But the fact that he still sees his relationship as odd. That’s a recipe for disaster if I ever heard one.
He may not be over the moon in love with Frosting and Sprinkles, but he can’t make them disappear either. I don’t think he’s seeing the full potential he has at his fingertips.
“I can understand that,” I say, feeling my way through this mess with a blindfold and hoping for the best. “Do you have a problem accepting them?”
He gives me a frosted over look that says he’s bored with this topic.
Too bad. I’m older and I’m pulling rank.
I pretend not to see the not-subtle hint to change the subject. “Then what’s the problem? It’s not like the family can affect your life all the way down here. You’re a pro at ignoring phone calls. Let them fuss all they like. It won’t change how your dynamics work.”
His gaze drops to the sidewalk as he thinks about it. His slow digestion of emotion takes a lot of focus, so I leave him to it. He can listen, or not.
It’s always been this way with Ash. He makes his own decisions. I’m proud of that fact, even when I want to smack him on the back of the head when he acts stupid.
The diner down the street is usually where we end up for dinner. We have to pass by the newest tattoo shop to get there.
It’s busy inside. Four people are working, and two more customers are waiting at the counter. I try my hardest not to look, but it’s impossible. All around me, the business is thriving. Yet I’m shutting down with barely any money.
I shake my morose thoughts aside. This is the time to celebrate, not be negative.
We eat and have a great time. I’ve missed him since he found his soulmate. I couldn’t be happier for him, though. It’s nice to see him so helpless with emotion and to know that he has them for once. I thought it was all bottled-up angst, but it’s so much more. He’s finally blooming.
The only problem is he wants to keep them all to himself and hasn’t taken the plunge into letting us meet them.
“Be honest,” I tell him as he walks me home. I’m within walking distance of everything, so it’s not a big hardship. “Are you ashamed of us?”
The frosty glare he gives me doesn’t help.
“We should have met them long before this, and you know it, Ash,” I scowl back. “They probably think we all hate them. Meanwhile, Suzette is painting things to celebrate, and Daniella has a wedding venue picked out for you. I swear she’s got the thing paid up, and there’s a bet between her and Sophia on what date you’ll pick.”
“I don’t want them hearing stories.”
That drops me flat. I can’t really fight him on that. He has a right to his privacy, and most of our family are nosy busybodies. A few family members think sharing his story with others is a great idea. They don’t see his closed-off expression when they do it. The anger that bubbles up at their overshare of information.
Ash thinks it makes him look weak. A victim. He doesn’t want people reminding him of the things he’s gone through. I don’t blame him one bit. I try to minimize that damage as much as I can, but there’s only so much I can do.
“I don’t tell stories,” I offer helplessly.
He looks me over but doesn’t say anything. It hurts me more than I’ll ever tell him.
“Have you talked about it with them?” I press cautiously. He’s opened up to me a lot while he got his tattoos. Things that make me want to cry and rage. I think I’m the only one with more of a better scope of what happened to him. Not that I’ll ever ask for gory details or tell. Watching how hard it was for him to say anything was shaming enough for me.
“I mentioned it to Tera once. I haven’t since.”
I wince at the tight reply. I don’t want to push, but I do in a big way.
My brother has a complete support group to fall back on. And he’s still scared and keeping secrets.
Does he not think they’ll understand? Or that they’ll pity him? Ash is the type to punch out anybody who feels sorry for him. I don’t know which way to lean. I have my own hidden-in-plain-sight secrets, and I’ve only ever talked about them to my old therapist. It’s a rough road.
Table of Contents
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- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
- Page 13
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