Page 122 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

We enter through the front door, letting the dogs off their leashes, then head for the living room.

I’m stopped in my tracks by the sight in front of me.

“Brit?” I ask. She’s on her tiptoes, hugging Matt.

She lets him go at the sound of my voice. “Yeah,” she blushes, pushing a few stray tears away. It’s none of my business though. Whatever the fuck just happened… Whatever the fuck it means, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t see it.

She walks over to me, going back on tiptoes to hug me. She holds on tight.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she whispers in my ear. She moves on, giving Connie an extra long hug, too.

“I just came to check on you, both.”Yup, well, this is it.“You look like you’re doing okay.” She eyes me warily. Then does the same with Connie.

“I’m fine, Brit,” I say, and she nods.

“Okay, I, uh, can’t stay long. Elodie and I fly home tomorrow. And it’s Caroline’s Big senior year, so we’re staying back East for a while. I guess I just wanted to say bye. And make sure you’re good?”

“All good,” I say with false confidence.

“Okay, then.” She gives me one last hug, and another to Connie, putting a kiss on his cheek.

“Love you, Dad,” she says to him, and Connie’s eyes turn watery. His hand shakes slightly as he gives her one more short hug.

“Love you too, Peanut.”

They both share a shaky smile and then she’s gone.

I’ve never heard her call him dad before. Or say I love you. The moment…feels mournful.

I watch my sister leave, Connie excuses himself, and then I’m left with Matt, who also has tears in his eyes.

What the fuck?

“What-” I go to ask, but Matt stops me.

“Just not right now,” he says before walking away.What the fuck?

“How does that make you feel that Georgia sent you to live with Ray while Britain lived with her?”Pissed.

“I don’t know.” Maureen smiles at my agitated response, like she’s holding back a laugh because this is how it goes. I’m always holding the real feelings in. “Fine, I hate her for it.” It’s the first time I’m saying the words aloud. It’s damn near freeing to let it go.

“I think that’s fair,” Maureen says. She never judges me once I do say the truth; in fact, she never makes me feel bad about anything, ever. There’s no guilt, no shame, just validation.

“Did you ever talk to her about thisbetrayal? Can I call it that? Do you feel like it was a betrayal or neglect?”Yes, to both.

“Yeah, you can call it that, and no, I never talked to her about it.” I hardly talked to Georgia at all once I turned 18.

“Did she ever say sorry or express guilt?”

“Not to me,” I anger. Talking about this always ended with me angry.

“Do you think she was, though?”

“I don’t fucking know, Maureen. I’m not a fucking mind reader.” She gives me the same tight-lipped smile she always does.

“This subject seems to be particularly hard to digest. So switching gears, I’m going to give you a scenario, okay? And we’re going to walk through it together. So close your eyes.”

This is fucking stupid.