Page 37 of On My Side (Quiblings #3)

Ren

Playlist: Strawberry Wine | Noah Kahan

Audrey is unbelievably breathtaking tonight.

It makes me want to vomit.

“Hey.” I slide next to Leo, who’s leaning against the wall, eyes on his phone.

“Hey,” he responds, staring at his phone.

He and Izzy both came home from college to celebrate, and Alex surprised us by flying in from LA this morning.

For the first time since Kat’s wedding, all eight of us are together.

Including Kat, who’s here without her asshole husband.

Her presence and his absence have convinced me of the existence of a god.

“What’s his problem?” Alex asks, gesturing towards Leo. Her hair is shorter than the last time I saw her and she has a nose piercing, and it’s so silly, but it makes me sad to realize how little I interact with her compared to my other siblings.

Leo finally looks up and narrows his eyes at her. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Okay,” Alex says, absentmindedly swirling her flute of champagne. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t have a problem!” Leo says, loud enough that Hunter glances over at us. I smile and wave at her to signal everything’s fine. She shouldn’t have to deal with whatever has Leo’s knickers in a bunch.

“He and Stelly are fighting,” Izzy says, appearing out of nowhere. Finn’s back at college, so she, like her twin, is riding solo tonight.

“Can you not ?” Leo moans.

“At least you’re not married,” Kat says, from behind Alex. How the hell are my siblings so stealthy? “Because then you don’t have a way out.” She takes a long sip of her champagne.

We stare at her in uncomfortable silence.

“What?” she snaps.

“Are you okay, Meow?” I ask cautiously. I’ve been calling her Meow since I was a toddler, and I’m the only sibling allowed to do so. Family lore says I decided all cats were named Meow, so Kat and our actual household feline were confirmed as “Meow.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “Obviously.”

“No, no,” Leo says, pushing off the wall with renewed energy. “This is great. Let’s focus on Kat.”

It’s like he doesn’t know us, because trying to take the attention off yourself in this family is the only surefire way to make sure you have it.

“Tell them what’s going on,” Izzy encourages.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kat snag another glass of champagne. I’m not sure what instinct kicks in, but I reach over, snatch the flute and toss it back.

“ Lorenzo !” Kat shrieks. “That was mine .”

The rest of my siblings stare at me, and I don’t blame them. I’m usually a one and done kind of guy when it comes to alcohol.

“I’m… gonna go say hi to Jo and Hunter,” I say slowly. “Sorry you’re sad about your boyfriend and wife.”

“Husband and girlfriend,” Alex corrects gently. “You okay there?”

“I’m fine,” I insist stubbornly.

“Sure, buddy,” Leo says as Kat pats my shoulder sympathetically.

My god, they’re onto me. I’m usually better than this.

It’s probably because Audrey’s wearing the same perfume she wore when we went to the symphony and it’s making me lose my sensibilities.

As I walk to the bar, I pull out my phone.

Ren

you look great.

smell even better.

I stare at her as she straightens a centerpiece before she pulls out her phone and glances at her screen. She does a double take, then scans the room.

I wink at her when she finds me, and she scowls before looking at her phone again.

Audrey

now you’re talking to me?

Ren

guess so.

Audrey

can you not play games with me, ren?

Ren

sucks to have someone treat you like a toy, doesn’t it?

I watch Audrey stare at her phone after I send the last message, her face falling even more before she looks up at me. She shakes her head the same way I picture her shaking her head at Piper when she’s not mad, just disappointed, and pockets her phone.

Ren

i’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say

Delivered.

I exhale shakily and take another glass of champagne from a waiter, thanking them. I keep my phone in my hand, willing Audrey to text back.

I take a swig before walking over to Jo and Hunter to congratulate them. Jo is wearing black, like she always does, and Hunter is wearing a Barbie pink sparkly dress that makes her look like a human-sized disco ball.

I, as a dutiful younger brother, annoy Jo, and she attempts retaliation with a wet willy. I yelp and jump away at her wet finger in my ear, causing champagne to slosh out of the flute and onto my shirt, and me to drop my phone. Jo bends to grab it, but I beat her to it.

“That’s shady,” Hunter says, eyeing me suspiciously.

Why does everyone think I’m being weird tonight? I’m usually much better at pretending I’m fine, I’m really losing my touch.

“It’s not,” I argue. “If she was your sister, you wouldn’t want her touching your personal belongings, either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Lorenzo?” Jo asks, planting her hands on her hips and glaring at me menacingly. I try to pat the top of her head, but she swats at my hand and pulls away.

“Don’t worry about it,” I reply. “I’m proud of you.”

Jo’s come so far from the depressed and closeted teenager who had my parents worried sick. Within the last year, she survived a failed engagement, reunited with a childhood love who turned out to be the love of her life, and she’s thriving in a business she worked hard to build.

She’s also the reason I decided to go to therapy.

I was home from college for Thanksgiving one year, and she’d had three glasses of merlot.

She was talking about how mom and dad made her go to therapy in high school because she was depressed.

I asked how she knew she was depressed, and she told me she didn’t realize the symptoms weren’t normal.

When she listed out a bunch of them, there were so many of the same things I was struggling with.

Since my scary big sister did therapy, I thought I might give it a try, too.

Jo was the first of our siblings to come out as queer, and it shook up our entire family dynamic. In a good way, but change, even positive change, isn’t always easy or painless. Since then, Nic and Alex have come out as bi, and Millie’s out as pan, making half of us openly queer.

Then there’s me, demi and pan but not knowing if I’ll ever come out to my family. While I’m sure they would be fine with it, I feel like I’ve spent too long perfecting this persona I have with them. I can’t reveal anything that might jeopardize how they perceive me.

I deposit my empty champagne flute onto a tray and head to the bathroom to clean myself up.

I dab at my shirt with a dampened paper towel, relieved to see I hadn’t spilled too much on myself.

I put my suit jacket back on and look in the mirror.

This is the Ren I want people to see, the one without flaws.

Perfectly dressed, no tattoos visible. I don’t recognize myself, because I’d become comfortable being myself around Audrey.

Audrey.

The idea of being in the same room again sounds like hell, so after fixing my hair, I head to the baby grand in the lobby.

I sit on the bench and flex my fingers before placing them over the keys and starting to play.

I don’t know what I’m playing, and there’s no rhyme or reason to it.

I used to do this a lot, usually when my feelings got too big, or I had my heart broken.

I let my emotions guide me in the music.

So that’s what I do with these too big feelings, this all-encompassing heartbreak. It feels like the notes dance around me, a devastating number, and for a moment, I’m not in the lobby of an inn. I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. I simply exist .

“Birdie?”

I still when her voice breaks through my trance, and I’m violently yanked back to reality when I see Audrey frozen by the front desk. She stops in her tracks when our eyes meet.

“Shit, sorry. I heard the piano and Piper’s really the only one to play it, so I thought it was her…”

I shake my head. “It’s your inn. You don’t have to apologize.”

The silence hangs over us like the threat of rain—uncertain, but present all the same.

“I’m going to go back,” she says. “I’m sorry for interrupting. But it was beautiful.”

It feels like someone takes an icepick to my heart, and it shatters. “You… don’t have to leave. If you don’t want to,” I choke out as she turns. She stills, and for a moment, I allow myself to dare to hope.

“I really, really don’t want to go.” Her response is so quiet I think I imagine it. Last time, it was me saying that to her. That I wanted to stay with her, in her bed. I could be petty, but when she turns back to me, I slide to the edge of the bench to make room for her.

She sits next to me, the hips and thighs I dream about pressed against mine. It’s devastating.

“Keep playing,” she whispers, and I do. She’s silent as I let the music speak for me.

It’s like running, but instead of exerting physical energy, it’s emotional energy.

As I continue to play, I almost forget about Audrey until she makes a noise.

I stop playing and look at her, taken aback by the tears streaming down her face.

“Aud,” I say, but she cuts me off.

“I’m scared,” she whispers, eyes meeting mine. “I’m so scared, Ren.”

“I know, sweetheart,” I say softly. “I am, too.”

“I don’t think I know how to be brave,” she chokes out.

I stare at her in disbelief. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

“Not brave enough to let myself be happy. Not brave enough to be honest.”

Not brave enough to be honest .

I can be brave for her. For this. “I can’t fucking sleep,” I whisper after a moment.

“I barely eat. I haven’t gone on a run because I think about the first time you brought me coffee whenever I pass the seawall.

My new scripts are shit because my reality was better than anything I can imagine.

And I miss you, Audrey. I didn’t tell you, when you said it, but you’re my best friend, too. ”

“I never meant to lead you on. I never wanted you to feel used or that you weren’t important to me. Because that’s not true.”