Page 109 of The Other Brother

It feels… right.

“Shit.” He abruptly pulls away and retreats a few steps, raking his hands through his hair. Regret is in every line of his body. It gashes me. He can’t look me in the eyes.

My thudding heart is now playing the beat of a sad, sad song.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he mutters, still not looking at me.

My throat is clogged, but somehow I force out a lighthearted tone. “It’s okay. I want to be a paramedic, you know. Emergency mouth-to-mouth is kind of our thing.”

Cody doesn’t even lift a corner of his mouth in response. “Sorry,” he repeats. He pushes past me, leaving me standing there alone.

“It’s okay,” I say again to the empty bathroom.

When I slip backinto Kate’s room, Cody’s sitting on the windowsill. The sun behind him highlights his curls, so he looks like one of those avenging angels from the movies. One of those characters where you’re not sure whether they’re coming to earth to reap destruction or salvation.

I lean against the opposite wall and force myself to smile. I make myself laugh. I tell jokes and make comparisons about the baby and bald movie stars.

Basically, I do everything I can possibly do to paper over the cracks forming deep inside me. Because I get the feeling that once I fall into the blackness, I’m not finding my way out anytime soon.

The few times my eyes dart to Cody, he’s studying the floor with his intense concentration face on. As if the linoleum contains the answers to all the secrets of the universe.

Is he trying as hard as I am not to fall apart? Or is he simply avoiding looking at me because he’s embarrassed?

When it all boils down, he can walk away from me.

But I could never walk away from him.

The knowledge sits in my throat, providing a choking sensation every time I swallow.

Because that’s what it comes down to, right? Cody can walk away, find someone who his parents will approve of. I’m sure his mum will get over the gay thing if he brings home someone like him. Another musician, maybe. Someone who is smart, focused, someone who suits him better than me.

He can replace me. But there is no way I can ever replace him.

Chapter29

It doesn’t take long for Ethan to become another rope in Mum and Frank’s endless tug-of-war game.

He’s a tiny baby who, from what I’ve seen, currently can’t do anything more than poop, sleep, cry, and eat. Yet somehow his existence has triggered another level of carnage. Mum and Frank are turning grandparenting into a competitive sport. Next thing you know, they’ll be registering it for the Olympics.

Mum gets all offended that Kate decided to use some crib that came from Frank’s aunt instead of the one she brought her.

“She said it offers more support for his back or something ridiculous like that,” I hear her complaining to Dad one night, her voice tight. “I know it’s really because she doesn’t want to upset her father. She’s always been a Daddy’s girl. Always worried more about what he thinks than about my feelings.”

Dad murmurs something in reply.

“And she didn’t even want to hear my advice on the best way to wrap him. Apparently, Heather has this technique that works perfectly, so she doesn’t want to try another way.”

I quickly discover that the best strategy is to avoid any mention of babies or else it triggers a Mum rant. On the plus side, I now know a lot more about why babies should sleep on their backs rather than their sides.

Saturday night, I wander into the kitchen to find Mum baking peanut brownies. As they’re Kate’s favorite, I assume they’re for her.

“Are you taking those to Kate?” I ask innocently.

Mum’s back stiffens. “No. Kate’s made it perfectly clear she doesn’t need anything from me,” she snaps.

Oh shit. More crap has obviously gone down.

“Whatever,” I say, backing out of the room.