Page 60 of Van Cort

“Fuck you, Rhett. What do you want? Poor you?”

Part of me wants to laugh. “No. I learned that expecting pity from you was a pointless endeavour a long time ago.” He scowls, like that at least hit home in some way.

“I just want my brother back. I want him to understand me, and I need to know that I can rely on him. Nothing works with River unless we make that happen. You know it as well as I do. We’d be better letting her go than putting her through that kind of hell. ”

Silence floats between us, and other than the low hum of noise coming from the streets below, there’s an empty air of unfinished conversations we should have had a long time ago.

“I missed you, West. I missed the other part of me. And you were God knows where, and I was alone. I dealt with everything, and our father, and then our business, and I didn’t care about that, but you were the part of me that kept me fucking sane.”

“Could’ve called.” I look at him.

“I did. For nearly a year. You wouldn’t answer.” He turns away.

“Didn’t fucking like you much.” I laugh and lift myself up from the rail, sighing out the laughter as if it didn’t really sit well inside me. “In fact, I hated you for what you did to her.”

“Do you still hate me?” He sighs and turns to rest on the railing, facing me.

A long time passes with just us two looking at the mirror image looking back.

Neither of us moves from it, or even blinks.

I expect we’re both thinking the same things, both analysing the same feelings.

I’ve wondered, sometimes, if that’s what makes twins almost useless without each other.

No one else understands, but that reflection - the real live version of a double, gives credence to the other’s life somehow, helps it feel the ground beneath its feet.

He turns from the internal conversation first, breaking our monologue, and heads back to the chairs I was sitting in earlier without answering.

I don’t know how long we both sit there for, but time seems to pass in the silence we both allow.

I’m not sure when the last time we did this was - just sat and watched the world drift by around us.

We used to. Although maybe our thoughts weren’t perfectly in sync back then.

Maybe, because of what I went through compared to him, we thought differently, and he never knew how much he meant to me.

I should talk about that long ago boat ride, the one where I tried to rescue him.

It all started then. Everything that came after that came because of that runaway trip to the island. My failure. My fault.

“What time is it?” he asks. “I’m hungry.” I look at my watch.

“Seven-thirty. I should go to the office.”

“Really? She’s in there, still sleeping, and you’re thinking about work?”

“The state committee are here to talk about funding, which Van Cort does, by the way, and I’ve already put them off because I proposed. I’m supposed to be meeting them at nine.”

“Will the state collapse without you for a few days?”

I chuckle lightly. “I doubt it.”

“Fuck that then. Go wake her up. Eggs?”

I stand and walk slowly back towards the doors for the apartment. “Do I look like I have a refrigerator full of breakfast food?”

“You told her we’d talk at breakfast, and you’ve got no food to give her?” I hadn’t thought about that.

He walks past me and ruffles his hair, striding out of the room soon after. “Put more coffee on.”

The apartment door opens and closes, and the ensuing silence makes me consider exactly that - the silence. It never really is here. Even this high up, I can still hear the noise from the city below me. It drones on, and on, and on. I need that to leave me. I need to leave.

Showered and changed, I go switch the machine on and then stare around the kitchen to consider the best place for breakfast conversations. I’ve never had a meal here with someone else, let alone breakfast.

My gaze drifts to the dining table and chairs at the far end of the lounge area, untouched since they were installed.

It’s a sad fucking reflection of my life when I think about it.

I thought I was comfortable with that, happy to dismiss connection or compatibility and just provide a Van Cort show.

But now – I look towards the bedroom corridor – I’m ravenous for more of what life could offer.

Maybe I always was.

The soft sound of a shower focuses my attention, and I lean back on the counter, wondering what fate will bring today.

There isn’t really anything I can do now but answer questions and hope.

West will try his best, using kind words and romantic pleasantries, but the fundamentals won’t change, no matter what he says.

This is her decision. She either wants us, or she doesn’t.

Or, considering what she said last night, maybe she’ll choose one of us.

I don’t know what that means to me, but I don’t like the thought, despite how much I love her. He is me. I am him.

With both of us, she gets everything.

Not much longer passes by before I hear her heels coming through the lounge. I stare from the kitchen island, waiting, and finally see her as she comes around the corner into the open doorway.

We both stare, both unable to form anything in our mouths.

I open mine anyway.

“No. Don’t speak,” she says. My brow arches. “Okay. Everett.” A smile broadens on my face, and I nod.

“You see? Easy. Good morning.”

“I’m not sure we should consider it good yet. It is morning, though.”

Leaning over the island unit, I pour her a cup of coffee and sit back away from her again. “You’re still here. In my apartment. I’d consider that a win.”

“Because we’re in a game?”

“No. Because you could have run. You didn’t.”

She takes a sip of her coffee before looking around the space. “Well, firstly, neither of you would let me, and secondly, the door was locked.”

“You’re a resourceful girl. I’m sure you’d have found a way to leave if you really wanted to.”

“Where is he?”

“Why? Am I not enough?” She stares at me for some time, head tilted, as she continues to drink her coffee without answering. “What are you interrogating inside that head of yours?”

“You’re jealous. Nervous. I’ve never seen jealousy on you before. How does it work if you get jealous?”

“I’m not jealous of what my brother can offer you. You deserve it. I am nervous of the fact that I can’t offer the same. Not yet, at least.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know who that boy inside me is anymore. He got lost. Sometimes, I remember him, but mostly I remember his pain. It isn’t somewhere I enjoy revisiting.”

“Did West get beaten, too?”

“No. Well, not much. Only a few times.”

“Why not?” I lick my lips and stand, not ready to talk about something that’s between West and I alone, let alone show her a side of him she wasn’t aware of. Not that she’s aware of any side of him in reality.

“That’s his story to tell if he wants to. He’s gone to get you some breakfast. He’ll be back soon.” She nods, then leans forward and puts her cup down, frowning about something. Everything, maybe.

“Is there anything I can do to make this make more sense for you?”

“No, I just… There are other things to consider, other opportunities, and this is, well, something I did not expect.”

“What opportunities?”

The door opens just as she’s about to answer, and West walks in carrying a bag full of something. She smiles a little as he approaches the island but doesn’t offer anything else on the conversation we were having.

“Haven’t run away then?” he says, getting items from the bag.

“Not yet.”

He places a plate of bagels, with varying different fillings, down on the surface. “Going to?”

“Unsure.”

“Eat. Everything makes more sense when you’re not hungry.”

“What opportunities, River?” I ask again.

“I’ve been offered a job, and I’ve been assessing the pros and cons. You’ve helped me make my decision.” She looks to both of us. “I’m going to take it. And give you an answer in a year.”