by Cassia Leo
I could see the muscles in his jaw working as he bit back an angry response. “Fine. We’ll talk about it later.”
“Not later. Not ever.”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my gaze toward the dark glass of the car window as we passed the Botanical Gardens on Lincoln. I had to keep myself from telling him he could burn his money for all I cared. Luke didn’t need my impertinence right now. He needed my support. And I needed a stiff drink if I was going to get through this.
The driver left us at the entrance to the stroke center.
“Oh, no!” I cried as the car drove off.
“What? Did you leave your purse?” Luke asked, looking set to chase after the car.
“No! Oh, crap. I forgot I was supposed to meet Jill for dinner tonight. I have to call—wait…” My mind started working in matchmaker-mode as I realized Jill and Milo were both going to show up at the restaurant tonight without me. Finally, a bright spark of hope in this dark tunnel of misery.
“You can call her. I’ll wait.”
“No, no, it’s fine. She’ll figure it out and text me later. Let’s go inside.”
Luke looked tense as he waited for me to enter ahead of him through the automatic sliding doors. I stepped into the corridor and immediately became enveloped by the unmistakable odor of industrial hospital cleaner. Suddenly, the memory hit me like a train barreling over me.
Ryan stepped out of the office into the corridor at the VA hospital with a grin the size of a quartered watermelon and looking lighter than he had in months.
“Why are you so happy? Did they declare you too nuts to serve?”
“Nope. A little PTSD never hurt anyone. I’m going back,” he said cheerily.
“You’re full of shit. Did they tell you that you have PTSD?”
“I told you. I’m fine.”
We rounded the corner and the exit came into view. Finally, I could get out of this place. I’d been sitting in the waiting room for over two hours while Ryan was being assessed. The smell in the waiting room was like a mixture of popcorn and rubbing alcohol, and it made my stomach churn.
Ryan was walking strangely.
“Are you playing with your balls? Why do you have your hands in your pockets?”
“Yeah, I’m fucking jerking off,” he replied with a roll of his eyes as he dug a lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. “I’m gonna smoke a cigarette. I’ll wait here while you bring the car around. I gotta call Lydia.”
Lydia: Ryan’s on-again off-again girlfriend, who was conveniently off-again while he was in Afghanistan. They weren’t technically together at the moment, but that didn’t stop him from getting a booty call every other night.
“Sure, I’ll bring the car right around. Would you like me to pick up your dry-cleaning while I’m at it?” I asked, walking away as he leaned against a large planter.
“Hey.”
I turned around before I stepped off the curb. “What?”
He looked up from his phone and put it to his ear, but when he looked at me, for just a moment, the strange happiness he’d exuded since he walked out of the mental health office waivered. For a moment, I saw the scared boy I saw when he first found out he was being sent to war. Then it was gone and the serene smile was back.
“Thanks for bringing me.”
The mattress beneath me felt comfortable, but the sheets I was wrapped in were too crisp. I opened my eyes and found myself in a darkened hospital room with Luke hovering over me.
“You passed out. How are you feeling?”
“Really embarrassed.” I sat up and the bed swayed beneath me as I threw the covers off. I gripped the pillow and the blanket for support. “Whoa.”
Luke placed his hands on top of my thighs to keep me from sliding off the bed. “When was the last time you ate?”
“I haven’t eaten today. You called me while I was in line at Starbucks. I left without getting anything.”
“It’s almost four o’clock. You need to eat something.”
That’s when I noticed her sitting in a chair under the television that hung from the ceiling. She eyed me with a peculiar expression. She didn’t appear to be sizing me up or judging me. She seemed…intrigued.
Luke noticed us observing each other. “Brina, this is my sister, Reese. Reese, this is my…”
He turned to me, and I was surprised he was unsure of how to introduce me. I would have expected him, with his natural tendency to take charge, to say, “This is my girlfriend,” or, “This is my coworker,” or, “This is my sex slave,” but he was suddenly stumped, and I found it incredibly adorable.
Reese stood from the chair and took a few steps forward until she was standing in the shaft of light pouring in from the corridor through the half-open door. She smiled at me and, even with her slightly red, puffy eyes, I was taken aback by her beauty. She was a female version of Luke with gorgeous brown hair that tumbled in loose curls over her graceful shoulders. If we had an industrial fan blowing toward her, she’d look like a Victoria’s Secret model.
She held out her hand to me and I got a whiff of her soft perfume. “Nice to meet you, Brina.”
I shook her hand and nodded dumbly. “Nice to meet you, too. You’re so beautiful.”
She smiled, and my stomach flipped when I recognized the smile I’d seen on Luke’s face a thousand times. They must have seen the strange expression on my face, because they both chuckled at the same time and my eyes widened at the similarity of their laugh.
“I take it Luke didn’t tell you we’re twins.” She shook her head at him and he shrugged.
“It’s not like it’s a big secret,” he replied as he turned to me. “Come on. We have to get you something to eat.”
“No, you came to see your dad, not to take care of me. You go ahead, and I’ll find the cafeteria on my own.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I remembered the promise I’d made to stay by his side. I waited a moment, hoping the moment would pass and he would relent, but he continued to glare at me, and I knew he was not going to give in.
“Fine,” I muttered as I slid off the bed.
Reese looked appalled. “Geez, burn her with your laser eyes, why don’t you? Get a grip, Luke.”
“This is none of your business. Just go back to the room and we’ll be there in a few minutes.”
She rolled her eyes before she turned to leave. “Don’t pull that domineering shit on me. I still remember what age you were when you stopped wetting the bed.”
She disappeared into the corridor and I bit my lip as I tried not to laugh at her comment.
“Go ahead and laugh. Get it out. I was eight years old.” He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the door.
“Aw…that’s not so bad. I was five.”
He stopped at the door and grabbed my shoulders to turn me toward him. “Are you okay to go out there? ‘Cause I can get you a wheelchair if you think you’re going to pass out again.”
I suddenly remembered the memory that had overcome me before, or maybe while, I passed out. I curled my fingers around the front of his t-shirt as a tingling sensation spread from the tips of my fingers up to my shoulders. I closed my eyes, and Luke pulled me against him as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.
I pushed him back and shook my head as I gathered my strength. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
I wasn’t prepared for the scent of the hospital to bring back such overwhelming memories when we stepped through the entrance, but I was ready now. Well, maybe not ready, but I was prepared.
He kissed my forehead before he grabbed my hand. “Hold my hand tight; that way I’ll know something’s wrong if your hand goes slack. Okay?”
I smiled as I squeezed his hand and he squeezed mine in return. “You love me.”
“Maybe a little bit.”
He pulled me out into the corridor and my muscles stiffened as soon as the bright light hit my eyes. I held tightly to Luke’s hand so h
e wouldn’t worry, and together we walked down the corridor, the soles of my sneakers squeaking slightly as I dragged my feet. With every step, I forced myself to remember.
I remembered Ryan’s courage the day he admitted to me he wanted to join the military. I remembered his courage the day he kissed my mother goodbye as she fell to pieces in the front yard. And, though I once believed it to be an act of cowardice, I now recalled his courage the day he took his life. He was smiling that day because he knew his suffering would be over soon.
I forced myself to remember everything as I gripped Luke’s hand the way I’d gripped the railing on the bridge eight months ago. And that’s when I remembered the one thing I had forgotten. The one thing that seemed like nothing, but meant everything.
Ryan said he was going to call Lydia, but when I talked to Lydia after I got back from San Francisco, she claimed she hadn’t spoken to him in over two weeks. Who did he call? Why would my brother lie to me, when he knew what he was about to do?
Chapter 7
Luke
As soon as I felt Brina’s grip on my hand weaken, I wrapped my arm around her waist to catch her, but she wasn’t falling. The vacant stare on her face sent a chill through me. “What’s wrong?”
She looked right through me as she answered, “Who did he call?”
“What? Who are you talking about?” As soon as I asked the question, I knew the answer. I pulled her into a room that turned out to be a private office, but it was empty. I sat her in a chair in front of a desk that belonged to Dr. K. Simmons and grasped her hands. “Talk to me, Brina.”
She still looked dazed, and I stroked the backs of her hands with my thumbs to try to comfort her, because I didn’t know what else to do.
“If I could swallow all your pain, if I could make it my own…if I could take every ounce of regret you carry on your shoulders and shift that burden to me, I would do it in a heartbeat. You know that, don’t you?”
She finally blinked and nodded slowly.
“Talk to me.” I could feel her gently tugging her hands away, so I held on tighter.
“I know who he called. It was Jesse,” she whispered hoarsely, her body trembling as she struggled to release her hands from my grip. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him!”
I pulled her into my arms and she dug her fists into my chest as she tried to push me away. “I’m not letting you go until you calm down.”
“Stop! You don’t know what I’m talking about! Get off me!”
I held on tighter, but she tried to head-butt me as she attempted to stand from the chair.
“Calm down, Brina!” I shouted as I buried my face in her neck and lifted her off the chair.
She squirmed and kicked, but I held her too tightly for her to do any real damage. Within seconds, she tired and went limp against me, burying her face in my chest as the sound of her sobs echoed inside me. I slowly loosened my grip and waited for her to bolt or start fighting me again, but she just clutched my shirt against her face as she cried. I tilted her face up, and she turned her head so I couldn’t see her.
“Please stop,” she whispered.
“Stop what?”
“Stop being so nice.” She reached up and wiped at her face. “These aren’t sad tears. I’m really fucking pissed.”
“Why are you pissed?”
She closed her eyes and more tears rolled down her cheeks and over my hands. I tilted her face up again, but she kept her eyes closed.
“I’m pissed at Jesse for not calling me after he talked to Ryan.”
“Are you saying your brother called this guy, Jesse, that day?”
She nodded, and I suddenly understood why she’d gone into a fit of rage. If I found out someone had talked to someone I loved right before they took their life, I might be inclined to think, irrationally, that there was something the person could have done to stop it.
“Brina, you don’t even know what your brother said to him.” She sucked in a sharp breath and pushed my hands away, but I grabbed her arm before she could bolt. “Come on, babe, you need to stop doing this. First, you blame yourself, and now you’re blaming Jesse. Do you really think this is what your brother would have wanted?”
“What am I supposed to do?” She didn’t shout this question as I would have expected. She was actually expecting an answer—no, she was begging for one.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s been eight months. I’ve seen two therapists. I’ve read half a dozen books on grieving and PTSD and I still don’t know what to do. I’m still as clueless as I was that day, and that scares the hell out of me. Eight months…that’s how long it took me to remember a single detail about that phone call. How long am I supposed to keep remembering? How long before I can stop feeling like my life was ripped to shreds? I want to know, because I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired.”
I pulled her into my arms and her voice was muffled against my shirt as she continued to speak, but she made no effort to remove her face from my chest, so I held her tightly.
“You don’t have to know all the answers yet. It’s still soon,” I said, my lips brushing the top of her head. “But I’ll help you find those answers. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to help you find some peace.”
She pulled back a little, and I could feel the wet spot on my t-shirt growing. She looked up at me and my heart ached at the sight of her red, swollen eyes.
“I have never met a man like you.”
“And you’ll never meet another.”
She sniffled, but I got a small smile out of her.
“How can you even put up with me? I’m damaged goods. I shouldn’t even be here. You need to see your dad.”
She pushed away, and this time I let her. I wiped the dampness from her cheeks and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I don’t want to make you stay here to hang out with a dying man, and you need to eat. If I ask the driver to take you to the hotel, do you promise to order some room service and stay in the room until I get there?”
She nodded, but she looked completely defeated. I didn’t know if it was a good idea to leave her alone, but I knew she didn’t need to see my father on his deathbed right now. And I needed her to know I trusted her. She could meet my mother later.
I dialed the driver and walked her out to the curb in silence. The car pulled up, and I opened the door for her, but I grabbed her hand before she could get in.
“I’m proud of you for facing this the way you do,” I said before I kissed her cheek. “You’re stronger than you think you are.”
Chapter 8
Brina
I collapsed face first onto the bed in our hotel room and lay motionless as I tried to work up the courage to call room service. My stomach was in knots. I really didn’t want to eat. But I promised Luke I would, and I wasn’t going to go back to deceiving him. Besides, if I was as strong as he seemed to believe I was, I should be able to endure a few bites of solid food.
I sighed as I crawled toward the head of the bed and reached for the phone on the nightstand. I hit the room service button and waited as the ringing tickled my ear.
“Room service,” said a pleasant male voice.
“Uh…” I hadn’t even looked at the menu. “Can you bring up some soup and crackers, please?”
“Would you like tomato bisque, lobster chowder, Tuscan bean, or vegan vegetable?”
“Tomato bisque. Thank you.”
I hung up the phone and lay back. What was I going to do while I waited for Luke? It was only five-thirty. I couldn’t call Jill until after eight. I didn’t want to have to lie to her about where I was. I was determined for something positive to come out of this trip, because so far it was a disaster.
The truth was, with her feisty attitude and Milo’s no holds barred approach to business and sex, they were perfect for each other. Of course, the only issue would be hanging out with them if they did start dating. Luke hated Milo. But he hated him for the same reason he dumped me six weeks ago.
If he could forgive me, he would have to forgive Milo. Especially since Luke and I probably would never have found our way back to each other if it weren’t for Milo’s ingenuity and willingness to fork out $40,000 to get me into the developers’ conference.
I sat up, satisfied this wouldn’t be an issue, and dug my phone out of my purse. I scrolled through the names in my address book and stopped at Jesse’s. My finger hovered over the touchscreen as I tried to imagine what I would say, and what I shouldn’t say. I let my finger fall slowly toward the screen before I stopped myself.
I couldn’t call him. I hadn’t called him in over eight months. If I called him now and accused him of not doing enough to stop my brother from committing suicide, he would think I was crazy for waiting so long. Not to mention the fact he could have been just as clueless about Ryan’s plans as I was.
I had to let go.
I had to forgive myself.
I had to remember I had already been forgiven, many times.
I ate half the bowl of soup, curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to my belly, and quickly drifted off. When I woke, Luke was lying next to me, staring at my face.
“What time is it?”
“Half past nine. My father passed away an hour ago.”
I tossed the pillow I was clutching to the floor and threw my arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and dug his fists into my back. His arms shook with the force of trying to hold it together.
I squeezed him tighter and buried my face in the crook of his neck. “What can I do? Just tell me what you want me to do?”
He submerged his face in my hair and opened his fists so his hands were flat against me. “Just lay with me.”
His hands slid down my back and underneath my t-shirt. My skin prickled, and I sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers skimmed over the sensitive skin on my lower back. I pulled away and held his face in my hands. He was crying.
“I love you,” I said as his hands slid farther up my back and unclasped my bra. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Whatever will make you feel better, I’ll do it.”
