Shouldn’t Want You: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance

by Monroe, Lilian

  “Okay.”

  Are you mad? Do you hate me? Have I lost my chance to be with you?

  I don’t ask any of it, because I’m scared. I’m scared that the truth is a resounding ‘yes’ to all three questions, and I’ll never be able to recover from it.

  I clear my throat. “What exactly do you mean by space? Can I see you?”

  Her brows draw together, and my heart thumps hard. She lets out a pained sigh. “I need some time for myself, Sacha. A few days. I need to get my head straight. Max’s wedding is in two weeks, and I can’t be hung up on shit that happened ten years ago. I want to move on.”

  A dagger slices through my heart. Do I fall into the category of ‘shit that happened ten years ago’? Does she want to move on from me?

  “Okay,” I say, the words torn from my throat. “I won’t call you. Just…text me when you’re ready. Please, Willow.” I’m not a man who begs, but I’m begging her right now. I don’t want her to push me away.

  When Willow gives me a tight nod and pinches her lips, I almost break down. She closes the door. The click of the latch knocks me right in the center of the chest, and it’s the only answer I need.

  Our pasts are too tangled. I should have known when I first came back. I should have listened to my instincts instead of my heart.

  I should have stayed gone.

  I opened myself up to her and let myself hope that I could have something more. I let myself believe that I deserved her love.

  But at the end of the day, the baggage we carry is too heavy. I left her here, on her own, at the time she needed me most. Who am I to come back and demand her affection?

  My shoulders hunch as I make my way to my car. I drive slowly, drumming my hands on the steering wheel.

  I need to make this right. A hungry kind of desperation grows in the pit of my stomach, and I know I need to show Willow that I’m not the scared kid who ran away, when he should have stayed and fought.

  I’m staying. I’m fighting.

  29

  Sacha

  The week that follows my father’s funeral is agony.

  Not because of grief. Not because I’m struggling to cope with the loss of the abusive asshole who terrorized my childhood.

  Because Willow shuts me out. She doesn’t call. Doesn’t text. Doesn’t come see me at the hotel.

  I won’t lie, I drive by her house a couple of times. I spend lots of time with Max and Isabelle in the vain hope that Willow will walk through the front door.

  She doesn’t.

  Max notices something is off.

  “Where’s Willow?” he asks at the end of the week as we crack open a couple of beers. “You guys were attached at the hip before.”

  “Working, I think,” I answer vaguely, because that’s what I want to believe. Max frowns, his eyes boring into mine. He knows I’m not telling him something, but doesn’t know what.

  I’m desperate to tell him about tearing the Black business apart, but Nolan has been especially insistent that I keep things quiet this week, when we’re so close to taking action. Once we dissolve the business, he says, that will be the time to talk.

  Still, it’s hard to keep quiet. After a decade of silence, the last few days are torture.

  I guess it’s exactly what I deserve.

  Max lets out a sigh, clearly not willing to confront me about Willow. If he knew she wasn’t talking to me, he wouldn’t be having a beer with me. He’d probably smash it over my head.

  My best friend puts his bottle in the recycling bin and stretches his arms over his head, and I know it’s my cue to leave.

  “I’d better get going,” I say, swigging the rest of my beer. I don’t mention I’m going back to the hotel, and not to Willow’s place.

  “Yeah, Izzy and I have a lot of stuff to do. Wedding’s next weekend.”

  I nod. There’s distance between Max and me now, too, and I hate it. I hate every second of it, but I have no one to blame but myself. If I’d stayed and told the truth, this wouldn’t be happening.

  “Call me if you need anything,” I say, knowing he won’t call.

  “Yeah, no problem. Hey, when you see Willow, can you tell her to swing by tonight? Isabelle and I wanted to finalize some of the details for the wedding.”

  I force a smile. “Sure.”

  He claps me on the back and waves me away. My chest tightens. Max wouldn’t be happy if he knew I hadn’t talked to Willow all week. I told him I’d never hurt her, and then I proceeded to tear her heart to shreds.

  I pull out my phone and find her number.

  Sacha: Hey. Just letting you know that your brother wants to talk to you about wedding stuff tonight.

  My heart skips a beat when I see three little dots appear beneath my text. She’s seen it, and she’s answering. The dots disappear, and then reappear again. I stand in Max’s driveway, staring at my phone and trying not to hyperventilate.

  Finally, the text comes through.

  Willow: Okay. Thanks.

  My heart sinks. I don’t know what I expected, but it was something more than that. With a sigh, I get in my car and drive to the hotel.

  In my email inbox, there’s a message from Nolan. He’s compiled the files from my USB with more recent files that I accessed once the business passed on to me. He’s written a report and a proposed plan for dissolving the business and contacting the IRS, pending my approval. What follows is a long, long night of staring at pages and pages of documents. I go through his reports, trying to decipher legal jargon until my head hurts and my eyes feel like they’re bleeding.

  Blinking rapidly, I clear my vision. This is important. If Willow won’t talk to me, these dense legal documents are my best chance at redeeming myself.

  Around two o’clock in the morning, I collapse into bed.

  When I wake up, there’s a missed call on my cell phone. Nolan Gallagher. He’s sent a text as well. It just says Call me back.

  My hands tremble when I pick up my phone.

  “Hey, Nolan,” I say when he answers.

  “Sacha. How are you feeling?”

  “Nervous.”

  It’s the truth. My nerves are wound up so tight that I feel like anything would set me off. I’m nervous about repercussions from the Woodvale community. I’m nervous about my mother’s future.

  I’m nervous that even after all this, Willow won’t see beyond the past, and I’ll lose any chance I have at true happiness.

  A familiar instinct inside me calls for me to stop. To hide. To run away. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake the thought away.

  I’m not a coward, and I’m not going anywhere. Not again.

  I just hope that’s enough for Willow. That by my sacrifice of my father’s business and inheritance, she might be able to heal.

  And maybe, that I’ll heal from it, too.

  “How soon can you be in Seattle?” Nolan says, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Seattle?” I repeat.

  “Yes, Seattle,” he answers, as if I’m dense. “I need to see you in person. We need to go through everything together to make sure you’re happy, and then I need your signature. Then, we take down your father’s legacy and help you move on from his criminal ways.”

  I take a deep breath, feeling the gravity of the situation. This is it. This is where my father’s influence on Woodvale, me, my mother, the Wises ends. This is the end of him. Death after death.

  I clear my throat. “Okay. I’ll book a flight tonight.”

  “Good. And, Sacha, more than ever now, I need you to keep quiet a little bit longer. We’re almost there. Tell no one about this.”

  “Okay.”

  “No one,” he repeats, suddenly serious. “Not your mother, not your girlfriend, not your fucking dog. You hear me? If you start talking about wanting to tear down your father’s business, you have no idea what kind of creatures will come out of the woodwork to try to stop you. You think that people won’t talk, but they do. They just can’t help themselves. A lot of peopl
e made a lot of money off him, and they don’t care that he was committing fraud. A lot of people knew, and they did nothing. This is serious.”

  I let out a breath, nodding. “All right. Understood.”

  “Not a word.”

  “Yep. Nothing,” I say, trying to sound sincere. My thoughts turn to Willow. If she were speaking to me, I’d definitely tell her.

  Maybe it’s best that she needed space.

  Nolan gives me a few more details and puts my mind at ease. All I can do is move forward. If I’m going to show Willow—and myself—that I’m strong enough to face what my father did, and strong enough to stick by her side, I need to do this.

  I hang up the phone and let out a breath, and then I book the next flight from Woodvale to Seattle.

  Once that’s done, I lie back on the hotel bed and let out a sigh. It’s almost the end.

  I jump when someone starts banging on the door.

  “Sacha,” Max’s voice yells. “Open the fucking door, you lying sack of shit.”

  My blood ices. He’s mad. The banging continues until I unlock the door and pull it open. Max’s red face greets me, anger flashing in his eyes.

  “What the fuck did you do to my sister?” He shoves me back into the room, stalking toward me like a predator. “Answer me.”

  “Max, wait.” I hold up my hands.

  “Don’t fucking tell me to wait. What the fuck did you do? Why does she look like she’s aged ten years in a week? Why did the thought of planning my wedding make her burst into tears? You think you can come to my fucking wedding when you hurt my sister like that? Who the fuck do you think you are? You had a drink with me last night like nothing was wrong, and then I learn today that you’re a fucking liar? That you hid things from us for years?”

  My heart cracks as pain splinters through my ribs. I grimace, putting a hand to my chest. I hate the thought of hurting Willow. I can feel her slipping away from me, and now I’ll lose Max, too.

  “Can you sit down, please?” I say, motioning to the chair beside Max.

  His eyes flash, but he complies. He leans back in the chair, shooting daggers at me as I try to find the right words.

  With a deep breath, I get ready to confess my deepest shame for the second time.

  “I told her the truth,” I finally say.

  Then, the words start tumbling out. This time, when I tell Max, I don’t hold back. I tell him about seeing his mother in a chokehold and attacking my father. I don’t leave out any details. I tell him about the look in my father’s eye when he told me he could give Willow the scholarship if I left.

  Max already knew about my father’s abuse. I’d told him when we were kids. We used to hide from my father together.

  But he didn’t know about his mother’s threats. He didn’t know about the documents, or about Willow’s scholarship.

  I lift my eyes up to my best friend, feeling my heart breaking for the millionth time this week. “I had to go, Max. I had to stay quiet because I was afraid of what he would do to you if I didn’t. Willow’s scholarship was her best chance at changing her life. I don’t know if it was the right thing. Maybe I’m just a coward, but, Max, you have to believe me when I say I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  As I tell my story, Max’s anger slowly fades. His shoulders drop, and the tension in his body unwinds. When he finally meets my gaze, his eyes are so full of sadness and grief that it takes my breath away.

  I can’t take a full breath, because my chest is too tight. I expect him to get up and walk away, leaving me with the grief of losing the love of my life and my best friend in the same week.

  But he doesn’t. Max gets up off the chair and wraps his arms around me. It’s only when he starts shaking that I realize he’s sobbing. Then, for the first time since I was a small child, I start to cry with him.

  It pours out of me, and I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to stop. All the fear, and the shame, and the anxiety comes gushing out of me as my best friend props me up.

  Sniffling, Max pulls away and wipes his face. When he looks at me, his eyes are clear, bright blue. “You did that for us?” he says, his voice squeaking.

  “Did what?”

  “Left your entire life behind? You did that so my sister could go to college?”

  I shake my head. I’m not a hero. “If I’d stayed, maybe I could’ve changed things. I could’ve spoken out. I was a coward for turning my back on you when I had all the information to put my father in jail. I could’ve—”

  “Stop, Sacha.” Max lets out a sigh. “We were kids. You couldn’t have done shit. Leaving your entire life, your family, your friends, with no money and no plan… That takes a lot of balls. You made something of yourself while you carried this shit with you.” Max drops his gaze, shaking his head. “Willow going to college was the one thing that kept my parents going. They kept working these crazy hours, knowing that her life would be better. I looked at her and saw a future. You gave us hope, Sacha.”

  “I didn’t.” I shake my head. I won’t accept his praise. I can’t. I feel too much guilt to hear what he’s telling me.

  Max lets out a breath. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m going to Seattle.” I hear Nolan’s words, but I choose to ignore them. I’m sick of carrying secrets. Max deserves the truth. “I’ve been working with a lawyer to dismantle my father’s investment brokerage. It’s going to happen this week, or maybe early next week. I’m tearing his legacy down and speaking out about the kind of man he was.”

  Max’s eyes shine as a grin spreads across his lips. “You always were a fucking badass, Black.”

  “Willow doesn’t see it that way,” I say, giving him a bitter smile.

  “She’ll come around.” Max puts his hand on my shoulder.

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head.

  “Trust me,” Max says with a sad smile. “She will. You can’t stay mad at someone who sacrificed his whole life for you. She’ll come back to you.” My best friend pulls me in for another hug.

  As my friend shows me an immense amount of love and grace, I let myself believe that he’s right. I believe him when he says I’m not a coward. I start the long process of forgiving myself.

  Most importantly, I let myself hope that he’s right about Willow. She’ll come around. She has to.

  30

  Willow

  I feel like an idiot. A heartbroken idiot.

  In mere weeks, Sacha came into my life like a hurricane and tore everything to pieces. Now, I’m sitting here like a fool, wondering what exactly happened and where everything went wrong.

  I feel a bit like a jerk. Sacha was honest with me and told me why he left. He apologized. I should be okay with it, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Apologizing doesn’t change the fact that it happened. Explaining it doesn’t make the pain go away.

  Retreating into myself, I build my walls back up. This is exactly why I don’t open up to men or let them in. I only end up getting hurt.

  The most I’ve heard from him all week is one text, telling me my brother wanted to see me. He’s definitely giving me space. I can’t tell if I’m grateful for it or unbelievably sad. I plow through four jumbo bags of lollipops and about seventeen pounds of sour gummy worms over the course of the week. My stomach hurts all the time.

  Yes, I know. I’m a mess.

  I jump when the doorbell rings. A few seconds later, Nadia pokes her head through the door.

  “Hey, Willow.” She walks in, kicking her shoes off and joining me on the couch. “Got your text. How was your day?”

  “Fine.” I smile. “Just finalized stuff with Isabelle and Max for the wedding next weekend.”

  “It’s Sunday,” she says, throwing me a glance. “You should take some time off once in a while. Last weekend, you had the funeral, and you’ve been working a wedding for the past twelve weeks straight. You need a break.”

  “Got to pay the bills,” I say, forcing a smile. I’m pretty sure it looks more l
ike a grimace.

  “How have you been since the funeral anyway? I haven’t seen you all week.”

  “I didn’t go.”

  “Oh.” Nadia brings her leg up, resting her chin on her knee. Her sharp, green eyes stare at me. “Is everything okay?”

  I blow the air out of my mouth, shrugging. “I don’t really know.”

  “Where’s the lover boy?”

  “Don’t know that either.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  I give her a dry chuckle, shaking my head. “I swear some voodoo witch has a little blond doll with a bunch of pins stuck in it. That’s the only thing I can think of to explain what a shitshow my life has become.”

  Nadia chuckles and then tilts her head. “What happened?”

  I tell her about Sacha’s revelation. About my mother wanting to expose Alastair Black’s corruption, and Sacha leaving after his father threatened him.

  “I’ve spent the past ten years of my life wondering where it all went wrong. I didn’t know why my parents left their jobs. I didn’t know why my family was suddenly treated like lepers. I didn’t know why it was so hard to get my business off the ground.”

  “You didn’t know why Sacha left.”

  “That too.”

  Nadia lets out a sigh, shaking her head. “That’s pretty heavy stuff.”

  “I’m not even sure how to feel. In my head, I know I can’t blame Sacha for the past. He was just a kid, too. He was probably trying to protect himself from his father. I can’t fault him for that. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with a father like that.”

  “Right.” Nadia tucks a curl of bright, copper hair behind her ear.

  “But it just feels…tainted.” I spit the word out, staring at a spot on the floor. “Like, is that really the kind of man I want to be with? One who just runs from his problems?”

  I slump in the sofa, squeezing my eyes shut. My thoughts are swirling around, and the only thing that makes sense to me right now is to retreat. Protect myself. Put up my defenses. Armor my heart against any possible hurt.

  Trust in the one thing that I’ve always trusted in: myself.