“I get that,” Ethan continues. “But don’t you think—”
“No.” I really was pissed as hell at Jackson, and we worked past it. But that doesn’t mean I want to get all warm and fuzzy with my father. That, in fact, is the last thing I want.
“Silly . . .” He trails off, leaving my nickname hanging in the air.
I pull out my phone and check the time. “Listen, I have to go,” I lie. “I told Jackson I’d meet him after drinks.”
“Shit, now you’re mad.”
“I’m not,” I say. “Really. Just don’t push me on this, okay?”
He hesitates, then nods. “Don’t,” he adds, when I start to put cash on the table. “I’ve got it.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later, all right?” I lean over and give Cass a hug. She squeezes tight, whispering, “Are you okay?” I nod in reply, then give her another squeeze.
Ethan stands as I leave, and I hug him close. “I love you. But I can’t deal with—”
“Yeah,” he says, then shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at the floor. “I know.”
I’m still not sure what’s up with my brother. I mean, I get that he wishes we could be one big, happy family. I wish that, too. Or I used to, a long time ago. But I’ve made peace with the fact that my parents are not and never will be part of my inner circle. Or, frankly, my outer circle. And I wish that Ethan could make peace with that, too. Because if he’s going to keep pushing on the parental reunion thing every time we get together, that’s going to get ugly.
I want my brother, but I really, really don’t want the baggage.
I’m in the car and firing up the engine when I see Ethan sprinting toward me. I’d parked next to my parents’ silver Camry, but I don’t think Ethan is racing for his car. No, he’s making a beeline to me.
I roll down my window. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know. I get that. I’m sorry,” he says. “Listen, can I get in for just a sec?”
“I—okay.” I adore my brother too much to deny him—or to stay mad at him. “Get in.”
He does, and then he just sits there. His hands are in his lap, and he’s picking at his cuticles. It’s a habit that he broke when he was a freshman in college, and seeing him doing it now only reinforces what I’ve already figured out—whatever he has to tell me, it’s bad. And while I’d started out thinking that this was about me or our father, now I’m wondering if there’s something else on his mind.
“Are you in trouble?” I ask.
“No—no, I’m fine. Well,” he adds with an odd little shrug, “I’m not fine. But that’s not the point. Oh, hell. Listen, I want to say I’m sorry about that. About Jackson’s little girl, I mean. It’s just that you surprised me. And I was on edge after the stuff with Dad yesterday, and—shit. Dammit, I wasn’t going to say anything about that. Fuck.”
“Is he sick? Come on, Ethan, you’re scaring me.” I may not have the greatest relationship with my dad—hell, I may not have any relationship with my dad—but I don’t wish him ill. If for no other reason than I know that losing our father would hurt Ethan.
Beside me, my brother takes a deep breath. And then, very fast, he says, “He told me.”
For a moment, I truly don’t have any idea what Ethan is talking about. But then the horror sets in. My stomach twists into a knot, and my hand slowly rises to my mouth. I want to cry out, to protest, but I can’t seem to form words.
“Oh, god, Syl. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his forehead in his hands. He’s breathing hard. He may be crying.
“Why?” My whispered word is muffled behind my hand, and I’m surprised I can even force it out. I’m no longer real. I’m ice. I’m frozen. Trapped someplace harsh and unfair. Someplace where secrets are revealed and nightmares are relived and it never, ever stops no matter how much you think you’ve gotten past it all.
That one word keeps running through my head—why why why why why—and there’s nothing else. Just darkness and betrayal and the haunting pull of my nightmares.
It’s not until I feel Ethan’s hands on my shoulders and hear him saying, “Syl? Dammit, Syl—oh, hell, oh, shit,” that I realize I’ve gone away. And although I don’t want to, I know I have to come back. Because this is Ethan and I love him, and I never wanted him to know how much I suffered. But now he knows, because his words have kicked me under.