“Oh my God, my sweet boys. Are you two okay?”
Maybe I wasn’t in trouble?
“I’m okay,” I grunted and pushed myself up.
Why did girls always worry about stuff? We just fell down. It wasn’t a big deal. And now she was probably gonna rub spit in my face again. Or worse, kiss my cheeks over and over.
But I wasn’t the one she focused her attention on. When Micha sat up and a drop of blood trickled down from a cut on his cheek, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Micha,” Mom fell down to the ground and cupped his face. “You’re bleeding!”
He slapped at her hands and muttered, “I’m fine. Go away.”
“I don’t know, he fell really hard.” I tsked, “He might have a cusion.”
I’m not sure what a ‘cusion’ was, but I heard Silas’s dad talking about it and knew it happened when someone hit their head.
Mom immediately began fussing over my brother, twisting his head to the side to check him for more injuries. He clenched his jaw and rolled his dark glare my way. I just smiled back. Micha was not impressed.
I was definitely going to pay for that later. That was okay. Dad still had that paperweight. Besides, I had better things to do.
I looked over at the sandbox and narrowed my gaze on the boy kicking over my wife’s castle. No one picked on my wife. If he was going to make her cry, then I was going to make him cry. I jumped up, ran across the playground, and shoved him on the ground.
“Leave her alone!”
For a second when he blinked up at me, I thought he was going to argue, or hit me back. Then he looked over at Micha, who was trying to stop Mom from kissing his face. If Micha was mean to me, then he was really mean to people that picked on me. He said it was part of being a big brother. I thought it was annoying.
When the boy just stood up and walked away, I kind of wanted to push him down again. I didn’t need Micha to stick up for me. I could take care of myself.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Oh, right, my wife!
“Yes I did.”
I turned around and smiled down at her. She was a lot prettier close up. Her eyes glittered as the sun shone down on us, making it look like her skin was glowing. I didn’t even mind that she was crying. I just liked looking at her.
She brushed a tear off her cheek and sniffed back a sob. “No you didn’t.”
“Yes I did.” I puffed out my chest so she could see how strong I was. “All husbands should protect their wives.”
It was part of the job. Just like wives had babies, husbands made sure they were safe and had food.
Maybe I should get her a snack?
“But you’re not my husband.”
“I will be. Cause I picked you and my dad says so,” I insisted.
She sat back and looked at me for a second. “Do husbands help build sandcastles?”
I smiled and sat down beside her.
“Husbands build the bestest sandcastles.”
Addict.
I’d heard that a lot lately. From my brother, my friends, Lou, and the doctors at the clinic he’d locked me up in. They dubbed me with this term and talked about my addiction as if it was a bad thing. They said I was hurting myself. But was I?
