I dive into a long-winded explanation of how we got to where we are today, which is me currently throwing clothes into a suitcase aggressively.
When I’m done talking, I stand, hand on my hip, in front of my bed, waiting for his reaction.
“Wow,” he replies neutrally. “That’s … not what I expected.”
“I know. It’s absolutely crazy. And he is acting like a baby himself, not able to figure out how to make a bottle or change a diaper. Now, he claims he doesn’t know how to interview a nanny and needs my help.”
Dad catches me off guard by chuckling on the other end of the line. “That’s not that crazy.”
“What do you mean? Of course it is,” I demand.
“Men don’t have that natural instinct when it comes to babies. If he hasn’t been around a baby before, I can see why he would feel helpless. I certainly would.”
“Get out of here. You’re a great dad. A natural.”
“I appreciate that, but I can assure you when your brother was born … I was terrified. I didn’t know a thing about what to do with a baby. I was afraid I would hurt him somehow.”
I roll my eyes. I wanted my dad to make me feel better. This isn’t what I had in mind.
“I’m just saying,” he continues, “go easy on the guy. He has a lot on his plate at the moment and could use a break. I think it’s great that you’re helping him. He’s a good kid. I’ve always liked him.”
It may come off as completely immature, but I’m not thrilled about the fact that my own father likes the one man who doesn’t deserve his approval. If only he knew the way Walker has treated me. How he uses women and tosses them out like they mean nothing to him.
Since I can’t exactly share our whole sordid history, I decide getting off the phone is my best bet. I’m in no mood for a Walker praise fest.
“That’s great. Hey, Dad. I’m sorry, but I have to run.”
“All right, Jessie. I miss you.”
“Miss you too. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I hang up the phone and hang my head in defeat. Am I the only one who’s seen the dark side of Walker? It’s like everybody around me thinks he’s this stand-up guy. It’s frustrating, being his sister’s best friend. I wish I could just hate the guy and never see his face again.
But even I know those words aren’t exactly true. There’s a deep, sick part of me that is glad I still have a reason to keep him in my life. What kind of twisted torture is that? I think I might need to see a therapist about this. It can’t be healthy.
I get to Walker’s place fifteen minutes later, knocking on his door with a big suitcase and tote bag. He opens the door, and my body instantly forgets how to breathe.
He is standing in front of me in low-hanging black athletic shorts. That’s it! Nothing else! Lines and lines of tanned muscle everywhere. Ridges on his stomach, on his arms, his chest.
When I finally have my wits about me, I realize he looks pissed. I should be the one who’s furious. He has no right, parading that kind of body in front of me.
“Jessie”—his deep voice pulls me from my thoughts—“don’t look at me like that.”
It’s like a slap in the face. It feels like I’m eighteen all over again. The pain is sharp and piercing. “Fuck you, Walker.”
I walk in past him and try my hardest not to cry right here in front of him. I don’t understand why the idea of me and him together is so repulsive to him.
A flashback from nine years ago hits me like a sudden force to the chest.
I’m so happy my parents agreed to a joint graduation party with Eva. Having it at her parents’ house means that I get to see Walker. He’s staying for the weekend, then going back to the city, where he is currently in law school.
I love picking his brain when he comes home. I’ve known him since I was twelve. Back then, I was a scrawny kid who idolized boy bands and didn’t know the first thing about law.
But after taking a class sophomore year as an elective, I became enamored. I still remember the case that broke me and solidified in my mind that this was what I wanted to do for a living.
One night, when Walker was visiting home from undergrad, I talked to him about it after Eva fell asleep. We talked until four in the morning. I told him about how the case kept me awake at night, wondering how our legal system could have failed someone so drastically.
It was about a girl whose mother had passed years prior and she was left with a drunk, abusive father. Even though her aunt petitioned for custody and there was plenty of evidence of abuse and neglect, the court favored the father with money and power.
