“It meant,” I said slowly, voice rough, “that I was a kid, but I never got to be a kid. Every night, every damn argument, I was the one standing in the middle. Begging him to stop. Begging you, Mama, to say something. Begging Mav not to walk out the door and never come back.”
The words spilled, jagged and hot. “Daddy hated who Maverick was. Hated it so loud the whole house felt it. Every slur, every cruel word, it didn’t just hit him; they hit me, too, because I had to pick up the pieces. I had to make sure he knew somebody loved him, even if it wasn’t you, Daddy. Even if you were too busy trying to tear him down.”
Daddy’s lips pressed into a thin line. For once, though, he didn’t shoot back. Hishands shook where they rested on his knees.
“And you, Mama.” I turned, my chest aching. “You stayed quiet. You told yourself you were keeping the peace, protecting us, but all it did was make me carry it alone. I was a teenager, but I was parenting and refereeing, holding the damn house together, while he destroyed it. I didn’t get to be reckless. I didn’t get to be soft. I had to control everything, because if I didn’t, nobody would.”
The tears hit before I could stop them. Hot, blinding. My voice cracked as the words tumbled out. “And now? That’s who I am. The man who has to keep everything under control. Every job, every room, every part of me. Because if I let go for one second, everything falls apart.”
The silence after was brutal.
Mama’s face crumpled first, her voice breaking. “Oh, James. I never thought… I never let myself think about what it was doing to you. I was drowning, baby. I thought if I stayed quiet, if I took it, at least he wouldn’t turn it on you. I thought you were safe.” Her tears slid down her cheeks. “I see now you weren’t. And I’m so, so sorry.”
I forced myself to look at Daddy. For once, his eyes weren’t cold steel. They were wet, rimmed with red. His voice came out low, cracked. “I was wrong. All of it. The drinking, the way I treated your mama, the way I treated Maverick. I thought I was teaching you boys how to be strong, how to be men. But I made you fight battles you should’ve never fought. I made you choose between honoring me and loving your brother, and I never stopped to see what that cost you. I never meant to make you… old before your time.”
I swallowed hard, shoulders trembling. I wanted to be stone, but I was crumbling.
Then Maverick leaned forward, his voice low but steady. “J… I need to say something too.” His eyes were shining now, wet at the corners. “I spent years thinking you weren’t really in my corner. That you were siding with him, or just trying to keep the Carter name clean. I didn’t see it. I didn’t see how hard you were fighting for me. For us.”
I shook my head, words stuck in my throat, but he kept going.
“You never wavered,” he said, his voice rough. “You showed up. At my games, at my lowest nights when I couldn’t even stand to look at myself. You were there. You’ve always been my best fucking friend, James. My brother, yeah, but also my anchor. And I hate that you’ve been carrying all that weight for us. I hate that I let you.”
His hand found mine, strong and shaking. “But you don’t have to anymore. I’m good now, Mama’s here, doing the work, and Dad,” he flicked a glance at James Sr., “is not only trying but actually doing the work, too. We’re in a better place. You don’t have to keep being the referee. You get to breathe, you get to live, and you get to love without gripping so tight to control that it chokes you.”
That was it. The dam broke.
The sob ripped out of me before I could stop it. My whole body shook, years of pressure and silence cracking open at once. I felt Maverick’s arms around me first, then another set, rougher, heavier. Daddy. His chest shook against mine, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
For the first time in my life, I felt them both holding me. Not fighting, not pulling me in opposite directions, just holding me up while I let it all out.
When the worst of it passed, I leaned back, swiping at my face, trying to breathe. My chest felt raw, hollow, yet lighter somehow.
“Damn,” I muttered, voice still thick. “Look at me. Cryin’ like a baby in here.”
Maverick gave a shaky laugh, squeezing my shoulder. “You earned it.”
And even Daddy nodded, wiping his own eyes. “Ain’t nothing weak about those tears, son. Not a damn thing.”
Today, I chose to believe him.
The bass at Noire shook the floor, bringing me back from my thoughts. It was heavy enough to rattle the glasses behind the bar, but it couldn’t shake loose the ache in my chest. I sat there with a bourbon sweating in my palm, staring at the amber swirl, still feeling the echo of therapy earlier.
I couldn’t stop replaying it. My voice cracking, Mama crying, Daddy, of all people, saying the words I was wrong, and Maverick, my big brother, my rival, the man I had been like a shadow to, calling me his best friend, on top of telling me he loved me, telling me I didn’t have to carry the weight of his trauma anymore.
That part stayed with me. You get to breathe now. You get to love without control.
I wanted to believe him. God, I did. But control was my armor. Without it… who the hell was I?
“Bruh,” Calil’s voice cut through the noise, dragging me back. He was leaning up against the bar, drink in one hand, grin wide. “You sittin’ there lookin’ like somebody stole your dog. What’s up with you?”
I shook my head, forcing a small smile. “Long weekend.”
Maverick smirked from across the booth, swirling his bourbon. “Long weekend… or long legs?”
The table erupted. Ahmir laughed, “I’d take long legs over a long weekend, any day of the week”. Knox just gave me that slow, knowing look, like he could see right through me.
I groaned, tugging at my tie again. “Y’all don’t make anything easy.”
