“I’m not a cynic or a pessimist when it comes to all of that stuff,” I said defensively. “I’m just a realist.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“More than fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. Infidelity is one of the top reasons.” I parked a hand on my hip. “I’m doing my clients a service by getting them the answers they seek.”
“Yeah, and what about you?”
“What about me?”
“When’s the last time you were in a relationship?”
I narrowed my gaze at my twin. When had the tables turned, and this conversation had become about me?
“Why are you all up in my business?”
For the first time that night, a genuine smile appeared on his face. “Hmm, you don’t like it when I start questioning you about your business, but it’s okay for you to be in mine?”
I frowned. “I date here and there. No one important enough to bring home or tell you about. So, for now, I don’t have any news to tell in that area of my life.”
I almost choked on my saliva when an image of Don popped into my head.
Shaking it off, I refocused on Corey.
“You know I push you because I miss you, right?” I asked him. “I know what happened is hard for you, but it feels like you’ve checked out.”
Corey and I had been close before his accident. Since he’d gotten hurt, it was like he kept an invisible wall around him. He’d grown darker and more withdrawn. My typically outgoing, extroverted brother now spent his days inside, only leaving the house to go to doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, and the gym.
He peered down at the floor before laying his head back against the headboard. He turned toward the television, mounted on the wall, and hit the button on the remote to turn it on.
“I’m still right fucking here, J.”
I had to fight myself from pressing further. I bit down on my tongue to keep from asking what went on in his mind. At this point, it wouldn’t do any good. The shuttered look on his face told me he was done talking.
I left his room and headed for the kitchen. My mother welcomed me with a smile as she stood at the sink, washing dishes.
“You know, we have a dishwasher for that,” I said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“I enjoy doing dishes. It allows me to think.”
I shivered. “Not me.”
She laughed. “I’m aware. I’ve lost count of all the dishes you broke trying to race to get them done so you could go out and play ball with the boys or get to the next practice.”
“Yeah, and all the time, you put me on punishment by making me do dishes for weeks at a time.” I grabbed the dish of Tupperware containing the curry chicken and rice my mother had put aside for me from the refrigerator.
“You need to thank me. If I truly wanted to punish you, I would’ve had you cook dinner for all of us.”
I gave her a horrified expression. “You wouldn’t.”
She laughed and swatted me.
“Bye, Mama.”
I tossed her a wave and headed out.
Once home,I quickly changed into one of my loungewear sets and put my food away before settling on the couch in the living room of my condo.
It was only approaching nine o’clock, and I was restless after dinner at my mother’s. Tuesdays always ended with me feeling bummed. Tuesday was the one day of the week that all three of us got together for dinner. Even before Corey’s accident.
