The shower water began to cool, shifting my attention back to the present.
I wanted to touch myself, but I didn’t dare. Aside from the fact that Jake was downstairs, I couldn’t find relief the only way I’d grown to know. I’d spent years losing myself in women and climaxing—using my brother’s leftovers, my own conquests, Bess, and my own hand.
Now I knew I needed to surrender to the pain and relieve myself of the responsibility, rather than masking the pain with substitutes. That was the only way I could move on.
And that was what I’d been doing until Jake showed up.
“So, what do you want, Jake? Money? Help with your latest piece of tail? What is it this time?” I asked as I walked back into the kitchen.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” I said as I opened the fridge. Grabbing a bottle of water, I guzzled it and tossed it into the trash.
“Well, what is it? Why you so quiet all of a sudden?” I asked Jake.
“Listen, Lane. Honestly, I’m just worried about you. Have been for some time.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, unable to keep the anger from my tone. “That’s how Bess ended up on my doorstep before I tossed her out like the trash. That was your fucking fault. I wanted to be alone.”
I sat on the stool across from him, both of us with our elbows on the island, mirror images of each other except for the hair ... and beard. I was doing everything in my power to separate myself from that fuck.
“Bess is doing okay, by the way.”
I stood, slamming my hands onto the counter. “What the fuck? How are you still seeing her?” Agitated, I spun around and started pacing. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
He completely disregarded what I said and answered anyway. “She’s been spending time with Camper, who got the job with me. We’ve all hung out a little. She worries about you constantly. Even when she’s not asking, I see it in her face.”
Jealousy raged inside me, whipping and licking at my skin, fighting to come out and play.
“Shut the fuck up, Jake. You don’t deserve to hang out with her. You don’t deserve to be here, either. Because if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this god-awful place. My soul is black because of you. Our whole lives were ruined by your mistake, and I’m supposed to take that shit to the grave?”
My brother stood up, matching my height inch for inch. “That’s another reason why I’m here. I need to say I’m sorry for that.”
“Sorry?” I yelled, sweeping my hand across the island, sending napkins and little knickknacks my housekeeper always left out flying across the room. “For what, Jake? Say it,” I said, taunting him, knowing the words would never make it over his lips.
“You know.”
“See! I fucking knew you couldn’t say it. Say it, Jake! Say what you’re sorry for!”
We were in each other’s faces, our eyes the same, our noses exactly alike, but our hearts were not. His was lifeless, like always. Dead. I wondered if he even had a pulse. While mine was shattered and glued back together just enough for me to function in day-to-day living.
“Why do I have to say it?” he yelled back.
“Because you have to own it, Jake. I’m sick of walking around with it in my back pocket.” I was so furious I was practically foaming at the mouth. I could feel spit flying around my beard, my hands were shaking, and my knees were weak.
Suddenly done with it all, I said, “Oh, fuck it, what the hell does it mean now. Great, you’re sorry.” I stepped back, dismissing Jake. “Go back home.”
He walked forward, gripping my shoulders with his hands, caging me in with his arms. “I’m sorry, Lane.” And then through gritted teeth, he said, “For doing what I did. I shouldn’t have done that. I was just playing, and I didn’t know any better. And well, you know ... Shirley fell asleep and you didn’t want to play with me.”
“Say it, Jake.”
I was losing patience; I’d never loved and hated another person more in my life. We shared blood and some innate bond as twins, so I couldn’t cut off my caring for him. But compassion was hard to find when it came to Jake.
He broke free from me, taking a step backward and then another. “It was my fault. All of it. The accident. It was all me. I played with the car, pretended to be fixing stuff that I had no business messing with, all because I wanted to be like Dad. Oh shit. Dad ... he’s gone because of me.” Then he bent over like a runner trying to catch his breath after a race, and said between raspy breaths, “Okay, you happy? I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m not okay,” I spit out. “I’ve carried that shit around with me for years. When I was little, I worried they would take you away from me. When I was older, I was worried others would judge me like I’d judged myself all these years. I’m so ashamed. We killed our own parents.” Doing my damnedest to hold my shit together, I sat down and cradled my forehead in my hands.
Jake stepped next to me and rested a hand on my back. “You were an innocent bystander. A kid, Lane. We were the same age. I did what I did, and you had no power over me to stop me. You were the well-behaved brother, the one who went in our room and played Legos while I single-handedly ruined our lives while Shirley slept.Speaking of her—”
Not allowing him to finish, I interrupted. “That’s what my therapist has said since I moved here, that I was an innocent bystander. But I needed to hear it from you.”
“You don’t think I don’t walk around with this in my soul, burning my gut all the fucking time? It was me!” Jake said softly, almost a whisper in my ear as he bent over and leaned on the island.
“I see it. It’s why I’m always cleaning up your messes, excusing your lousy behavior. I can’t imagine ...”
My eyes stung, and I felt tears fill my eyes. It had been a long time since I’d felt that. Looking up at my twin, I saw that Jake’s eyes were wet too.
Right there in the middle of my kitchen, my brother and I finally had a reckoning that was twenty years in the making. We fell apart, dissolving into bits and pieces of emotion that scattered around the room.
As I lifted my hand to swipe away my tears, I wondered if we would be able to put ourselves back together.
