She laughs, but there’s a harsh edge to it. An edge that sounds like a sob. “Please go back inside.”
I should.
I should go back inside.
Instead, I find myself settling down beside her. My back to the railings, so I can see through the doors to where my brother sleeps.
And see her face.
Her jaw firms as she glances at me and then back to the ocean. “I’m regretting calling you already.”
There’s no heat in her words.
“Thank you.” I keep my eyes on Ben. “For calling.”
She swallows. “He… he forgot your number, you know. Notyou. Your phone number. He couldn’t remember the digits. Not until today. I tried to track you down, but you’re difficult to find.”
I could have come sooner.
Could have been here for longer.
I look at her then. Her face is pressed to the railing, her features shadowed. “I’m sorry I said all that.”
She half-shrugs. “Could’ve been true, I suppose.”
“It’s not, though.”
We sit silently.
“No,” she says at last. And I can hear the pain in her words. The fear. “No, it’s not.”
The silence stretches on.
I don’t look at her again for a long time. When I do, she’s asleep, her head leaning forward against the cold metal.
It looks uncomfortable.
I shift in place, debating.
Her head lolls back against my shoulder as I stand and bend down, carefully lifting her. I wait for her to wake up – brace for another argument – but she’s tired enough that she doesn’t move as I carry her inside and place her down on the couch, pulling a few of the blankets over her.
I snag one for myself, moving over to sit in the chair beside Ben.
And I settle in.
But I can’t stop my eyes flickering between them.
My brother.
And the girl that loves him.
27
Emmy
Sitting up, I slowly push the blankets away.
The apartment is silent. Ben is still sleeping, Jared sprawled in the chair beside him when I look over. I listen for a moment as I always do, reassured when I hear the rasp of Ben’s breathing.
