He rocked me back and forth as he sifted his fingers through my hair to soothe and comfort me. I didn’t know how long we stayed like that before I stopped crying and just lay in the circle of his arms with my head against his chest.
“Here I thought theIndiana Jonesmovies were comedies, not tragedies.” I knew Miller was attempting to lighten up the moment and I appreciated it more than he could ever know, but I was humiliated that I was unable to keep in control of my emotions.
“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.” I lifted my head from Miller’s chest and tried to move away from him, but he pulled me back.
“You didn’t ruin anything, Jag.” He dropped a soft kiss on the top of my head. “I wanted to spend it with you, and that hasn’t changed.” Miller rubbed his hand up and down my back until I relaxed into him. “I’ve always known you were hiding a lot of sadness inside, and I’m always willing to listen if you want to talk. I promise what you tell me will stay between us, just like Vegas.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle over his Vegas joke, but I knew that I could trust Miller without his promise. At first, I didn’t want to take him up on his offer. I wanted to pretend my breakdown hadn’t happened and continue on with our night. Then I realized I was so damn tired of pretending.
“My brother’s name was Will.” It hurt so bad to say his name out loud. It felt like Mola Ram had punched through my chest and ripped out my heart with his bare hand. “He was only five years old when he died in a fire.”
“Oh, Jag.” Miller’s arms tightened around me, anchoring me against his chest. “I’m so sorry.” I heard his sorrowful condolence, but I didn’t stop to acknowledge it. I knew that if I stopped telling the story, I might not start again. I wanted to heal and stop hurting, and telling Will’s story was the first step toward healing.
“My mom wasn’t June Cleaver by any stretch of the imagination. She brought one abusive bastard into our home after another. I spent my entire childhood living in fear of being beaten by her latest lover or starving to death when they got tired of pounding on her and moved on. It was a vicious cycle she just couldn’t break until one of her boyfriends turned his anger on me one night when I stepped in to stop him from hitting her.” I shuddered at the memory of being hit repeatedly with a belt while white hot rage built inside me. “I was thirteen or fourteen and really big for my age. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I dug deep and came up swinging. I gave that asshole a taste of his own medicine, and he was the one that left our house bloody and limping.” I remembered feeling pride pierce through my fear as I watched that asshole speed off down the road as I yelled at him to never come back.
“Something changed my mom for the good that night, Miller. She stopped drinking and started working two jobs instead of relying on loser men to help us get by. I started doing lawn care and odd jobs for our neighbors to help. My mom was really trying to turn her life around, and my resentment toward her slowly started to turn into respect. A month later, she discovered she was pregnant.” I shook my head and smiled sadly when I remembered how upset I was that I was going to have a little baby brother or sister to look after when she was working. “I wasn’t too thrilled,” I confessed.
“I can imagine,” he said softly. His hand was still rubbing my back, and it helped me unwind enough to tell the rest of the story.
“It was really hard, but we were making it. Will was the best baby you could imagine.” My voice broke and new tears threatened, so I cleared my throat to gather my composure. “He hardly cried or fussed and was ready with a smile every time I looked at him. I adored him from the moment I held him the first time. He was so tiny, and I felt this strong feeling of protectiveness come over me.” I couldn’t stop the tears that time, and Miller just waited patiently while I worked my way through them.
“He was my little shadow, following me everywhere I went. People asked me if I resented him, but I never did. I wanted to be his protector forever, but I let him down. I was selfish, and Will paid the price.”
“What do you mean you were selfish? Wasn’t the fire an accident?” Miller asked me.
“My mom promised me she would stay sober and be a great mom to Will when I left for college. She was so proud of me for getting scholarships to a prestigious school and promised me I had nothing to worry about. I learned after the fire that her promise had only lasted for one month after I left. She went right back to drinking and dating bad men again. One of those losers passed out drunk with a lit cigarette in his hand. The fire burned down our house and killed everyone inside.” I started imagining a terrified Will screaming for me to save him, but I never came.
“You’re blaming yourself for going to college and wanting a better life, Jag?”
“I should’ve been home that night, but I was on a Greyhound bus instead. I wanted to spend a few more days with Chase before I went home for holiday break. If I hadn’t been selfish about spending time away from Chase, then I would’ve been home the night of the fire, and I could’ve gotten my brother out alive.”
“Or you could’ve died too,” Miller interjected. “Jag, you may look a little like Bruce Wayne, but you’re not a superhero. You have no way of knowing what would’ve happened if you had been home when the fire started.”
“I would’ve run that fucker off before the fire even started,” I snarled. “I could’ve transferred schools and lived closer to home and helped my mom out again. I knew how hard she struggled to stay sober, but I wanted to believe she could do it because it made it easier for me to leave. I hadn’t thought of her or Will, not when I went to college and not when I stayed extra days to spend time with Chase.”
“So that’s why you broke up with him so abruptly? Did you blame him for what happened?”
“No. Never.” It was the truth. “I never blamed Chase for any of it, just myself. I knew better than to think I deserved a good life. People like me don’t get fairy-tale endings, Miller. I was mad at the only people responsible—my mom, her boyfriend, and myself.”
“People like you? I don’t understand.”
“People from the wrong side of the tracks, Bones. You’ve heard all the phrases and probably used a few of them. Have you ever referred to someone as white trash or trailer trash? If so, you were describing me.”
“I’ve never said those horrible things, and I’m calling bullshit right now.” Miller’s voice had taken on a firm note, and he pushed at me until I sat up and looked at him. “You are none of those things.” I was about to tell him he had no idea where I came from, but he stopped me with a press of his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and let Miller’s touch soothe my battered heart. “I don’t care where you were born or to whom. You”—he held my chin in his hand—“are a brilliant, beautiful man who tries to hide how deeply he cares about people. You’re the kind of guy who can’t just adopt one fluffy kitty and leave her sister behind. What happened to your little brother is tragic and horrible, Jag, but it’s not your fault. You could’ve died too, and the thought of you not being here really hurts.”
The intellectual side of me knew Miller was right, but the brokenhearted teenager still had a lot of control over me, and his self-esteem and feelings of self-worth were very low. The lonely adult I had become wanted to cling to Miller’s words, to take them into my heart and hold them dear. I wanted to be worthy and deserving of love.
“Have you ever told Chase about what happened?”
“I’ve only told you, Bones.”
“I think you should tell him. I think Chase deserves to hear the truth and not keep thinking you just suddenly didn’t want to be with him.” Miller’s voice was still compassionate, but a hint of something else was there too. I just couldn’t name the other emotion.
I cocked my head to the side and studied him, but he gave nothing away. I only saw caring in his baby blues, not pity or disgust. “Do you think it still matters after so long? Have you seen how deliriously happy he is with Gray and the life they’re making with each other? I don’t want to bring a second of sorrow to his life.”
“Jag, can I ask you a really personal question?”
“You’re asking me permission after everything I just unloaded on you?” I gave Miller a disbelieving look and gestured for him to bring it on.
