The rivalry was manageable while my dad was alive to play referee, but after he passed away the summer I graduated high school, it became an open war.
Ten days ago, Britney had been found unconscious from an overdose in a grocery store parking lot. Her son, Axel, had been at school.
With Eleanor having passed away three years ago from lung cancer, I was unfortunately the only adult left in the family.
It was so typical of Britney. Even in death, she created destruction and expected others to clean it up.
“This is insane,” I say, standing abruptly. “Whatever game Britney thought she was playing with this will, I’m not participating. Find another solution.”
Ethan’s eyes flash to mine, and for a split second, I see something that looks almost like approval. Then his expression hardens again.
“Cassidy’s right. We’re not the answer.”
The fact that he’s agreeing with me should feel like a victory. Instead, it makes my stomach churn.
We used to be a team once. We used to finish each other’s sentences, share inside jokes and plan a future together. Now, the only thing we can agree on is rejecting Britney’s child.
“If neither of you accepts guardianship,” Ms. Rodrigue says carefully, “I’ll recommend to the judge that Axel be placed in the foster care system until the age of majority. But with Christmas being in three days, emergency placements are nearly impossible. He’ll likely spend the next few days in a group home with older boys.”
Silence stretches between us. The wind rattles the windows of the social services office, and I glance outside to see snowflakes beginning to fall.
I can feel Ethan’s presence, the scent of his cologne, his exhaustion and barely leashed anger. My fingers itch to smooth the tension from his shoulders, to ease the lines of stress around his eyes.
I clench my hands into fists.
“How old is he now?” Ethan asks finally, his voice neutral.
“Seven,” Ms. Rodrigue replies. “He’s been through a lot, as you can imagine. His mother’s addiction, the neglect... He’s a quiet child. Very well-behaved. Almost too well-behaved, if you know what I mean.”
My stomach drops, but I push the feeling away. This isn’t my responsibility. I didn’t choose this.
I’ve spent the last eight years rebuilding my life after Ethan and Britney destroyed it, and I’m not about to let them drag me back into their chaos. Not even for—
The door opens again, and a small figure appears in the doorway.
Seven years old, Ms. Rodrigue said, but Axel looks smaller than that. Fragile.
His clothes are too big for his thin frame, hanging loose like hand-me-downs. Dark hair that needs cutting falls into eyes that are unmistakably Ethan’s. But where Ethan’s eyes burn with anger and resentment, Axel’s are blank.
He looks between Ethan and me with the wariness of a child who’s been disappointed too many times. When neither of us speaks, he drops his gaze to the floor.
“I knew you weren’t gonna take me,” he says quietly.
The words pierce me. This is what we are to him. Two adults who can’t even pretend to care about his existence.
Ethan makes a sound like he’s been punched, and when I glance at him, his face has gone pale beneath his tan. His hands are clenched at his sides, and for a moment, he looks as lost as the boy standing in the doorway.
“Axel,” Ms. Rodrigue says, “why don’t you come sit down? Ms. Morgan and Mr. Whitmore are just discussing the arrangements.”
Arrangements. Like he’s a package to be delivered, not a little boy who just lost his mother and has nowhere else to go.
Guilt rips into me, swift and brutal. I’ve spent years telling myself that Britney’s choices weren’t my responsibility, that I couldn’t save her from herself.
But this isn’t about Britney anymore. This is about a child who looks at us and sees confirmation of his unworthiness.
I close my eyes and feel my vacation slipping away. The same way everything good in my life had slipped away the moment Britney decided she wanted it.
When I open them again, Ethan is staring at me with an expression I can’t read. There’s something vulnerable in his face,something that reminds me of the boy I used to know before everything went wrong.
