I shake my head no. I’ve spoken twice in the last decade and they bothfelt too unnatural. It’s not that I don’t know if I can. Every time I’ve tried to speak—the few times I’ve tried—no sound came out. It’s like my voice box is littered with cobwebs from disuse. Broken.
“Have you tried?” The hope in her voice guts me like a knife.
I nod again. Resolution settles in her eyes.
“You owe Dylan an apology,” she scolds me. “You should be mad at me for pushing the subject, not him.”
I rub my middle and pointer finger over the space between my eyes on the bridge of my nose. I know I fucked up. Big time. I have so much to apologize for. So much I need to say. To both of them. My anger shouldn’t be directed at anyone but myself.
“I’ll sleep in my room,” she announces in the silence. But as she tries to walk past me I pull her into me once more and silently beg for her to stay with me. I hold her gaze and shake my head. Then start towardourroom, hoping she’ll come with me.
“Jason,” she looks unsure. So I kiss her with as much passion as I can muster through all the hurt and confusion. If I can’t tell her how I feel, maybe my actions can speak on my behalf.
A little reluctantly, she follows me into the bedroom and I tuck us into bed, spooning her small frame with my body so I can bury my face in her neck and breathe her in all night. So even in my dreams, I know she’s here.
She’s here. She’s alive.
I’ve had to remind myself of that too many times this winter.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mara-Preset
Trouble-Coldplay
Jason is gone by the time I wake up the next morning, probably working off steam in the garage gym. Like usual.
Last night plays on repeat in my head with the steady beat of the drumming in my temples. My body is sore, I’m tired, my brain is exhausted. I haven’t felt this way in a while. It’s too all consuming to ignore but I’m no longer in a position where I can stay in bed for god knows how long. So I rip myself out of bed and start getting ready.
I can’t believe I told Jason about my suicide attempt. And I can’t believe Dylan heard it too.
That should be the least of my worries considering Jason attacked his brother last night. But I have a feeling Jason will do whatever it takes to make things right with Dylan. They are too close and have been through too much together to let this tear them apart.
Besides, Dylan doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge. He loves his brother, that much is evident. And doesn’t love overpower everything else?
While I’m washing dishes after breakfast, I notice both boys standing in the open door of the shop. Dylan holds something in his hands while Jason leans against the doorframe with his hands tucked in his coat pockets. Something about the way he stands looks so unsure, like a child waiting to be told they misbehaved. He looks so innocent I just want to hug him andbrush my fingers through his hair.
No, Mara. That’s coddling and he doesn’t deserve to be coddled after the way he behaved.
Snooping through the window, I see the two brothers embrace one another in a man hug which makes a heavy weight lift from my soul. They’re too important to one another to stay mad for very long. I just hope Jason found a way to adequately apologize. Dylan deserves that much from him.
They head back to the house, traipsing through the snow. We had another snowfall last night. Doesn’t look like I’ll be able to get down the mountain anytime soon. Not sure I want to, either. It feels like we have unfinished business. It feels likeIhave unfinished business. Like I was sent here for a reason and it hasn’t been fulfilled yet. I can’t shake the feeling of dissatisfaction.
As soon as the pair walk through the door, kicking snow off their boots, I observe, “That was a fast recovery.” Leaning my hip against the sink, I cross my arms over my chest and stare them down.
Dylan looks between me and his brother and shrugs one shoulder. “We’re brothers.” He states it like it answers every question under the sun. “We can’t stay mad at each other long.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I go back to washing the pan in the sink but continue to talk to them with my back turned. “You both need haircuts. I’m not saying I’m a pro but I think I could do a pretty good job if you’re willing.”
I hear a subtle chuckle behind me and I’m not sure if it’s from Dylan, Jason, or both. But Dylan answers, “Why not. If you fuck it up, it’ll grow out by the time I have to see other human beings again.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I flick soapy water at him as he dodges past. “Let’s do it before dinner. Do you have clippers?”
“In the bathroom upstairs. I’ll bring them down later. I think your man wants your attention right now.”
I turn my head over my shoulder to see Jason standing only a foot away from me. Downcast eyes and worried brows clue me in to how vulnerable he’s going to be, or at least it feels that way to him. I dry my hands on a towel then turn to face him, resting my hip against the counter waiting forwhatever it is he has planned to try and make up for last night.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Jason extends a piece of paper gripped in his hand toward me.
