Rowan disappears for the next day—and instead of checking in with him, I allow him to sort himself out.
I throw myself into work, instead. Our newest horror game has to do with haunted animatronics, which includes a possessed cat character that comes to life. I take over part of Rowan’s portion, happy to busy myself instead of wallowing in the ache that comes with being apart from Blair.
I knew it would hurt. I knew I would ache, but I didn’t realize how terrible it would feel to be separated from my scent match.
And if I’m feeling this way, I know Rowan is experiencing it tenfold.
Which makes me worry about how Blair is holding up, if we’re all suffering like this.
Ash trots into the room and perches on the cat tree above my desk, settling into a loaf form and slow blinking at me.
Blair says a slow blink is a sign of love.
Too bad I didn’t slow blink at her enough.
“Hey.”
I didn’t even realize my brother had entered the room, lost in thought about Blair. He carries Josie, Posie, and Rosie in his arms and places them down on top of a crocheted fish pattern blanket, then stares at my computer screen.
“Hey,” I reply, swiveling my chair to face him. “I started working on the creepy animatronic one. There are some pixelation issues, especially with the haunted cat.”
He nods, his face paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes. “Am I really like that?” he asks me suddenly.
“Like what?”
“Like you said yesterday. Always demanding attention. Making it so that you can never focus on yourself and only about me.”
I shrug. “We’re adults, Rowan. I said that shit out of anger and annoyance. You don’t make me do anything.”
“But you meant it,” he presses. “Didn’t you?”
I chew my lip. “I shouldn’t have said it.”
His jaw clenches as he looks at me. “I care about how you feel,” he mumbles, swallowing. “I’m not trying to be selfish all the time.”
“I don’t think you’re trying to be selfish all the time, Row.”
“Yeah, well, I was an asshole yesterday,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to worry about me all the time or be forced to hold me back. I’m sorry.”
My brother rarely apologizes, so his words startle me.
“I know. I’m sorry for what I said to you, too,” I say.
“I…want to be better. Forher.”
“You just need to be yourself,” I tell him gently. “She makes you better. She makesusbetter. She just needs to know that, somehow. We need to find a way to make her understand.”
“I just went out to be by myself and think.” Rowan hesitates, then crouches to pet the kittens. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her, and…” he huffs out a breath, cradling Josie to his chest, “it feels like I’m dying. Like I have the worst flu of my life. Now that I’ve had a taste of her, I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on without her.”
“We won’t have to,” I promise him, even though I’m not sure if that’s true.
“Her smell is torturing me. You can still scent her, can’t you? She’s in the walls. She’s everywhere, Ryland, like a damn ghostthat’s haunting us. Worse than any of this shit.” He gestures to the game on my monitor.
“Being away from her can make us sick,” I say. “If the scent match and connection are strong enough, we can end up with something like the flu.”
“Which meansshecould be sick,” Rowan groans. He sits on the floor with the kittens, allowing them to crawl all over his lap. “These cats are the only creatures that make me feel even a little bit better. No wonder she loves them so much,” he mutters.
I glance up at Ash, who has now fallen asleep in loaf form, eyes closed and at ease.
