Her brow furrows, and she wraps her tiny hands around her steaming mug. “Will …”
“Please let me do this.” It’s the least I could do. Literally. I grip the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turn white.“Océane, I need to make it up to you somehow.” Her nostrils flare.
Rachel interrupts, grabbing one of my hands to force me to relax my grip. “Will. Don’t deflect. You can do this.” She looks at me, and I understand the unspoken words hanging in the air:
Don’t buy your way out of this.
My jaw clenches, and I focus my attention on Océane again. “I owe you an apology. More like a thousand apologies.”
“Will …”
“I’ve been pushing you away. That’s the first thing.” My armour tries to come back up. “The last thing I wanted was for my shitty lifestyle to influence you, and?—”
“Bullshit,” Rachel interrupts. “You haven’t been that guy in years.”
“Rachel, let him talk,” Océane chides her.
A painful sigh escapes me. “No, she’s right. That’s a pathetic excuse. I’ve just been …” Fuck, this is hard. “I’ve been a coward.” But I won’t be one today. I don’t waver from Océane’s gaze. “I look at you, and I see everything wrong with what I did.” A tremor passes through me like a wave. “Fuck, Océane, I’m so sorry.” My voice breaks. Rachel squeezes my hand in support.
Océane’s eyes become mirrors. Her lower lip trembles. But I have to continue. “I’m sorry I abandoned you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I was a coward and didn’t want to face any of it. And because of that, you got hurt, and that’s my fault, and I’ll never be sorry enough.” I have to stop before a sob rips out of me. I’m not going to break down. This isn’t a Will Pity Party. I can have my breakdown later.
Her head shakes slightly as if she can’t believe a word she’s hearing. A tear drops down her cheek.
I gather myself and continue. “So, I’ll do what I have to do to make it up to you. I’ll pay your rent. I’ll help you find betterdoctors. I’ll help you file those government papers to get your disability approved. I’ll do your groceries. I’ll?—”
“Will,stop.” Her nostrils flare again. “Just … stop. I don’t want any of that.”
I gasp. “What?”
With tear-filled eyes, she shakes her head again. Rachel sits and listens, hardly making a sound. “I never blamed you,” Océane starts. “Ever. Most days I ran away, too, in my own way. There are big chunks of time where I can’t even remember. It’s their fault and no one else’s.” The words hit me one by one, each a jolt to my system. “I lost my mom. I lost my dad. I don’t want you to rescue me, Will.” Now it’s her voice that breaks. “I just want my brother back. I don’t want to lose you, too.”
The floor tilts, sending me into a wave of vertigo. Before I realize what I’m doing, I bolt from my seat and scoop my baby sister into my arms. For a second, her body stiffens, but she quickly melts into the embrace, her hands gripping the backs of my shoulders as if hanging on for dear life.
The shame sheds away, layers upon layers of it, uncovering this deep, unconditional love that’s always been there. I feel it emanate from her, and it’s the same sensation radiating from my core.
She doesn’t resent me.
She doesn’t hate me.
She just wants me to be the brother I never was. The brother I should have been this whole time.
“I can do that,” I whisper against her hair, holding on to her as if I can make up for all that lost time. All those years I didn’t show her just how much she means to me. “I can be your brother. I love you, Océane.”
“I love you too,” she sobs against my chest. And before I know it, Rachel rushes into us, surrounding us with her arms.
“It’s the three of us against the world,” she says, her own voice on the verge of breaking. “I love you both so much.”
It’s going to be okay.
We’re going to be okay.
I can’t be sure of exactly how long we remain intertwined like this. At some point, Rachel is the first to let go, and surprisingly, I’m the last. Rachel insists on casting some music to my smart TV—she choosesLes Colocs, a classic from our childhood, and I’m instantly reminded of Gwen, dancing and laughing at the upbeat songs. But I don’t let it shift the focus away from this moment.
The three of us sip our coffees while we catch up on the details of each other’s lives. Océane is particularly curious about my job.
“I knew you were a consultant, but can I be honest for a second?”
I snort, leaning against the table. “So the past half hour was you being dishonest?”
