“But Shep is sixteen now.” The tone of Harlow’s voice implored Simon to reconsider, as though reminding Simon of the passage of time would change their situation. Still, he spoke softly, and kindly, and in a way that made Simon ache to forget his duty to his brothers. “If you and Jayne both have custody, then he’ll get to stay here even if you leave—he won’t be taken away.”
“You’re right.” Simon took back his arm, placing his hands on his lap. It pained him to do so, but the longer Harlow touched him, the more he wanted to give in. “Jayne and Ididwin joint custody of Shep. We’re officially his guardians, and it means he can stay with either of us. But that’s not the point of what I’m trying to tell you. I need to… I need to tell you what we’ve been through so you understand why Ican’tleave.”
To that, Harlow had no answer, so Simon continued.
“It’s not just for Shep. Jayne needs my help, too. We depend on… we depend on each other. We’re a family.” Simon shook his head. There was a part of him, selfish and self-serving, that urged him to let go of the past and embrace his best possible future.If you leave with Harlow to go to Los Angeles,it whispered,none of the hardship you’ve endured or the sacrifices you’ve had to make will follow. Family or not, you know they use you. After all you’ve done, what do you owe them? Leave, and you’ll be free.
But Simon was more than his dark thoughts wanted him to be. Jayne and Shep were his family, and no matter if he was being used or not, he couldn’t leave them to suffer.
“Jayne can’t afford the rent for the apartment,” Simon revealed. “Not to mention the cost of taking care of Shep, and himself,andon top of all that, paying for a nanny for Parker. He’s making good money now, but he’s got student loans to pay, and it just… it just doesn’t work.”
“I don’t understand,” Harlow admitted. “You live in a small apartment, you and Jayne both work, Jayne is adoctor,of all things… that, combined with your inheritance from your parents, should be enough to keep you going, shouldn’t it?”
There it was—the conversation Simon had been dreading. He stared holes through the table, too embarrassed to look at Harlow. What would Harlow think if he knew the truth? Harlow, who lived in a palace on the beach in one of the most expensive cities in the United States, who jetted around the world, to whom money was no object. Simon was ashamed enough of his struggles without admitting them to a man whose net worth was more than Simon could dream of making in his lifetime. But Harlowneededto understand. If Simon let silence win, he would never have closure.
“The reason I started looking for work—the reason we met when we did—was because I was scrambling for money so I could support us while Jayne continued his residency. Like I said before, no will was found, so the estate wasn’t divided according to what my mom or dad wanted—it was divided according to the law.”
Bitterness. Disappointment. Injustice.
Simon balled his fists, then released them. Irritation prickled his lungs. “Do you remember when I told you Jayne is my half-brother?”
“Yes.”
Simon looked miserably across the table at Harlow, then regretted his decision. The concern on Harlow’s face made him more aware than ever of how pitiful he was—of how absolutely impossible the situation had become.
“While the estate was in limbo, we found out things about our parents that we never knew. It turns out that my mom had never officially divorced Jayne’s dad. I never met him, but the stories I heard, and the fear in her eyes when she mentioned him, convinced me that he wasn’t a good guy. When she left him, she wanted nothing more to do with him. I think… I think she was afraid of what might happen if she pushed him too far.”
The few times the topic of Jayne’s father had been brought up, the conversation had been short and sparse. The look that had overcome his mother’s face had spoken for itself—she washauntedby the man she’d left, and Simon didn’t blame her for wanting to stay away. There was trauma there that she’d never spoken about, ugly times better forgotten. Had Simon been more aware during his teenage years, he would have taken her struggle as the first indication that life was cruel at the best of times—that even the ones most loved and trusted could do vile and inexcusable things.
“To her, it was more important that she have safety and peace of mind than child support or alimony, so she never sent him papers, and he never had any delivered to her. Their union was defunct, although still legally binding, and so, without a will, and following the laws of intestacy, everything she owned went to him. The house, its belongings, the money from her accounts… everything.”
Everything except for the pieces that Simon, Jayne, and Shep had managed to sneak out before the law awarded their childhood home to a villain. The mirror in the bathroom with the faded, peeling stickers, and the old armchair in the living room were relics of a time past. A happier time. Even as the years marched on, the memories those items retained never deteriorated.
“But your dad?” Harlow pressed.
“Oh.” Simon smiled sadly. “Yeah. He had a separate account from my mom, but it was nothing big—only enough to cover the legal fees, the funeral expenses. We did inherit the minivan from him, and it’s been way useful, so we’re lucky for that. But with Shep and me kicked out of the house, it was hard to keep a level head and remember what we had to be thankful for. We were too busy scrambling to put together first, last month’s rent, and a security deposit on an apartment—this one. Jayne moved in with us to help out.”
Simon steepled his fingers, then parted them. The story left him numb.
“And you were going through all of this while you were working with me?” Harlow asked, sounding astonished. “Three years ago…”
“Yeah. It, um, it was hard. But when life chews you up like that, you do what you’ve gotta do, you know?” Simon ran his fingers down the legs of his boxer-briefs to his thighs, then back up again. “I didn’t think twice about the work I needed to put in, or how exhausted I was, or even how hard it was for me to adjust to my new life—I was in survival mode. I did what I had to do to make sure we stayed together. I lost touch with my friends, I distanced myself from the things I used to like to do, and I spent my days keeping my brain engaged with what was happening, either dealing with whatever new obstacle we were facing regarding my parents’ death, or earning money so we could pay rent and bills.”
“Simon…” Harlow’s voice carried notes of the apology that life had never given him. “That’s terrible.”
“I mean, we pulled through.” Simon didn’t want to leave the conversation on a negative note, but Harlow had to understand where he was coming from. He’d never told anyone what he’d been through before—largely because he’d had no one to tell—so he hadn’t been aware how much of a downer it would sound until he’d already said it. Still, if Harlow knew where he was coming from, then maybe he could understand why Simon couldn’t go. And maybe, as someone with an outside perspective, he’d see a way out of his current situation that Simon had never seen before, no matter how much of a long shot it was.
Simon wouldn’t hold his breath. Movies worked that way, but real life was far more ruthless.
“It was hard work,” Simon added, “but we did it. I worked hard with… online freelancing—” of themostlylegal variety, “—and kept us afloat. Now that Jayne’s working, too, it’s a little easier. He managed to, um, pull some strings and land a new, highly sought-after residency that led to employment. He has good, predictable hours—which is a lot better than most of his peers can say—and he makes great money. But money isn’t everything.”
“But money is a concern, right?” Harlow asked cautiously. “With money, you’d be able to relax a little more—you’d be able to find your freedom.”
“I don’t… I don’t know.” Simon toyed with a wrinkle on his boxer-briefs, trying to ignore the woven tapestry of dread spreading through his chest and into his stomach.
Money was always an issue—he was raising a young man and infant nephew, and doing so wasn’t cheap—but money wouldn’t fix what was wrong. Not truly. No matter how much of it they had, it would never fill the holes in their hearts.
“I do.” Harlow sounded so confident that Simon couldn’t help but look up. It was unfair how gentle his eyes were, and how radiant his smile. But what struck Simon as most unfair were the words that Harlow said—an enticement that made Simon wish he could say yes. “Come to Los Angeles with me. However much it is, I’ll pay for what your brothers need.”
