“He seems intense.”
Charlie smiles. “He looks like all the other finance guys minus the douchieness.”
Then we swipe to Callum’s page. He’s the wilder one. Smiling in every photo, always surrounded by people, especially his two other brothers. London‘IT’boy energy. A lot of nightlife. And it seems a lot of charm, judging by the ladies in all the photos.
I open the message window on Rowan’s profile. My fingers shake.
I type.
Hi.
I delete it. Try again.
Hey Rowan, it’s Derrick.
Delete. Try again.
Hi, this is Derrick, your brother. Thank you for reaching …
Delete.
Charlie slides his hand onto my knee. “Keep it simple.”
“Simple feels … terrifying,” I confess to him.
“I know. Just be yourself. They are probably as freaked out as you are,” he tells me.
Be myself. Don’t overthink it. He’s right, they probably have been going crazy all this time since sending the letter. Maybe I need to put them out of their misery, too.
Hey, sorry to jump scare you in your DMs. I got your letter. To say I am shocked that I have two brothers is an understatement. I also didn’t know my parents had passed, so that’s kind of thrown me for a loop too. Needed to process that. My name now is Derrick Jones. I live in LA. I’m a stylist. And I would very much like to meet you both.
I stare at Charlie. “You think that’s okay?”
“I think it’s honest.”
My thumb hovers over the send button.
Charlie squeezes my leg. “I’m right here.”
I take a breath. And press send. The second it leaves my screen, my heart drops to my shoes. “Oh God,” I whisper. “I actually did it.”
Charlie’s hand slides to my back. “You did.”
“I feel sick.”
“Understandable.”
I sit there, staring at the message thread like it might explode.
Then.
Seen.
My stomach flips so hard I almost fold in half.
“He saw it.” I breathe.
Charlie nods, watching me carefully. “Good.”
