“I…” I paused, thinking about it for a moment. “I guess not. But it would still be weird.”
“It can be awkward. But since there’s no blood relation between you two, I can’t see why it would be any different than dating someone you met online.”
We talked for another twenty minutes. She gave me resources, suggested some books I could read, and encouraged me to take things at my own pace. No pressure to label myself, no rush to act on anything. Just... exploration.
By the time I hung up, my hands had stopped shaking.
I went back inside the repair shop and found Brayden emerging from the back room with James’s laptop.
“All fixed,” he said, setting it on the counter. “Tested it myself. Should be good as new.”
“Thanks.” I took it from him, relief washing over me. At least this was one thing I could make right.
The drive back to the apartment felt longer than usual, my mind replaying the conversation with Sarah over and over. I’d actually said it out loud; that I had feelings for James, for my stepbrother. And the world hadn’t ended. I hadn’t spontaneously combusted. I was still just... me. Confused as hell, but still me.
I parked and headed upstairs, letting myself into the apartment with my key. The place was still empty, which meant James was probably stuck in traffic or hitting up multiple stores. Good. That gave me time to set up what I’d been planning.
I placed the laptop back on his desk exactly where I’d found it, making sure the charging cord was plugged in and everythinglooked untouched. Then I grabbed a sticky note from the drawer and wrote a quick note.
Got your laptop fixed. Sorry I broke it. -K
I stuck it to the screen and stepped back, studying my handiwork. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A peace offering. An apology for more than just the laptop, really. It was for all the years I’d been a dick to him, for making his life harder than it needed to be.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from an unknown number.
This is Sarah from the helpline. I wanted to send you those resources we talked about. No pressure, but they’re here if you need them.
A link followed, leading to a webpage with articles, forums, and local support groups. I saved it to my bookmarks, then immediately buried it in a folder labeled “Work Stuff” so nobody would ever find it by accident.
I heard the jingle of keys outside the door and quickly moved away from his desk, throwing myself back onto the couch and grabbing the remote. The door opened and James walked in, arms loaded with grocery bags.
“Hey,” he said, kicking the door shut behind him. “Can you help me with these?”
“Yeah, sure.” I jumped up and took a few bags from him, carrying them to the kitchen. We worked in silence for a minute, unpacking things and putting them away. Then James disappeared down the hall, probably to put away the towels he’d mentioned.
I heard him stop. Heard the silence stretch out.
“Kent?”
My stomach clenched. “Yeah?”
He appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding the sticky note. His expression was unreadable. “You fixed my laptop?”
“I broke it. Seemed like the right thing to do.”
“When did you even—” He stopped, realization dawning. “The meeting. You lied about having a meeting.”
I shrugged, trying to play it casual even though my heart was racing. “You needed it for work. I couldn’t just leave it broken.”
James stared at me for a long moment, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Then, to my surprise, his face softened into something that almost looked like gratitude.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
The words hung between us, heavier than they should have been. James looked down at the sticky note again, his thumb running over the letters I’d scrawled there.
“This is...” He trailed off, then looked back up at me. “This is really nice, Kent. Seriously.”
