For the first time, I have no desire to game with him. My chest feels tight, and my stomach feels heavy and squidgy. There’s just no way that I’m sitting still with everything that’s on my mind right now.
I pace around the living room, my body as restless as my mind. Everything feels sharp and overwhelming. I want to hit something, but I also want one of my mom’s hugs.
I head to my room to change into my running gear. It feels like the only positive thing I can do right now. I did it a lot as a teenager, especially when I was all up in my head about something.
It’s a gorgeous late-summer night in Denver. The sun set a short while ago, so it’s still warm, but there’s a cooler breeze wicking the sweat off my skin. Any other night, and this would be perfect running conditions. Not tonight, but that’s due to my mental state and not the weather. A few people are out walking their dogs on the pathway through the park near my condo, but not many. It doesn’t take long before I’m alone on the pathway, which is helpful because I’m in no mood for social interaction. I forgot my headphones because I was so up in my head so no music. Instead, my brain gives me a repeat of today’s conversations - both Madison’s and my father’s. Fantastic. Just what I need.
‘That sounds like a child to me’
‘He’s a man-child and no woman wants that.’
‘I want a partner, not a project.’
‘Your mother isn’t going to give you a list for your own life. Figure it out, son.’
The words sync with my running pace like the cadence of a drill sergeant’s march, rolling through my mind over and over again, but I keep running. I run until the voices become a whisper in my brain. I run until all the emotions flatten out and my muscles ache. I run until my mind is quiet and the only thing I hear is my labored breathing. That’s when I finally head home.
Walker’s bedroom door is still closed, but I can see the light flicker through the crack at the bottom as I head for the shower. Sleep’s not coming easily for either of us, it seems. Hours later, I finally drift off. I may have muffled the voices for a while, but they’re still lurking in the background. Sleep is my only reprieve.
Madison
“Lila! The foam blocks weren’t returned after the last class. Can you do that please?” I say my voice harsh with far more irritation than the situation warrants.
“Already done, Ms. Cranky Pants.” I grimace. Lila is one of the part-time instructors I hired at the beginning of the summer. She’s sweet, kind, and undeserving of my ire. She’s been nothing but helpful since I hired her.
“Sorry, girl. Not sure what’s wrong with me this week.” Except I am. I’m just not willing to talk about it or even acknowledge it, even though I’m clearly taking it out on my staff. Which is hardly fair to them.
“It’s fine. We’ve all been there.” Lila’s giving me far more grace than I deserve.
I take myself off to my office where I can wallow in peace and give Lila a break from my dismal mood.
It’s been a week since my fight with my brother. My chest hurts every time I think about the ugly things I said. Because really? I’m supposed to be the mature one in our family. I was mean when I didn’t have to be, and I’m not proud of it. Wehaven’t talked or texted since then. Walker is the only family I have left, and I hate that we’re at odds right now.
Epic fail, Madison.
“So... you wanna talk about why you’re so grumpy?” Lila asks from the doorway of my office, casually pulling her long black hair back into a ponytail and securing with the bright pink hair tie from her wrist. I shake my head no, but then I open my mouth and word vomit the whole situation. Clearly needing someone to talk to about this.
“So my brother and I had a fight, and now I feel like shit. Even though the issues were legit, I was pretty mean.” I shake my head, looking anywhere but at her bright blue eyes.
“Siblings are a thing. I’ve got three of them. They’re a pain in my ass, but I’d shank a bitch for all of ’em.” I can’t help but laugh. She gives me a wink.
“Exactly! I love him, but then he says something stupid and suddenly I’m over the top pissed. Like zero to sixty. So of course I went off on him.”
“Should I ask what he said?” She asks, “Or is it too personal.”
“He asked me how my “little” yoga thing was going? Before congratulating himself on getting me that contract job with the Wolves.” I grimace at the sudden pain in my chest. Yup, still stings.
“Ouch. He’s the hockey player, right?”
“Oh yeah. The golden boy of our family.” I don’t even hide my eye roll.
“Oh God. I’ve been there. Been carrying that around for a bit? The resentment.” The shrewd look she gives me says she’s far too familiar with this story.
“Pretty much since Walker started playing.” I shake my head at the memories. “Yeah, I’ve got a whole love/hate thing going on with the hockey. And probably with Walker as well.”
“That’s normal, you know. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“It doesn’t feel normal.” It actually feels decidedly abnormal.
