“It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy! With what?”
“Recovery.” He motions to his booted foot. “You seem to forget that I had all this to deal with.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that,” I say, sarcasm lathers my tone. “Did you at least tell her that? Like, have you responded to let her know you’re going to be disconnecting for a bit, or are you just ghosting her?”
Hot anger burns along my veins, thinking about poor Sonora, just waiting for a response. One minute she’s in dailycommunication with Anker and then the next day,poofit’s gone with no explanation. All because my brother’s head has been up his ass since his accident.
“I expect better from you.” Disappointment slithers into my voice, making it sound venomous.
“Leave the melodrama for your audiobooks. This isn’t a big deal. Not to mention you’re overstepping,” he says with a dismissive head shake.
“It may not be a big deal to you, but I’d imagine to Sonora it is. It’s clear from everything you’ve shared that she likes you, and you’re just blowing her off. One minute you’re making plans to meet at the marathon, and now you’re ghosting her.”
“Stop projecting,” he says flippantly.
“What does that mean?” My brow pinches.
“It means that you’re upset about whatever literary fuckboy did to push you into your romantic sabbatical or whatever the fuck you’re calling it, and taking it out on me. I’m not Miles, and Sonora isn’t you.”
Blanching, I rear back. It’s like foreign words are coming out of my brother’s mouth.
“Watch it,” Garrett snarls, causing both me and Anker to look at him. “Don’t weaponize what happened with Miles against her.”
“I am not… Fuck…” Anker heaves a loud breath. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I shouldn’t have said that. I just… You just don’t get it.”
“I get you’re being a jerk. All because you can’t run a race.” I toss my hands up. “I’m seeing the wrong side of six a.m. most mornings to make your Larsen lore fever dreams come true, the least you can do is pull your head out of your ass.”
“Head out of my ass?” he grits. “You’ve spent a month training for something I’ve spent years training for. Not to mention, a lifetime working toward. I was supposed to go to New York, meet Sonora, and start my life.Youwouldn’t understand.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Garrett snaps. His body’s rigid posture telegraphs the icy glare aimed at my brother.
“I have this, Garrett.” I look between my friend and my brother. “But I do understand, Anker.” I release a shaky breath. “I may not understand what you’re going through right now, but I know what it’s like to have expectations for how your life is supposed to unfold, but fate has different plans.”
It might be why I lack the blind faith my brother has in the Larsen lore. Maybe it’s because fate dealt each of us different cards from the deck. Anker has his lists and plans, but I have to adapt. With each degree of loss in my vision, I’m forced to figure out new ways of doing things. As well-adapted as I am, I am more the wait-and-see what happens type.
“Bad things happen all the time. Life doesn’t turn out the way you want—hope for.” My gaze drops on Garrett, who sits quietly in the chair across the room. “This sucks, but it’s temporary. If you want to let it derail you from what you want, that’s on you. But if you want to put your big boy panties on and adapt, I’m here.”
He scrubs his hands down his face. “I am a dick.”
“Yes, you are,” Garrett says gruffly.
“I’m sorry, Jensen. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“Thank you.” I sit up straighter. “I am also sorry. I probably did project a bit, and I definitely overstepped. I just don’t want to see you lose out on the things you want just because it doesn’t happen the way you think it should happen.”
This may be the first time my brother has faced life not happening the way he’s planned. As charming and carefree as he is, he has plans for everything. His plans have plans. Hell, it’s why he has emergency preparedness kits in his car and garage. Not to mention things for Ditka at his house, and both Garrett and my favorite snacks, just in case.
I’m used to life disappointing me, so I know how to adapt. Whether it’s men I crush on not liking me back or restaurants without an accessible menu, I always figure it out.
“I’ll get my head out of my ass and call Sonora tomorrow. It’s after nine in New York, and I know she likes to go to bed early,” he says.
“Good.” My smile ticks up.
He shifts on the couch to face me. “I am really sorry for what I said, and if you want to pull out of the marathon, it’s okay. I can do it on my own. Like you said, I just need to adapt and figure it out.”
It would be so easy to take him up on his offer. I could revert to cheering him on from the sidelines, but I don’t want to. I have no expectation that I will finish this race, but I have hope that I will and determination to try.
