“I don’thateyou.” His grumble dies off into a barely audible tone by the end. Even he doesn’t believe the words enough to get them out.
“You just hate talking to me, being around me, sharing blood with me, that it?”
I tick each item off on a different finger as I call them out. He doesn’t say anything more, so I do.
“When are you going to stop holding it against me? Huh?”
Eyes so similar to my own flash back up to me, a sea of unspoken emotion raging in them. It’s time to get it out.
“The divorce, Wyatt, let it out!”
That breaks the dam. My brother goes off. “I busted my ass to get us through that time. All you did was make it harder on Mom.”
“What, by loving her? Making her laugh?”
“By being a needy son of a bitch!”
“Is this what you’ve been holding against me all these years? That I cried when our parents got divorced? That I needed my mother’s love? What, you think I’m a pussy because I needed a hug?”
“I was out working, trying to put food on the table for us before Daniel came along. And you made her life harder, not easier, Weston.”
Twenty years of space between us because of a grudge over my reaction to the divorce? I know he’s always had a low opinion of me, but this might be the first time I actually have one of him.
“I was thirteen, Wyatt! Thirteen! A child. Too young for a job, hadn’t developed a sense of responsibility yet. Still had my heart, unlike you. What was I supposed to do? Turn tricks on the corner for money? All I had to offer her was smiles, all I could do was give her a reason not to cry. I’m not going to apologize for having an emotional response to the most devastating thing kids can go through. But I tried too.”
Wyatt runs a hand through his dark hair, spilling some over his forehead in the process as he gets out his frustration.
“If you wanted to help, you could’ve done shit around the house or mowed some fucking lawns or something, West. It’s not that hard.”
“That’s you, Wyatt, that’s not me.You’rethe guy who shows up quietly for the people he cares about. I’m the one who lightens the mood. We’re not all made from the same mold, and I wish you saw what’s good about that, instead of resenting me for it.”
His shoulders slump, like my words hit him hard.
“I don’t need you to beme,” he says.
Maybe he hasn’t given this as much thought as I have over the years, with him being so preoccupied with losing the love of his life and all, but this is something I’ve deconstructed in my mind over and over again, and I know what I know.
“Yes, you do,” I insist. “You do. You’ve always held it against me that I’m not you. And here’s the kicker.” My volume rises, a hit of insanity showing through as my voice cracks on the words.
I fling my arms up in the air and let them fall back down on my thighs with a slap.
“The fucking punchline is that I always wished Iwasyou, Wyatt. My big brother, who always had his shit together, who met ‘the one’ in high school, and always knew what he wanted out of life.”
Wyatt’s jaw clenches tight, probably to stop from dropping, and he watches me intently.
“It’s been the bane of my existence, never being able to findanyoneout there who made me feel a goddamn thing. Until Amelia, I thought I was broken. I thought I couldn’t feel the things you feel. That I didn’t have it in me.” One fist pounds my chest, causing my words to rumble as I continue. “And the one thing that’s been ruining my life all these years is what you’ve held against me. What you’veusedagainst me, like ammo. My biggest weakness is your greatest strength. And now I’ve finally found someone that makes me feel something, and you’re determined to keep us apart so thatIdon’t fuck it up, because that’s all you think I can do.”
Wyatt’s eyes turn glassy as my emotion leaks through my voice.
“For once in my life, Wyatt, I have someone thatmeanssomething to me. Something worth trying to succeed at. I don’t need you making it any harder on me, man.”
My brother covers his face with his hands, and I think he might be trying to contain himself. I see his chest shake, inflating with a deep breath or two, and when his arms drop back down, it’s regret shining through his eyes.
Breathing heavily, my chest rises and falls, some sort of peace coursing through me at finally airing this out between us. If he wants to hate me for the rest of our lives because I’m not as good as him, at least now he’ll know I wish I were.
“I never knew,” he says. He clears his throat, but the words still sound unnatural when he says, “I’m sorry, man.”
“Yeah, ’cause you assumed I’m just some fucking idiot you had to share your toys with when we were young,” I bite back.
