Fuck.I wish that had happened. I wish every goddamn day that we would have had time here together.
“I was living in a walk up on the Lower East Side.” I close my eyes, willing the wave of memories to retreat.
I rented the apartment when I first settled in New York. It was a month-to-month two bedroom with a sticky lock on the door and a refrigerator that couldn’t keep anything cold.
I had money in my pocket, but fear kept me from spending it until my younger half-brother wanted something.
“Apollo came to Manhattan after he was accepted to Fordham University.” I take a breath. “The kid was an ace at baseball. That was his ticket to the scholarship he earned.”
Right after Apollo died, everyone who visited my grandfather in San Francisco to offer condolences, rushed him through his memories of Apollo. They wanted to know what took his life. The death of someone so young is often more about that one moment than all the time they spent living.
“What position did he play?”
The question catches me off guard. I’ve never been asked that. Drake never bothered to ask that.
Emma is putting value in who Apollo was; not on how he was taken. “Pitcher.”
“Some would argue that’s the most important position on the team.”
That lures a smile to my mouth. “Pol would agree with you.”
“Pol,” she repeats his nickname. “Did he like it when you called him that?”
“He fucking loved it.” I tilt my head back to steal a breath. “His dad left before he was born, so it was my grandpa and me that raised him. I was Rush, and he was Pol.”
There’s no question about my parents waiting to be asked. Drake must have told Emma that my father was killed in a motorcycle accident when I was three. My mother left when Pol was a year old. She fucked off with some random she met who had a fat wallet and a dislike for kids.
My grandfather stepped in and saw to it that my brother and I had everything we needed.
I’ve returned the favor the past few years. He lives a half-mile from me in his own beach house. It’s smaller, but it suits him fine.
It’s the ocean that is the draw for both of us. It’s where we feel closest to Pol.
Silence settles between us, but it’s comfortable. Emma rests her head against mine.
I want her to know what happened to my brother as much as I want to forget.
“I went to work early one Tuesday morning.” I squeeze her tighter, wanting to keep her in place while I get the words out. “When I came home from work that afternoon, he was gone. He was still in his bed.”
She presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Case.”
“He was supposed to go to Fordham that day for orientation, but he never made it.” My voice cracks. “Pol died in his sleep of a seizure.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Emma
I holdCase in my arms.
Words can’t do justice to the loss that he experienced, but if I can offer comfort through my touch, I want to do that.
“Apollo wanted to live here.” He tilts his head until our eyes meet. “His dream was to live in a fancy place with a doorman and a killer view of the city.”
I run my fingers over his cheek. “This apartment fits that bill.”
“We looked at it together.” His gaze surveys the room. “Two minutes into the tour, he was nudging me in the side and telling me this was our new home.”
I don’t have to ask why. Case’s brother was as impressed with the apartment as I was when I first saw it.
