“We’ve been thinking through the logistics of the ceremony for a few weeks and”—Mia grabs her fiancée’s hand—“I wanted to ask if you would walk me down the aisle? I’d be honored if it was you.”
My heart stutters to a stop, completely startled by the question. “I, uh... you don’t wantme.”
She looks offended. “What do you mean? I’maskingyou.”
I shake my head. “Mia. I’m—” I pause, trying to find the right words.I don’t deserve that. I’m not the person you want for that role. I didn’t protect you when I should’ve.
I mean them—down to my very bones I mean them—but I can’t bring myself to say them out loud. To admit them to my sister.
Instead, I settle on, “You don’t have to do that.”
Mia’s face contorts with pain, like I’ve hurt her somehow. She turns to Bree and murmurs something too soft for me to hear. Bree kisses her cheek and says, “Love you,” before leaning into the phone and telling me, “I love you, too, Theo.”
For some reason, that statement burns in the back of my throat as she leaves the room.
Mia scoots closer, tightening the bun atop her head. “I want you to listen to me. And you’re not going to like it, but Iwillfly down there and make you listen in person. Don’t put it past me. I’ll tie you to a chair if I have to, so you really hear me.”
I manage to crack a smile. “All right.”
Her throat works on a swallow. “You’re pushing away the thought of walking me down the aisle because you don’t think you deserve it.”
My muscles tense. Ipress my lips together, unable to come up with an argument because she’s exactly right.
“I wantyouto walk me down the aisle, Theo,” she insists. “You.And quite frankly I won’t take no for an answer.”
I feel as if an anvil has dropped on my chest. “I’m just your brother.”
Her jaw shifts. “Don’t say that. Without you...” There’s a glassy sheen to her eyes that I feel mirrored in mine. “I wouldn’t have made it without you. You made sure Mom and I felt loved and taken care of. You’ve stopped at nothing to make sure I’m happy all these years.”
My voice cracks when I say, “Your happiness is the most important thing to me.”
“I know. You gave up your job to live with our grandparents, so I didn’t feel the need to. You take care of Mom while I live hours away.” She shakes her head. “Now it’s your turn.”
“For what?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“To take care of you. To let yourself be happy. You pretend you are—put on a good show, really—but you’re not. You’re too busy worrying about everyone else and not giving yourself the life you deserve.”
The floor wobbles under my feet. “I’m... happy.”
Her face falls. “No, you’re pretending to be because you think it’ll be easier on me. And, god, I’d love to say, ‘Do it for me. Be happy because it makes me happy.’ But that’s bullshit, Theo. Iwant you to be happy foryou.” A tear tumbles down her cheek. “And I don’t think you’ll be able to truly be happy until you can talk about what happened.”
My shoulders shudder with a deep breath. “Talking about it is hard.”
She shakes her head, her face full of sympathy. “But pushing through the hard part is what helps you get better. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It sucks. But you come out better on the other side. Ipromise. I’d love if you talked to me—I’m always going to make time to talk about it with you. But I think it’s even more important for you to stop canceling therapy appointments. Talk to someone who can help you.”
Those appointment nudges come through on a monthly basis, and they’re piling up in the junk folder of my email. Every reminder feels like a punch to the gut, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to block the email—like my subconscious is trying its hardest to push me in the right direction.
“I can see it—you’re keeping everyone at a distance, punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.” Mia shrugs. “And I’m sureit’s hard to hear, but I need you to help yourself. It’s not something we can do for you. You have to decide you want something different.”
My eyes fill with tears. Combined with the conversation with Dave this morning, my emotions are boiling over. Ican’t keep a lid on them.
Then Mia delivers the final blow. “How much more are you going to let him take from you? We’ve lost so much to him. He doesn’t deserve any more of us.”
The dam breaks. A tear tracks down my cheek and Mia makes a devastated noise through the phone. “Dammit, we should’ve had this conversation in person. Ineed to hug you.”
I sniffle. “You can owe me one.”
Her laugh is watery. We’re quiet for a few beats before she tips her head. “Next time I see you, I’ll hug you extra hard.”
