“He thought Mom had hidden it from him and had her by the throat up against the bathroom wall,” I say, my voice oddly detached from the battle happening inside me. “It was bad. Really, really bad. She was going limp, and the look in her eyes while this is happening to her—while he’s trying to kill her—is to tell me to run.” I swallow back a sob, pressing my lips together to will the tears not to fall. “I’ll never be able to unsee that.”
“Brooks, I’m so sorry.” Audrey’s voice breaks. “I can’t imagine. I’m sorry for bringing it up. Oh, my God.”
“I grabbed a lamp from the hallway and busted it over the back of his head. He dropped her and came after me.”
“You wanna piece of this, you little motherfucker? Come on then. Get it!”
Stairs. Blood. The sound of knuckles hitting bone.
Sirens. The glass on the back door smashing against the floor.
Hours later, the police showing up at Mom’s hospital bedside and telling us they found his dead body.
“Anyway,” I say, exhaling the stress out of my body, “now you get it.”
She sits up with sleepy eyes, messy hair, and the softest, most concerned look on her face. It steals my breath and damn near stops my heart.
I’ve never shared that with anyone—not in that detail. I’m not sure how I feel about it floating around in the open, but I’m glad if I shared it with anyone, that it was Audrey.
“I think you’re incredible,” she whispers.
“Then you must have a very low threshold for incredibility.”
“No, sir. My bar is exceptionally high. I’ve known a lot of incredible people in my life, and not one of them could endure what you have and kept a heart like yours.”
Her compliments soften the edges of my past minutely, but when the edges are so rough and pointed, even the slightest relief helps. This isn’t what I want to be doing with our time together, though.
“Okay, enough about me,” I say, turning over onto my side and getting her to lie next to me. “Tell me about your parents.”
She sighs. “I’ve painted them in a bad light, and I feel awful about that. They’re great people.”
“People can be two things at once.”
Her bottom lip tugs between her teeth as she seems to consider that. “That’s true, I guess. I just wish I could be more like you and blow off the things that bother me and live my life.”
“Is that what you think I do?” I chuckle. “This shit eats me up. I’m still consumed by it. I think about him every day and wish …”No. Don’t go down that road. “I may not care what other people say about me, but I’m still controlled somewhat by what happened that night—and the years prior to it. I don’t like to get too close to people. I stay in my lane. I let a lot of shit go that probably deserves more attention.”
Like the shit that I know your brother is doing to me. I never should’ve brought us here knowing what I do about him.
“I wake up every morning and check my bank account,” I say in disbelief that I’m sharing this with her. “I have enough money to last me a long time, and it’s not like I couldn’t go get another job doing something. But my checks from the NAFL equal freedom to me. And no matter how much I know down deep that isn’t true, I can’t shake it.”
She looks up at me like a bulb has gone off in her head. I kiss the tip of her nose in hopes she forgets her epiphany, because I’m sure it’s about me, and I don’t need to be analyzed.
“You now know about my dysfunctional family,” I say. “Tell me about yours.”
“Oh, boy. Um, where do I begin?” She sighs. “Well, I’ve never questioned our parents’ love for Drew and me. But they’ve always treated us very differently in a gender bias meets sexism way. He can do whatever, but I’m expected to be …” She frowns. “Perfect. And I’m not.”
I bring her head against my chest and hold her against me. She’s perfect just as she is, and I don’t know if I hate it more that she doesn’t believe that or that her parents make her feel this way.It also makes sense why Audrey is so genuinely lovely and he brother is a complete dick.
“I don’t want to sound like a brat,” she says. “But the pressure has nearly broken me. I woke up one day after a traumatizing rejection from a guy who, on a related note, is invited to myfather’s birthday, so yay me, and realized that I needed to … bloom.”
“Wait. A guy rejected you?”
“Yeah. It was humiliating.”
“For him,” I say, snorting. “I don’t give a fuck who he is—Iguaranfuckingteethat anyone who knows you and has heard of this knows he fumbled you.” I laugh. “What a fool.”
She smiles against my side. “I’m going to have you record a bunch of these things so I can play them when I go back for Dad’s party. My own personal affirmations, courtesy of you.”
