“I’ll say no.”
Christopher still stared straight ahead. Both hands clutched the steering wheel in front of him, as if it could keep him afloat. He looked skyward and gasped for breath, as though he, too, found the air insufficient.
He looked destroyed, and I wanted to comfort him, but couldn’t find the strength to reach out. He was breaking my heart.
“I didn’t understand how much you meant to Brandon,” Christopher said. “Or I never would have pursued you. He’ll think I came between you, and I can’t do that. He’s my brother.”
His voice broke.
“I waited too long to ask you out the first time and he asked first. I didn’t want to make the same mistake and watch you move on with someone else.”
He wouldn’t look at me. The final words formed like bubbles rising to the surface. Inevitable that they would burst.
“I can’t hurt Brandon. He was so excited to tell me he wants to marry you. You’re amazing, so of course, he loves you. I can’t destroy my relationship with my brother. For most of my life, he’s all I’ve had. He’d be devastated. I’m so sorry.”
I expected them, but the words still stabbed like a dagger to my heart.
“Before our relationship gets any more serious, we have to stop.”
He still wouldn’t look at me. For two perfect nights and the day in between, I’d been cherished and there was no going back. Brandon would never be enough. This had been real, but it was over before it had started. No matter what I said, Christopher wouldn’t change his mind. Brandon was his brother.
“Maybe after enough time has passed.”My last desperate grasp for hope—but he’d already slipped away. Either he didn’t hear or he didn’t want to answer.
We’d dropped Ember at home on the way, so I had nothing to carry. I escaped from the confines of the car. Tears streamed down my face and I couldn’t speak. I sobbed so hard I couldn’t catch my breath as I stumbled away.
At the edge of the park, I looked over my shoulder. His car was still parked, and he’d slumped over, his face in his hands. Building the bricks in my mind, I vowed to practice every day and keep him out. I sent one last message. He was trying to do the right thing and I should, too.
“It’s for the best.”The lie broke my heart.
Once out of sight, I collapsed to the ground and wept.
2017 was no better than 2022.
Chapter 8
Desolate after Christopher and I stopped spending time together, I wallowed for a few days. When I patched myself together, I forced myself to be practical. We’d had the best sex of our lives, but he wasn’t my boyfriend. There’d been potential, but that was all we had—oodles of potential and insane chemistry.
I took a leap of faith and reached out to my friend Jeff back east. It hadn’t been as long for him, and he answered right away, commiserating with me about my loss. His long-time boyfriend had cheated on him and they’d broken up, too. We made plans to get together later in the summer when he would come to town for a long weekend. His upcoming visit gave me something to look forward to. I’d missed having a friend and was excited to reconnect, but it wasn’t like having someone nearby to talk to.
I fell back on what I always did in times of stress—I trained, worked in the lab, and read a mountain of books. In the evenings, I researched the company Brandon worked for and followed leads from his messages I’d intercepted. I emailed Benny Jacobs at the Reno address. Most nights, I read until exhausted enough to fall asleep. Sometimes I kept the nightmares at bay by concentrating on positive memories, but woke hot and sweaty with thoughts of Christopher that turned my insides to jelly.
Embarrassed after my conversation with my sister, I didn’t want to explain what had happened with Christopher. I didn’t want to voice that something I’d been so excited about had gone nowhere. I let my family think that a combination of work and Christopher kept me busy on three consecutive Sundays, but I noticed myself falling into the same trap as before. I was pushing them away, which wasn’t my intention.
After this realization, I attended the next Sunday dinner without explaining Christopher’s absence. Meghan asked, but I ignored her questions. I should’ve dealt with my feelings instead of suppressing them, but I was excellent at avoidance. Instead, I offered to help Meghan with her plans for the wedding next May. When she suggested I see a doctor regarding my missing voice, I shrugged. She wasn’t pleased, but didn’t say more that evening. She would bring it up again soon.
The silver lining to my life in this time was that Christopher had scared Eric away. That relationship was a mistake I wouldn’t have to relive. I didn’t expect to hear from Christopher unless it was news of Brandon’s coma and he needed my help. Despite his avowal of love, I hadn’t heard from Brandon either.
I avoided Christopher at work, coming and going at odd hours. Each time the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, I held my breath until I realized he wasn’t there. Afterward, my heart ached, and I wondered how he was. I wanted to see him, but avoided him all the same. It must be difficult for him too. The pain in his face when I’d last gotten out of his car hadn’t been hard to read.
I guarded my thoughts in the museum and found my control improved daily. I didn’t know how far away he needed to be to read minds, so I didn’t take chances. My cheeks flamed. Had my feelings been intrusive? At first, it exhausted me to imagine the bricks encasing my thoughts for long. It had been something I’d always done, but only for a few minutes at a time, not extended sessions. Blocking out thoughts of Christopher took practice. I couldn’t turn off my feelings for him or my loneliness, but the wall helped me to cope.
Just as I had in 2020, when I first lost my voice, I switched all communication to email and made an appointment with my future therapist. I needed a note for HR that said I couldn’t speak, but that I was working on recovering my voice.
I made the appointment via Zoom for a Thursday afternoon. It would be odd. Dr. Maeve wouldn’t know me, but I missed talking with her, even if I was limited to the chat section.
At the appointed time, I logged in, looking forward to seeing her friendly, wrinkled face.
“Darling, you missed your last session,” were her first words.
