I’ve never looked at my brother and seen myself so much in a moment. I stood there, frozen, looking in at Kit looking up atmelike I was a hero. Like I was his everything. Reality and fiction fused and blended until I was picturing myself bending over, pressing soft kisses around the bruises around his eye. Around the tender slit in his lip.
I barely got out of there with my heart still in my body. It had tried to beat itself up and over to him, bleeding and raw on the floor at his feet.
Brett has called me a coward, and Iam.Pacing the edges of the house like I’m waiting for someone to give me permission back inside of a life they never kicked me out of. I walked out, eyes open and aware of what the fuck I was doing. Iknew.Every cell in my body is vibrating with the urge to check on him. Toseehim.Touchhim. Just to make sure he’s….
I push the thought away and turn, climb the stairs two at a time, and pause in the doorway of my own room like it doesn’t belong to me anymore.
Kit’s curled up, turned toward the wall. Brett’s not in here now. Just the soft glow of the bedside lamp and the faint rise and fall of the blanket I used just last night. My chest burns seeing him there.
I hover, my heart tugging and my head pushing. I move as quietly as I can across the room and sit on the edge of the bed.
“Kit?”
No answer. Not right away. But then…
“I’m not sleeping.” His tired voice is scratchy. I let out a slow breath and shift, sitting with my back against the headboard.
“Sorry.”
Kit turns his head, blinking up at the ceiling, but I wish he would look at me. “For what?”
“I don’t know. All of it.”
He shrugs one shoulder under the covers. “Doesn’t feel like it’s yours to apologize for.”
It’s quiet again and it gets under my fucking skin. I glance over, watching the outline of him in the dim light.
I miss you, kitten.
“I used to be able to just get in bed with you,” I say, raspy. “When we were younger.”
Kit swallows rough enough that I hear it. “I know.”
“I never asked if it was okay back then. Just did it.”
“You didn’t need to ask.”
I lean my head back, letting it thunk against the headboard. I want to ask something. Anything. Just get him talking to me. I want him to tell me things again. I want to hear him fucking talk about nothing and everything. I want him to make the buzzing in my head stop. I want him to curl into me like he used to. To seek out my touches, my damn company.
But instead, I say, “It doesn’t feel like that anymore.”
“No,” he whispers. “It doesn’t.”
I close my eyes against the truth. It’s weighing me down, making it hard to breathe. “I don’t know how to go back, kitten.”
Kit sucks in a shaky breath and slowly sits up. The hoodie he’s wearing slips down his shoulder, exposing a flash of pale skin. I can't look away.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to,” he finally says.
My heart lurches in my chest.
Kit swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. He looks at me for a beat, and then…
Wordlessly, he crosses the room and climbs into Brett’s bed instead.
No door slams. No shouting. Just the soft rustle of blankets and the weight of a million things left unsaid.
I stare at the ceiling and feel the quiet aftershocks settle deep in my bones. The truth is, it won’t ever be the same again.
