Just a small, broken sound between us, his hand fisting in my shirt like he was drowning. And I kissed him back.
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even something I meant to do. It was gravity. The kind that pulls you under before you realize you’re gone.
When Mom made herself known, we jumped apart like kids caught stealing. Caleb’s face went white. I’ll never forget that look—terror, shame, and heartbreak layered over the quiet plea in his eyes begging me to pretend it didn’t happen.
He ran.
I don’t blame him.
If it had been his dad, the house might have come down.
I didn’t.
Mom didn’t yell. Didn’t curse. Didn’t even look surprised. She just said my name, low and tired, like she’d been waiting for this all along.
After Caleb ran, she stayed across from me. No judgment.
I couldn’t meet her eyes at first.
She knew, and a part of me thinks maybe she’d always known. My mother knows me better than anyone. It would onlymake sense that she would have caught on that her son was in love with his stepbrother.
All she said to me that night was that I need to take care of him. That he has suffered so much and needed love.
That was the only talk we ever had about it. She’s never brought it up again. But those words haunt me every time I see Caleb’s face.
He needs love.
If only it were that simple.If only he would let me love him.
I turn off the lights and sit on the couch. His hoodie’s still here—gray, frayed at the sleeves, smelling faintly like his cologne. I pull it over my face and breathe him in like it’ll make the ache in my chest settle.
It doesn’t.
My phone buzzes.
Caleb
Thanks for dinner. And the talk.
I type, delete, and type again before settling on something that doesn’t sound like I miss you already.
Miguel
Anytime. Text me when you’re home.
He answers fast.
Caleb
I will.
I stare at that message too long before replying.
Miguel
Good. I like knowing you’re safe.
The dots appear, then vanish. No reply.
