“I didn’t, I—”
He cuts me off with a bite to his tone. “I found the empty bottle, Tor. I found you slumped on the couch.” The anguish in his tone and the dark circles and worry lines around my twin’s usually fresh face have my own lip trembling and tears prick my eyes.
I feel like the most selfish person in the world for causing this pain.
“I, I thought you were dead, you were barely breathing. I got you in the shower. I tried to get those pills out of you. I tried to wake you, I, I…” His voice breaks, and his forehead falls to the hand he’s clutching, and my heart shatters as I remember.
“I didn’t want to die, Harry. I just wanted the noise to stop and the pain to go away. I didn’t mean to—”
He cuts me off again, his angry words slicing me deep as he spits them out. “Didn’t mean to take all those pills, didn’t mean to slip into unconsciousness, so they had to pump your stomach, didn’t mean it, Victoria? What the hell did you think was goingto happen when you took those fucking pills?” His voice grows louder with every word, the guilt over what I’ve done begins to eat me alive.
"I’m so sorry,” I stutter.
His face softens, and moves to sit on the bed beside me, cradling me in his arms.
“I’m sorry for yelling. I thought I’d lost you, Tor. I can’t lose you, never you,” he confesses as he holds me and rocks me just like he did when we were kids, when I’d creep into his room in the middle of the night when I had a bad dream or when there was a thunderstorm. I never went to my parents. I always went to Harry. He has always been my protector—at school, in life, he’s always had my back. Wherever Harry went, I followed. When he joined the military, it felt like I’d lost a limb. I had to learn to cope without him, and clearly, I’ve failed.
“I lost the baby.” Admitting that out loud for the first time forms a pain that slices through me. I didn’t want to tell Harry until he returned home, so every time he called to check in, I lied. I put on a brave face, made my voice sound light and cheerful, and pretended I was coping, when the reality was, I was drowning.
‘I know. Mom told me after I found you. You should have told me. I’d have tried to get back home.”
“I know you would have, and that’s why I didn’t tell you. You can’t keep saving me, Harry.”
“Victoria May Walker, I am your big brother, and I will keep saving you until there’s no air left in my lungs. That’s my job, got it?”
His words warm me, and I let out the faintest giggle at the use of my full name. The first giggle and emotion I have felt in months.
“You are stronger than you think. You can do this, and you don’t need a bottle of pills to do it.”
“What if I’m not?” I confess quietly. “What if I never recover from this?”
“You will, because you’ve got me, and so many others that love you.”
I grip my brother tighter. “I’ve missed you so much,” I admit.
“I’ve missed you too. Just promise me you’ll never do that again, okay?”
“I promise,” I say.
He raises his hand and makes a fist, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
“Promise?” He says it more like a question. I lift my hand to make a fist and bump his.
“Promise.”
When we were kids, to seal a promise or a deal, we would fist pump and then make an explosion sound, and the memory of it brings a small smile to my face because even though the pain of losing Trent and our baby is more painful than I could ever imagine, knowing I have support around me makes me think that maybe I might survive this.
Chapter Thirteen
Noah
When I got the call from Harry that Tori was in the hospital after an overdose, my stomach sank to the floor, and I couldn’t help but blame myself. I promised her I’d be by her side and help take care of her and the baby, and I failed at the first run. I didn’t check in enough; I should have tried to stay instead of going back to Afghanistan, but I know deep down that wasn’t an option. I had to go. My life feels like a collection of broken promises and failures. I can’t seem to do anything right, but getting out of bed these days and showing up for work feels like the hardest challenge of my life. Sleep is nonexistent. I am woken every night by the memories of gunfire, blood, and Scotty’s face, and I can’t see an end to it. But I made Scotty and Tori a promise.
I hate hospitals. I spent too many years in and out of them with my mom for various overdoses or accidents she had whendrinking or because her latest boyfriend beat the shit out of her. They all have that stale, clinical smell, and it only heightens my anxiety about seeing Tori.
I hover outside her hospital room, holding the flowers I picked up for her, and peek through the glass, to see she is finally alone. It’s been a revolving door of family and friends visiting her all day, and it’s clear how loved Tori is. Growing up, it was just me and Ria; whenever something bad happened, it was me and her against the world. There were never family or friends coming to save us. We were on our own, and being nearly four years older than her, I did my best to shield her from as much as I could. She and Alex are due their first baby in just a few weeks, and I am heading to their hometown next week, just outside of New York, to spend some time with her before her world changes, and I think it’s the escape and distraction I need.
I face the door, square my shoulders, and lightly tap the door with the backs of my knuckles.
