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“I was too angry to notice anything,” he says, finishing my sentence with a sigh. “Really notice, I mean. I just saw you and Mom hanging out all the time, and I thought she was taking care of you.”

“She didn’t,” I reply. “Not at all. I was with her all the time when I wasn’t at school or ballet lessons because I was afraid that she would just . . . disappear.”

I’m sure Jase knows exactly what I mean when he closes his eyes briefly before looking at me again.

“Damn, we’re so messed up.”

“We were jealous of each other,” I reply. “That’s why we couldn’t see the truth.”

“That too. I hated you because you got everything you wanted and were allowed to do anything,” he admits. It should hurt, right? When your own brother tells you he hated you. Instead, there’s only relief, because I’m no longer alone with this feeling.

“And I hated you because everything was always about you. Mom and Dad didn’t talk about anything else. They weren’t interested in how I was doing or how things were going for me. It was always about you and how they could get you to study medicine and take over the fucking practice.”

Jase’s eyebrows shoot up when he hears me swear. Now I’m the one rolling my eyes. But a small smile appears on his face.

“Our Little Miss Perfect is using nasty language. Interesting.”

“You have no idea.” The corners of my mouth lift into a smile, and for a few seconds, everything is simple and uncomplicated. Then we become serious again, and silence falls between us. There’s so much we need to talk about, so much to catch up on. But I haven’t got the faintest idea where to start.

“Why weren’t you at my graduation?” he finally asks, and suddenly I feel a ton of weight on my chest. I’ve made a lot of mistakes over the last few years, but that was the biggest one.

“I . . . didn’t want to have to hear all about how proud Mom and Dad were of you and how much potential they saw in you. I didn’t want to hear that you were going to go to Harvard and become exactly the son they wanted. And I didn’t . . .” I struggle to find the right words, which are actually only wrong but all the more honest because of it. “I didn’t want to see you up there on stage. Not without Sam.”

“I didn’t want to be up there without him either. I didn’t want to do anything without him. But I had no other choice. And you . . .” Anger flashes in his eyes, along with boundless pain. “You should have been there.”

“I know.” Guilt squeezes the air out of my lungs. My ribs feel like they’re being crushed by a giant fist.

“Mom and Dad weren’t there at all.”

I close my eyes. “I know,” I whisper again. “But I didn’t know it at the time. Otherwise . . .” I shake my head. I would be lying if I said it out loud. I still wouldn’t have gone. Our relationship was too broken for that. We were both too consumed by jealousy. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I should have been there.”

Jase nods silently. “You broke up with Archie?” he asks then.

“He broke up with me,” I correct him. “About six months ago.”

“Six months?” Jase stares at me in disbelief. “And no one knows?”

“No, Katie and Susannah know. I talked to them. But . . . I wanted to talk to Mom about it, and she wouldn’t listen.”

A look of sympathy crosses his face. “I didn’t realize how difficult things were between you.”

“How could you? I didn’t tell you.”

“I know. But I always thought you were so close. You always did so much together.”

“That’s because I was always chasing her,” I say, my voice tense. “I hoped it would change eventually, that we would switch roles again. But she never made any effort to see me. She didn’t even call me when I was in London. Not once. She just waited for me to get in touch. Although I wouldn’t bet on her actually waiting. I think she just didn’t care.”

“That sucks so much!” he almost shouts.

I snort. “Are you surprised? Our whole family sucks.”

“That’s true too.” He gives me a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Jase?” My hand twitches upward, and I hate that I’m still looking for the necklace that’s no longer there. “Why are you here? I mean . . . you have no reason to come to me.”

He pushes back his hair and pulls his legs up until he’s sitting cross-legged on my desk chair. “As bad as last night was, I think it was good. I think I needed to see that. Do you know what I mean?”

I nod, because I actually do.