Evan shrugs, squinting the one open eye. “Just to talk.”
I watch my brother closely. While other people believe his lies, I can read right through them. “I told Gabe not to come see you until you recover. Why do men never listen to me?”
Evan cocks his head, gives a knowing look. “Because maybe it wasn’t your choice to decide that.”
I roll my eyes, sip my coffee, and cringe at the stale taste, glancing over Evan’s beaten face. “Since I don’t see any more injuries,” I eventually say, “I take it that the conversation went okay.”
“He hates me.”
Not a surprising answer. And I won’t disagree just to make Evan feel better. He deserves to feel like shit, and I hope the weight of what he’s done will stay with him, making him do better. “Did Gabe tell you that he hated you?”
“No,” Evan says, voice small. “But I saw it in his eyes. He hates me, and for that I can’t blame him. Look what I did to you.” His chin quivers. “Look at your face.”
“I’m okay,” I say, squeezing his hand, hating the sadness forming in my brother’s eyes. It gets me every time. “And you’re okay. That means we’re okay.” I study Evan and can see he’s still hiding things from me. “What else did he say?”
Evan looks down at his coffee cup then takes a long sip before addressing me again. “Well, he also gave me this.” He reaches under the blanket and pulls out a few pieces of paper.
I take them from him and read over the words, seeing it’s about a three-month program at an addiction treatment center in Arizona. That’s not all. The next piece of paper is a first-class plane ticket leaving tomorrow night.
“Gabe gave you this?” I ask
, looking at Evan again.
He nods, slumping against the bed. “I guess he wants me gone.”
“Well, that’s not Gabe’s choice,” I retort, using Evan’s words back on him. “But to be honest, I think he’s likely doing this for me, not because he wants you out of my life.” I slide my fingers against the plane ticket, knowing all of this comes from a good place that I simply doubt Evan can understand. “Gabe probably wants you to get better so that you can’t put me in danger.”
Evan takes another sip of his coffee, one eye fixated on me. “When did you guys get so serious?” he asks after he swallows.
It’s a surprise, I’m sure. The last time Evan and I spoke about Gabe, I’d told him that I was pretty sure I was in love with Gabe, but that love for me never did come easy. He was my boss, and he wouldn’t cross that line.
Now, of course, I can’t help but think that maybe we both owe Evan a thank-you. If this situation had never happened, Gabe likely would never have crossed that line. And now that we had, there was no going back.
Although, all the same, I’m not exactly sure how we can move forward either.
“I guess through all this, we just became closer,” I finally say to Evan. “But I’m not sure where things stand now or how this will all work out.” Feeling weight press against my chest, I drop my head into my hands, rubbing my eyes, not caring that I am likely rubbing mascara everywhere. “Everything is just kind of a mess.”
Silence falls, which soon becomes heavy enough that I drop my hands, looking at Evan again.
Tears well in Evan’s eyes, and his voice blisters. “I always do this to you.”
I sigh, taking his hand, doing what I always do—comfort him. He does always do this to me. In fact, this time was worse than ever because he endangered me. But I knew addiction, I understood it. Addiction makes Evan a bad guy, even though deep down he isn’t. “It was different this time,” I say softly, not to point blame, but to explain. “You put me in danger.”
“I know.” Evan squeezes my hand, tears spilling over. “Fuck, I know. I fucked up so bad.”
Sure, I can tell Evan the things someone might ask Evan. Why do you keep doing this? Or even, please get help. But my words would fall on deaf ears, as they always had. “I don’t know what to say anymore,” I tell him honestly, baring parts of myself I usually don’t bare to him. “I love you. I’ll always love you. But what you did to me . . . to Gabe . . . that can’t ever happen again, Evan.”
“It won’t. I—”
I hold up my hand, stopping him. “Don’t say it. Please just don’t. So many broken promises. I can’t hear them anymore.” I don’t know why those words affect me, but they do.
I realize, apart from my grandmother, Gabe’s the only one who’s stood by me, never letting me down. Sure, he hurt me in the beginning by accusing me. God, did he hurt me when all this began, but he hasn’t hurt me since. In fact, he’s done what he could to make it up to me. And when the time came, I’d picked my brother, a guy who’d repeatedly hurt me—and would continue to do so, I knew that—over Gabe.
I watch Evan’s tears flood his bruised cheekbones, and I stare into his good eye, as he stares back at me. There’s so much being said without having to say anything at all. It’s the complication of what’s before us. It’s knowing that I can’t believe a word Evan says, and that all he wants to do is say them.
“This is a fucked up thing,” he eventually says, breaking the silence.
I nod and sigh. “Addiction is.”