“Because he’s right. Thisisweird. You’re my sister! And he’s practically my brother.”
“I don’t think you have any grounds to be upset with him about it,” I point out.
His nose wrinkles. “Ugh. That’s the worst part. You know he’s never going to let this go, right?”
“Well…” My face falls, that pang in my chest turning into a full-blown squeezing sensation. “He might. Now.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“I walked out on him,” I say quietly. “He needed me, and I just left him there.”
“Did you have a good reason?”
I think back to all the hurtful things Jack said, each remembered word making me feel more and more shitty. I nod back at my brother. “I thought I did at the time.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know…I mean, I know where he was coming from, I do. He’s scared, Ian. He’s scared of losing something important to him.”
“I take it the doctor didn’t have good news yesterday.”
My shoulders slump as I fall back against the couch, sinking into the cushions as I recount everything that happened during Jack’s appointment. I tell Ian how broken he seemed by the news, how morose he’d been after. Ian listens quietly as I tell him about the fight we had, keeping his mouth shut even when he looks angry on my behalf by the end of it.
It isn’t until I finally stop talking that he has something to say.
“He shouldn’t have said those things to you,” Ian tells me. “Especially after everything you’ve been through.”
I nod. “It didn’t…feel good, but I think I understand. I really do.”
“But that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” Ian says.
Another nod. “Right.”
“Jack is…” Ian shakes his head, turning his face to frown at the floor. “Jack has always been the one you go to for a laugh. He’s been that way as long as I’ve known him. Always smiling. Always making sure everyone around him was okay. But there was a moment when he broke his arm last year…I don’t know. I could tellit really freaked him out, worrying that he might have fucked it up beyond repair.”
“He’s been terrified,” I admit. “And I get it, I really do. This is his entire life.”
“I guess I never stopped to think about how that might feel for someone like Jack. I’ve always been a hockey player, but Jack lives andbreathesit. I knew when I found Lila again that there would be other things I wanted to do with my life—that there was more to life than hockey—but Jack…” Ian blows out a breath. “He’s never had that. It’s always been about the game.”
I don’t know if this makes me feel better or worse. It’s probably conceited to think I could be that for Jack after such a short time. Especially given that I’m perpetually fucked-up and unable to deal with my own shit on the best of days.
“Maybe it was unfair of me to leave like I did,” I admit. “I should have heard him out.”
“Don’t do that,” Ian says. “Don’t try to put it all on yourself. It sounds like he made mistakes, and there are consequences to that. Hurting doesn’t give you the right to hurt other people.”
“I don’t think he meant to…”
“But he did,” Ian stresses. “It’s like dropping a plate. You didn’tmeanto break it, but it’s broken all the same. You have to decide then if it’s worth putting the pieces back together or throwing the whole thing away.”
I try to imagine a scenario where Jack would throw it all away, and that clenching in my chest gets worse. It doesn’t help that he didn’t reach out at all after I left. Maybe it’s unfair that I feel that way, given that I told him I needed space, but I thought for sure he would at leasttextme.
But there’s been nothing but radio silence since last night.
“Maybe I’m not worth the trouble,” I say quietly.
Ian rears back. “How could you say that?”
“I mean, look at me, Ian. I’m a mess and a half on the best of days. I’m putting most of my energy into my classes, I work a dead-end job in the meantime, and I can’t even figure out my own shit well enough to stop our dad from continuously trying to ruin my life. Who would want to take on all of that?”