Back to Willow (Back Series Book 1)

TWENTY-TWO

The obnoxiously loud and continuous sound of the doorbell wakes me up.

“Who the hell is ringing this aggressively at six a.m. on a bloody Sunday?” I hear Nana’s angry voice walking down the corridor as I groan.

“I’ll go, Nana. Go back to bed,” I say as I open my bedroom door and step out into the corridor.

“No, no! I’ll go get my fake gun just in case,” she mutters, shocking me in place.

“Nana, are you out of your mind? There’s no need,” I whisper-shout. “I will look through the peephole, and if it’s some weirdo, we’ll call the police.”

Going down the stairs, I close my robe tighter to my body and knot the ribbon around my waist. Perching myself on my toes, I peek through the peephole to see who is on our porch at this ungodly hour—on a bloody Sunday.

My eyes zero on a mop of messy brown hair first since the figure is looking down. When it moves, the light sensor snaps and the light turns on, showing better the big, bulky man on the other side. When he raises his head and looks right into the peephole, even though he can’t see me, I can, and I am met with the warmest green eyes and the goofiest smile I’ve ever had in my life.

“Ahhh!” I shriek, opening the door right away.

On the other side stands my big brother with the widest smile on his face. He’s wearing a plain white T-shirt with his signature dark jeans. I barely give him time to open his arms before I jump into his embrace, wrapping both my arms and legs around him.

“Aren’t you a little too old for this kind of hug by now, Lo?” Jake chuckles.

He always complained about my clinginess but never really did anything to stop it. So, I counter with a shrug. “I’ll never get too old for some sibling love!”

With me not really moving, he decides to enter the house with me still wrapped around his torso.

“Jakey, my boy. What a lovely surprise!” Nana exclaims, finally putting down that ridiculous artifact.

He bends down, and I begrudgingly let go of him, letting him greet Nana. He kisses her cheek and gives her a light side hug. When she turns around to go store the gun, he lip-syncs the words “crazy old woman”, making me chuckle.

As always, Jake is unpredictable. Even though we are opposites, we always got along perfectly. He was never too protective until that night, especially because I spent ninety-five percent of my time with Liam, and he knew I was safe. But after everything went down, a lot changed, and his protectiveness only grew.

Even with the distance still existing between us, he comes around so often to spend time with Dylan and me. Always has, since I left to live with Nana. Besides the quality time, he also took it upon himself to do all the things that normally the father of the child would. The appointments, the ultrasounds, the shopping sprees…

I know he always felt responsible and obliged to help me every time he could. The distance didn’t allow him to be present on a daily basis, so he compensated however he could. And even though I told him—and still do—time and time again that he doesn’t have to do all of this, there is no deterring him.

It’s hard and tiring sometimes, not only physically but emotionally. I noticed the ever-present sadness swirling around his eyes whenever my bump got bigger, the unusually long periods of time he’d just hold Dylan against his chest or the way he’d watch him so closely or trace his tiny nose, chin, and hands. It was hard on him, too, even if I don’t understand the real reason.

I never dared ask, but he knew he could tell me if he wanted or needed to. Still, he never said no to us. He still doesn’t say no and there’s no way I can stop him. There’s no going against Jacob Hanlon.

“Can I go wake up our little champ?” he asks, breaking my little reverie.

“Go ahead,” I tell him. “It’s almost time for him to wake up anyway. I’ll set up breakfast for us.” I smile as he excitedly kisses my forehead. Then he disappears into the hallway towards the stairs.

For whatever reason, he—or the gods—have decided, he’s still single. Ever since that nasty break-up he had a few weeks before I left, he has never settled down again. His only focus was his goal after college—becoming an architect.

And he did. Now, he comfortably lives in his penthouse in the capital, making good money. Thankfully, he can’t be around every day now, otherwise, he’d be spoiling all three of us instead.

Not even five minutes after I start preparing the food for breakfast, I hear loud laughter from upstairs followed by Jake’s signature chuckle. Just hearing them makes me smile.

After that slump at the zoo, this is a good surprise for Dylan. The best distraction to give me some time. Hopefully, enough so I can figure out how to solve this.

Just as I am about to finish everything, Jake shows up carrying my kid by the legs, upside down.

“Jay, what the hell are you doing to my child?” I exclaim, horrified.

“This monkey asked for it. He just mocked his uncle.” Jake scoffs while manhandling him from one hand to the other, and Dylan all but giggles at the action.

Eventually, everyone settles to eat breakfast. Dylan is hyper about having Jake with us for the entire week until his birthday—instead of just the predicted weekend. He’s telling Jake everything from when we got here to meeting Abby and his new friends at school. And even though, by the end of his speech, everyone surely feels tired of listening to him, no one shows it—especially not my brother.

We spend the morning in the park. Jake keeps busy with us the whole time, not even checking his phone which keeps ringing.

When we are getting ready to leave, I can’t help but blurt, curious, “How come you are this good with kids and don’t have your own yet? You’re older than me for god’s sake. You’re almost twenty-seven!”

For a split second, his expression falls. Anyone else wouldn’t notice, but I do.

Pain. It has been silently present ever since he and Daniela broke up, more so at first. And even though I tried to coax it out of him, he always refused, probably not wanting me to worry about him while my life was a hurricane in itself.

The period following their split was the wildest—one-night stands and casual encounters. There hasn’t been a stable girlfriend ever since. While I used to think it must have been a phase, I am starting to realise now…

My brother’s heart has been bruised far deeper than I ever thought, and it pains me that I haven’t been there for him as he has been for me. This is the look of a man who has been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. For years.

Surprisingly, he recovers, smiling widely and answering me, “Well, sis, I have too much love to share for now. And kids are for when you settle down. I’m still too young for that.” He laughs but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

If it were any other person saying those words, I would have been offended, but I get what he means. The commitment phobia is palpable in his voice, the desperate need to be as free as a bird and taste as many fish as the ocean has to offer so he doesn’t get burned again.

There’s no need for more words, knowing he will only open up when he’s ready. That’s why I squeeze his hand in silent comfort and understanding. In return, he raises our hands, kissing my knuckles.

“I’m hungry,” he mutters, breaking the moment.

Dylan overhears, turning his attention to us and nodding eagerly in agreement. So, we walk to Shilah’s dinner, just short of ten minutes away from the park. The moment we enter and Shilah’s eyes lands on us, my son rushes to the counter in excitement, telling her all about Jake.

“He’s staying until my birthday!” he exclaims, making her chuckle.

“When is that buddy?”

“Next weekend,” he answers her. “At least, that’s what Mummy says.”

She hums, with a focused frown on her eyebrows before asking, “What are you going to do for your birthday, then?”

Instead of answering, he looks at me with an expectant gaze. I’ve thought about doing a small party for his friends at the house, but I haven’t told him anything yet. I wanted to speak with the parents and invite them first—to make sure I’ll have some guests.

“I’ll probably throw him a party back at home for his school friends,” I give in to his puppy eyes, answering. His eyes sparkle with happiness, and I can’t help but add, “If Dylan behaves until then.”

The megawatt smile falters, and we can’t help but chuckle.

After that, we all sit down in a booth, and Shilah quickly brings us some food. Jake and Dylan spend the entire time in their typical banter, lifting my mood. In their presence, I forget all of the troubles and problems that plague my mind. They make it seem easier, even if just for a little while.

“Hey, kiddo!” Hannah calls from the counter. “I have a surprise for you back here. Do you want some dessert?”

He nods eagerly and looks at me in question, but as soon as I nod in agreement, he jumps out of the booth and runs towards Hannah. Is he a toddler or a starved dog? Sometimes, I can’t find the difference.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jake nudges me with his shoulder, bringing my attention to him.

“So what’s new, sis?” he asks with curiosity oozing out of him.

“Nothing much, uh—” I pause to collect my thoughts. “After that encounter I told you about, I have tried to talk to him but couldn’t. And ran away…again.”

“Lo,” he sighs, shaking his head negatively. “You not telling me or Nana, I understand. But sis, think about Dylan. Liam deserves to know.”

“I can’t talk about what truly happened; I’m not ready.”

“Have you thought about going to a therapist? It might help…”

Jake’s right. He’s always right, but the mere thought of talking about it makes my throat clog up. The panic always rises so high my brain gets foggy and my heartbeat skyrockets. I get enough of these as it is. Diving into them willingly? No, thank you.

I just want to forget.

As if my brother just read my mind, he mutters, “There’s no forgetting it, Lo. You just learn to live with it.”

I nod but don’t answer, and Jake keeps quiet for a bit. At the far end of the diner, Hannah is giving Dylan a chocolate mousse, helping him eat it without getting it on his shirt. We both watch them in silence for a few seconds, the heaviness of the previous conversation still hanging around us.

Talking about Liam and all of this is the last thing I want to do today. The goal is to enjoy the little time I get to spend with my only brother before he has to go back home. But apparently, he has other plans.

“You need to tell Liam,” he mutters, pain lacing his rough voice.

“About what?” I ask, playing dumb.

He scoffs. “About Dylan; what else?”

“Jake…” I sigh, not really knowing what to say anymore.

Rationally, I know what I need to do. But my heart has been so battered before that I don’t know if it could take any more pain.

“He deserves to know, Lo. The sooner the better, otherwise, he won’t forgive you,” he says with a soft tone.

“The worse has been done. He won’t forgive me either way…”

“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “Look, sometimes love is strong enough to overlook all of that and forgive. If he loved you the way I know he—”

“Stop.” My voice comes out shaky, cracking right at the end. “Please, Jay. I don’t—”

“What if he sees you around town with Dylan, huh? What then? That boy is the carbon copy of Liam. He’ll put two and two together, and—”

“Mummy?” My shoulders sag at the sounds of Dylan’s voice, interrupting us.

Thank goodness.

“Yes, baby?” I pull him onto my lap.

“Your friend just left.”

What? What friend? Is he talking about Johanna?

“Johanna? Why didn’t she come to say hello?”

“No, Mummy. The one that stayed with me while you were working here,” he clarifies.

That’s...Arthur?

“Oh.” I am at loss for words.

“Yeah, he said hello, and then he left. I think he was sad, Mummy.”

My jaw slacks open, and I look at Jake. He has a brow cocked upwards, and I know I’ll have to answer his questions in the future. He will be all about who the hell is the person Dylan was talking about, and that is one conversation—well, another one—I don”t want to have.

“I don’t know, baby; maybe something happened to him. I’ll ask him when I see him. Have you finished your dessert?” He nods in response. “Good. We can go home now.”

We both pay for lunch and thank Shilah for having us. When we exit the diner, I see my professor leaning against a car and smoking. His face is hunched down and shaking from side to side. From afar, I can’t be sure, but it looks like he is muttering something to himself.

Just as I’m about to look away, he lifts his head, and we lock gazes. He seems pained, but I can’t understand properly why. This man is the most mysterious and confusing one I’ve ever met. Why is he here? And why does it seem like he is waging a war with himself?

Seeing him like this reminds me of the night we talked to each other out here after my shift. How he showed his intentions for us to become...friends?

Maybe I was a fool to refuse it, to refuse him because now it looks like he needs one.