Chapter 22
He reaches out for her, and she wraps comforting arms around him. Friends, she said.
As her face presses into his chest, he says, “Careful with your mask. You don’t want to take in any outside air.”
It chills him to think she might inhale the same deadly chemicals that killed his brother.
While he’s successfully avoided his own FRIENDS group most of his life, he’s pretty sure his protectiveness of this woman isn’t the way most people feel about their FRIENDS.
Warmth permeates his chest as she strokes soothing circles on his back, holding space for him as he processes his long-avoided feelings.
That had to be what Jerme felt for the woman who broke his heart.
Electra told him their relationship sounded codependent.
But the way she makes him feel can’t be harmful, can it?
Holding her at the location of his brother’s death feels like a betrayal in some ways, and an awakening in others.
But is it really when there’s a Jerme currently growing in his closet?
He braces as a wave of shame washes over him.
He’s suspected, since manupartners disgust Electra, she’ll be disgusted by his bringing back his dead brother.
Their heartfelt conversation will only make it worse.
“I meant it when I said Jerme would like you.” He knows it’s true because he likes her.
He’s known he likes her for a while—a real human female who is everything a manupartner isn’t.
Not as a friend, which scares the shit out of him.
It’s a stunning realization to come to on the anniversary of Jerme’s death, of all days.
He’s sexually attracted to her and finds her intriguing, but this feeling is something more.
He knows this because all thoughts of hooking her up with Jerme have officially flown out the window. He needs her for himself.
“What was he like?” Electra asks.
“My twin was the fun-loving one. Always joking. He never took anything too seriously. That was always my role. He was quick to love and laugh. Slow to forgive and forget. He always had strong emotions. Look where it landed him.”
Her arms squeeze his ribcage because she’s already attuned to him enough to understand there is nothing she can say to ease what he’s feeling.
For decades after starting CHOICElover, he’s always been able to stand here and honor his brother’s memory while holding himself together.
Being here with her makes him feel seen, which only makes the pain worse.
This time, as the tears roll down his cheeks, he feels them acutely.
As if the pain he’s been storing has only now found a path out.
“Our mother told us the genes responsible for temperament were the only ones that didn’t get perfectly duplicated. I often wondered if they’d been more evenly distributed, if something might have been different for Jerme. Maybe he wouldn’t have fallen so hard and taken the loss so deeply.”
He braves a glance at Electra to find her staring up at him. She shrugs. “I don’t know. It sounds like in being happy-go-lucky all the time, he was putting up a shield for something he was fighting in secret.”
A heaviness hits his chest as if someone struck him. How does she dive right into the heart of things like that? This time it’s his hidden shame. His instincts are screaming, Clam up. Run. Do whatever it takes to hide from this woman. She’ll take everything. She’ll ruin you.
But he closes his eyes as different words tumble from his lips.
“If I’d known what he was going through, I could have done something.
I should have seen him better and fixed it.
I feel responsible.” That would mean no CHOICElover, but he would trade his company for Jerme.
“If I could do it all again, I would do everything differently.”
“Oh, Res6, it isn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.” She runs her fingers through his hair, combing it with soothing strokes until he finally opens his eyes.
Zorg, they need to get inside. His mask is foggy from his tears and hot breath.
“Come on. Enough of this. I can’t dwell on the past forever.
” He drags her back to the SAT garage where they parked.
Once they’re safely inside the building, they remove their masks.
“Thank you. That wasn’t pleasant, but I think I needed it. ”
Twenty minutes later, they’re sitting in a small booth at his favorite lunch spot, an Italian café called Linguini Land. He’s pulled himself together enough to tease, “Between the two of us, I think we’ve shed enough tears this month, don’t you think?”
She chuckles. “Yes, I think so. We’ve earned a glass of wine. Is there rosé still?”
“Yes, you’ll want to order the PinkVine. And I’d suggest the CKin fettuccini. The chef here makes all the sauces from scratch.” Res6 sets his menu down. He comes here often enough that the server knows his selection.
Once the order’s placed and their Vine’s been delivered, Electra leans over. “Now that I understand the price of things, I feel a little guilty ordering the faux meat.”
“Please don’t start with the money issue. Pick something else to pester me about or I’ll be forced to send for Chryl to act as a distraction.”
Electra lets out a throaty laugh, waving her hands in submission. “Fine. Fine. How jealous do you think she is right now that we’re out without her?”
“Can someone be ravenously jealous?”
Electra snorts. “I’m sure a manupartner can.” She clears her throat, shifting to face him in the booth. “I have a question. If it’s too upsetting, you don’t have to answer, but I’m curious—since you know it’s possible, has it ever crossed your mind to bring someone back intentionally?”
Panic flashes through him. Does she know he’s trying to grow Jerme in the locked room? She knew about his death. He examines her intently. She’s grinning, so she must be blissfully unaware.
Res6 leans back in his chair, trying to adopt a casual facade.
Leave it up to equally curious Electra to conjure the possibility.
One day, when he succeeds, he’ll have to tell her.
She’ll be livid, of course, and probably want nothing to do with him, which he’ll count on Jerme to smooth over.
Or he can tell her now and suffer her disgust. But he might fail and lose her.
Is it worth it to upset her when things are going so well?
Especially in light of his burgeoning feelings.
Better for him to wait to confess until after he succeeds. Zorg, he can’t wait till Jerme is back.
He clears his throat. “No, I’ve never considered that.”
She nods. “That’s probably a good thing. I can’t imagine the ethical considerations. For example, if someone didn’t wish to be brought back, doing so might take away their agency . . . or cause them more emotional pain.”
That can’t be true. There are thousands of stories of people surviving a suicide attempt and regretting the attempt afterward.
Despite that, the weight of her words hangs in the air between them.
By her sympathetic expression, he knows they’re thinking about the same person.
Not vivacious and full of life Electra, of course.
Jerme. He’s always assumed his twin’s decision was a mistake.
That Jerme got caught up in the emotions of an especially bad day.
He thought if he could just show him how loved he was, he’d see the reason for living.
But what right does he have to undo Jerme’s choice? Would Jerme wish to stay dead?
The question makes bile rise in his throat.
Her gaze is dissecting, like she’s prodding around his insides with a laser scalpel. She must decide he’s not the monster he actually is because she reaches across the table, brushing his arm. “Res6, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” he says decidedly. Because in the footage he’s watched a dozen times, Jerme never staggered back toward the door.
Never even looked at it. He just sat down on the sidewalk, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.
The undeniable truth, which he’s avoided until this second, is right before him, forcing him to speak.
Though it makes his chest feel like it’s being ripped in two for a second time, he says, “Jerme probably wouldn’t want to be brought back. ”