26. Joel #2

Can’t argue with that. I stare at the darkening sky outside the window, my hand curled into a tight fist. When my friend dared me to propose to our girlfriend in front of the school, I didn’t deliberate too hard about it.

I assumed everyone thought like teenage boys jacked up on testosterone and would appreciate the joke.

Maisy, our high school sweetheart, didn’t think marriage was something to joke about. Especially after I proposed in front of the entire grade without Jeremy knowing about it and then laughed at her when she said yes.

I still remember the way my heart leapt when she took the ten-dollar ring and said yes.

For a split second, I’d thought I’d won the lottery, and life was about to explode with meaning.

But then my friends snickered. Their judgement doused me like a fire hose, and I back pedaled like the fucking coward I was.

Told her I was only joking and laughed at her eagerness. Of course she broke it off with me.

And Jeremy? It shattered his young heart.

“You didn’t deserve that.” I pick at a thread on my pants. “Either of you.”

The silence stretches, both of us reliving the painful memories. It wasn’t until Maisy broke things off with me the next day that I realized I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. And I was too proud to chase her, too stupid to beg her for forgiveness.

I thought I’d grown up since then, taking on the responsibilities of a household, a career, and even a fiancé. But here I am, lost and alone all over again, only this time I was the one who got treated like a joke.

Even though I’m angry about it, I can’t help wondering if I’m running away again. Should I be okay with Tracey seeing other men? Do I even deserve to be part of that conversation?

“Maybe I haven’t changed at all.”

Jeremy shifts on the bed, wincing slightly. “Why say that?”

I shrug and slouch back in the visitor’s chair. “I’m running away from Tracey, aren’t I? Maybe I should be on my knees, begging her. Tell her she can date whoever she likes.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not the same, and you know it. You were dumb and reckless back then, but now?” He rolls his lips between his teeth. “Honestly man, you changed around her. I didn’t say anything ’cause I thought that’s who you wanted to be, but I never liked it.”

My twin shrugs one shoulder again. “Not like I’m trying to have a say in your life or anything, but it seemed like she tried to cut the pillars out from under you all the time. Her way or the highway. That’s not love.”

I hum under my breath, cooling relief flowing through me. Alone in his flat, I reached the same conclusion but wasn’t sure if I was going crazy or not.

He fiddles with a corn chip and snaps it in half. “No one person in the relationship gets to dictate whether to open it up or not. I don’t care if packing up is common.” He looks up, pinning me with his gaze. “That decision has to be agreed on jointly. Like we did.”

He’s right. Even as seventeen-year-olds, we talked about both liking the same girl and about sharing her. Felt like common sense.

So when did common sense start becoming so murky? Around the same time I moved in with Tracey, I think.

I straighten. “I’m sorry, Jerry. For the distance, and for ruining things with Maisy. You got the raw end of the deal, and I don’t think I even apologized back then. I’ve been a real ass.”

He sighs, oozing with reluctance. Can’t blame him at all, not when the hurt runs so deep and I took so long to address it.

“Let’s just settle with reconciliation, yeah?”

I nod. That’s a good start, and more than I deserve. Jeremy’s big hearted like that.

Time to shift the conversation. “I bought the trundle bed. It’s crammed into my van, on its side.”

He chews a mouthful of bean sauce and swallows it down. “You certain you aren’t going back to her?”

“Yeah.”

“Then how about we look for a place with two bedrooms? I could use a roommate to water my plants while I’m working.” He wrinkles his nose like he just thought of something bad.

I scoff. “You don’t have any plants.”

“Do too. The Aloe Vera.”

I choke on a laugh. “They don’t even need regular water.”

He throws me an exaggerated look like I’m an idiot. “Is that a no?”

“Of course not.” I hide a grin by lifting my takeaway box. “I’d love to share a house with you.”

“Good. And anyway, I’ll be getting a climber, so it will need watering.”

“Like, a vine?”

“Yeah. A Jasmine bush.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Just because.”

“Alrighty then. I’m sure it’ll be a great friend to the Aloe.”

He swivels my way, and we stare at each other for a long time before breaking into grins.

“Help me get the bed down flat,” he says. “My thigh’s starting to ache again.”

I use the remote and settle him down, getting his leg up on a pillow and the ice resettled. We chat like old times until the nurses start shooting daggerish glares at me, at which point I help my brother change into pajamas and get his phone plugged in.

While he’s occupied with his phone, I dig into the extra box under my chair and pull out a brand-new cowboy hat in the style he loves. This one’s a paler tan than his previous one, so I hope he still likes it.

And least it’s not broken and stained from a car accident.

I drop the gift on the chair where he’ll see it in the morning and then I say goodnight and head out, opening the real estate app while walking through the antiseptic-smelling hallways.

Returning to an empty place where no one’s waiting for me.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.