Chapter 9
Sam
There was no feeling in the world more frustrating than knowing something was wrong with someone I cared deeply about but not knowing what it was or what I could do about it. Brian clearly wasn’t as fine as he said he was, but hell if I knew why.
“I know he was upset about this morning,” I said, bouncing the whole thing off Gilbert, Diccon, and Theo once I got back to the house.
“Which was totally Gilbert’s fault,” Diccon added, sending Gil a flat look across the kitchen, where we’d all congregated.
“I accept the blame, and I’ll apologize to him as soon as I can,” Gilbert said, holding up his hands.
He still wore his uniform from the evening’s baseball game and desperately needed a shower.
“I blame the whole thing on Kyle anyhow. That snake has gotten so far under my skin. That stupid construction project can’t finish up fast enough. ”
I sent Gilbert a sideways look as I filled a glass in the sink. Something about what he said hit in an unexpected way, like it somehow contained the answer.
“Did Brian say anything to you at all about why he’s suddenly acting so distant?” Theo asked, frowning like he was puzzling through a particularly tricky architectural problem.
I finished swallowing my water, then shrugged. “No, not really. He sent me a voice message earlier in the day, after he left his shift early, saying that he was okay. He sounded okay at that point, but he was clearly upset by the time he got back to the café. I just can’t figure it out.”
“Brian goes quiet when something hurts him,” Diccon said, leaning against the counter and studying me. “He doesn’t like to make a fuss or bother anyone with his problems.”
“But he wouldn’t be bothering me,” I said, sounding as frustrated as I felt. “I want him to feel like he can rely on me, like his problems are my problems.”
“That’s sweet,” Diccon said, glancing to Theo, then sliding his arm around Theo’s waist as he came to lean against the counter with Diccon. “But that sort of trust takes time to grow.”
“I know,” I sighed. “And I’m willing to give it time.
But I also feel like we’ve had time. We’ve had years.
I’ve liked him this whole time, but lately…
.” I let my words trail off as the affection I had for Brian pulsed through me, both the sweet and the painful.
I just wanted to be there for the man I loved.
I loved him. Those weren’t just words. I’d cared for Brian for ages, but in the last few weeks, that had blossomed into so much more. Maybe it was archaic of me, but Brian felt like mine, like he could be a part of me and I could be a part of him.
Which is why it hurt so much to be shut out.
I realized that Diccon was staring at me. It was jarring enough to pull me out of the sentimental hole I’d dug for myself. “What?” I asked him, the same way I would if I’d suddenly realized I had spinach stuck in my teeth.
Diccon’s expression pinched for a second before he said, “I know you’ve known Brian for years, but are you sure you know everything about him?”
It was a harmless enough question, but as soon as Diccon asked it, I knew he was aware of something I wasn’t.
“What do I need to know about him?” I asked, putting my water glass down and crossing my arms.
Diccon winced even harder and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not really my business to say anything,” he said.
“What, were you sworn to secrecy or something?” Gilbert asked with a frown.
“Actually, yes,” Diccon answered, frowning right back at Gil.
My heart rate kicked up a few notches with worry. “Is he alright?” I asked, letting my arms drop and gripping the edge of the counter. “Is he sick or something? Does he need help?”
“It’s not anything like that,” Diccon said, smiling just enough to put me at ease.
He looked torn for a moment as he bit his lip, then let out a heavy breath.
“I honestly swore I wouldn’t say anything, but I’m also surprised the two of you haven’t figured it out yet.
” He glanced between me and Gilbert. “There’s something Brian struggles with, that he’s had to adapt his life around, and that he’s incredibly sensitive about. ”
“Come on,” Gilbert said, smirking at Diccon. “This isn’t games night. You can’t just drop a bunch of clues and then leave us hanging.”
I agreed with Gilbert, but I also respected Diccon’s attempts to be a good friend. His cryptic revelation had me racking my brain to put together all the clues and solve the mystery.
“I know Brian has some self-esteem issues,” I spoke my thoughts aloud, even though part of me wanted to work things out on my own, not with my brothers.
“He told me about his parents once, about how they’re both university professors.
He implied they’re disappointed in him for not sticking with college. ”
“Getting warmer,” Diccon said.
More puzzle pieces seemed to appear in my mind, but they weren’t quite connecting yet.
“He overreacted to me yelling at him this morning,” Gilbert said.
“I’m not sure it’s helpful for you to say he overreacted when you snapped at him for something as petty as not reading the sign on the door,” I told Gilbert with a flat look.
That sparked something else, which was immediately eclipsed as another thought came to me.
“What time did he arrive for games night tonight?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure anyone would have the exact answer. “Was he there when we were in the office, complaining about Jameson?”
“What were you saying about Jameson?” Diccon asked, looking concerned.
“That the man is an idiot,” Gilbert answered immediately. “And a thorn in my side. That he’s the worst thing that ever happened to Common Grounds and I wish he’d never been born.”
“Did you really say all those things?” Diccon asked, his eyes going wide with incredulity.
“Not in so many words,” Gilbert said, “but I stand by that.”
“Brian must have overheard our conversation,” I said, heart sinking to my gut. “He must have heard something and thought we were talking about him.”
I really hoped I was wrong, but Brian was sensitive. If he really did have self-esteem issues about not living up to his parents’ expectations for intelligence, then anything he might have overheard Gilbert venting about could have struck a raw nerve.
“I need to go talk to him,” I said, pushing away from the counter and crossing the kitchen to grab my keys. “If he’s upset about something he overheard, something that isn’t true, then I don’t want to let this fester and get worse.”
“Good,” Diccon called after me as I headed for the door. “But make sure you listen to him with understanding when he tells you what’s wrong.”
Those words hit me with a strange chill, making me wonder what Diccon had known this whole time and hadn’t shared.
Whatever it was, he wouldn’t be the only one who knew Brian’s secret for long.
All I wanted to do was care for my new boyfriend and give him everything he needed to be happy.
I just hoped he trusted me enough to confide in me.
Brian’s apartment wasn’t that far from our house. I made it there fairly quickly. It was late enough that traffic was light, but not so late that showing up unannounced would disturb Brian after he’d already gone to bed. At least, I hoped he hadn’t already gone to bed.
I parked on the street, then pulled out my phone before getting out of the car. I should text him to warn him that I was there. But as I started typing out the message, something occurred to me out of the blue.
What if Brian had trouble reading?
I let out a breath and lowered my phone.
Could that explain everything? It might explain why he’d sent me a voice message in reply to my text earlier.
It could also explain why he’d walked into the office that morning despite the sign on the door.
And it might also cover a bunch of other random things that had happened over time, like using the wrong cleaning products when the labels changed or getting nervous when he was asked to read the rules for the new game that evening.
But was it really feasible that someone in their mid-twenties couldn’t read?
Maybe if they had some sort of learning challenge that they’d never told anyone about.
“Sweetheart,” I murmured as if I was already face to face with Brian. If all this really did come down to reading, then I wanted to move heaven and earth to give my man whatever help and support he needed.
I got out of the car and walked around to Brian’s apartment door without texting him first. Texting would probably be more stressful than me just knocking on the door. As soon as I knocked, I took a step back and waited, my mind racing over the best way to help in a situation I didn’t understand.
A few seconds later, Brian answered the door with a curious look. That expression immediately popped into shock that spread a gorgeous pink across Brian’s cheeks. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Is it alright that I’m here?” I asked. “Can I come in?”
Brian gaped at me for another few seconds before snapping his mouth closed and shaking his head like he was trying to clear his thoughts. “Yeah. Sure. Come in.”
He stepped back, gesturing for me to enter. As I did, I swept an appreciative glance over the way he was dressed. He had on plaid pajama bottoms that had seen better days and a faded t-shirt with the University of Pittsburgh logo on it. Which felt ironic, given the circumstances.
“Why are you here?” Brian asked as soon as he’d shut the door behind him, sealing us into his cozy apartment together. “I mean, sorry. That sounded rude.” He shook his head, his face going even pinker.
“I’m worried about you,” I said, deciding on honesty and caring from the start. “I know something is wrong, and even though you’re under no obligation to tell me anything, I kind of hope you will.”
Brian seemed to curl in on himself a little. He hugged himself with one arm, rubbing his bicep and looking down. “Nothing is wrong,” he lied. I could tell it was a lie.