CHAPTER 3
ROMAN
The drive back to Ryan and Drew’s apartment was blissfully short. I'm not sure how long I could have stayed cramped into the back of Drew’s sports car. I mean it's a nice car, a really nice car but it certainly wasn’t manufactured for a six-foot-five, three-hundred-pound man to sit in the back. Their apartment is as nice as their car. Modern and sleek. I can see how well my brother has done for himself.
I’m studying the massive sketch framed on the wall. It kind of looks like Professor X and Magneto in a highly compromising position. It’s hilarious. The scraping of nails on the hardwood floor pulls my attention to two English bulldogs, dressed in tuxedos, charging into the room, tongues lolling as they sniff at my legs and boots and then proceed to hump a leg each.
“Thor! Loki! Bad puppies, we do not sexually assault guests,” Drew hollers as Ryan scoops up both dogs who immediately start to lick his nostrils and eye sockets. A laugh bursts from me. The tension from the evening and the silent car ride falls away as I watch my little brother happily be bathed by doggy tongues.
“Thor and Loki huh? Still into comics I see," I say teasingly, making sure he knows I’m not making fun of him. I step forward and scratch each dog on their neck folds. These are some seriously cute doggies.
Standing face to face with my little brother, in his home with his fiance and his fur babies, seems surreal to me. I’ve thought so much about Ryan and what his life was like. Hoping that whatever he was doing, wherever he was, that he was happy. Making the decision to cut contact with my family while I was locked up may have been the right thing to do at the time, but in hindsight, I should have given them the choice.
“I’m so happy for you, Ry-Ry,” I tell him earnestly before walking around to sit down on the armchair Drew directs me to. He offers me another beer and as much as I want to be clear headed for this conversation I can’t deny that my nerves are getting the best of me. I take the bottle and wait for Ryan to settle the dogs and join us. He and Drew sit opposite me on the couch making this feel like an interrogation of sorts. Like I'm on trial, which I guess I am.
“Okay, so what I know is that fifteen years ago my brother, my hero, was arrested and thrown into prison for beating a man almost to death. That man was a teacher at my school and he identified you as his attacker. Now, Mom always protested your innocence, but how can you be innocent when the victim points the finger at you, never mind all of the other evidence. Hell, you were arrested in the guy’s house,” Ryan says, his hands open and raised like he's giving me the opportunity now to give him what I should have given him a long time ago. I just pray that he’ll believe me.
Starting from the beginning, I explain how I was infatuated with Mr. Hobbs, how back then I didn’t see a problem with such a small age gap or the power imbalance between a student and a teacher, or hell, even the fact that what he was doing with me was illegal. I don’t hide anything. I admit that I pursued him, hard, and fell for him even harder. Ryan stays silent as I speak, but Drew seems to get closer and closer to the edge of his seat as I recount the events of the evening Terry was attacked and how I was arrested and my phone never found. I expect the lawyer in Drew to have questions, to ask for some type of evidence of my side of the story or to simply dismiss everything I'm saying and kick me out on my ass. Instead, I’m met with silence from Drew and it's Ryan that has the questions.
“So let me get this straight. You had an affair with Mr. Hobbs, the same guy that accused you of attacking him, for two years?” I nod but keep my eyes on the floor. “And he framed you just to stay in the closet and out of trouble for being with a student?”
“Yeah, that's exactly what he did. I don’t know who actually attacked him, but it wasn’t me and he knows it.”
I can feel his eyes on me so I force myself to look up and accept whatever judgment he has come to.
“Okay, so Mr. Hobbs is a fucking lying asshole, but that doesn’t explain why my brother refused all of my visitation requests, even when I turned eighteen. Why not tell me all this years ago? Maybe I could have helped or at the very least we would have had some shred of a relationship, and Mom? You stopped letting her visit and you stopped calling and writing. You broke her fucking heart, Roman.” The more he talks the more passionate he's getting. I can see and hear how much I have hurt him.
“I’m so sorry, Ryan. Back then I believed it would be better for you not to be associated with me, for you to be able to say that we had no relationship so people couldn’t judge you based on what they thought I did. I thought I was doing you both a favor.” I’m as ashamed of myself as he is mad. It’s a pathetic excuse but it's the truth.
“Why? Why the fuck would you think that was better for us?” he shouts, jumping to his feet to start pacing again. “Didn’t you think I was fucked either way? I was the brother of the guy who stalked and tried to kill a high school teacher. You think Mom moved out of the city because she didn’t like the view? She moved because she had enough with the slurs and accusations thrown our way. The final straw was when someone painted 'scum' on our front door for the fifth time. The paint on the door was still wet from trying to cover up the previous occasion.”
My chest tightens and I absentmindedly rub at it. Knowing what they went through because of me, physically hurts. I feel like there is a massive ball wedged in my throat as I try to apologize again but the words won’t come out because they aren't enough.
“I understand all too well the fact that hindsight is twenty-twenty and I can’t sit here and judge you when I’ve made stupid fucking mistakes in the past,” Drew says, looking up at Ryan still pacing and offering him a soft smile. “Sometimes people need a second chance to prove they made a mistake and they can do better.” His eyes never leave Ryan’s as he talks and I pause for a moment wondering if that was even directed at me.
“You do not play fair, Cap,” Ryan mumbles under his breath as he sits back down beside Drew, instinctively taking his hand in his and lacing their fingers together.
“Drew is right, you made a mistake, a really fucking black-hole-sized mistake and that isn’t even taking into consideration the terrible tattoos you have,” he jokes and the mood immediately lifts, making me huff in amusement. I don’t even realize I’m crying until I feel a tear fall onto my clasped hands in front of me. “I’m not saying all will be forgiven overnight but I’m willing to try, I want my brother in my life, Ro. Don’t fucking shut me out again,” he warns as he stands and crosses the room toward me. I immediately rise to meet him as he wraps his arms around my back and holds me tight. I couldn’t stop my tears if I tried. I never in a million years thought this moment would happen.
“Thank you, Ryan, I won’t let you down again,” I promise and I mean it with every fiber of my being.
“You better not, Ro,” he whispers and gives me one last squeeze before stepping back and taking Drew’s hand. “Welcome home, big bro. Oh and we just got engaged tonight so you might need some earplugs,” he announces with a shrug as he pulls Drew upstairs. I’m left looking around the living room and scratching the back of my head. What the fuck do I do now? I jump slightly at the sound of a pillow and blanket landing at the foot of the stairs, followed by a box of unopened earplugs. Do they just keep these in stock for guests?
“Let the dogs out back for pee pees and put them to bed, see you in the morn—” Ryan’s yell gets cut off and the moan that follows their bedroom door slamming shut makes me regret all of my life choices.
“Okay, Thor and Loki, let's go do your business then shove our heads into the washing machine so we don't have to listen to your dads making babies,” I chuckle as both dogs walk to the back door and wait for me to open it. Clearly they are not remotely concerned with the damage the symphony upstairs is doing to my mental health.