Chapter 29
Bowen
The walls feel like they’re closing in around me.
Kits gone. His footsteps barely made a sound on the stairs, but his absence is deafening. The way he looked at me before he left, like I was a stranger, gut-punched me so hard I’m still reeling. I can’t seem to fill my lungs all the way.
I turn to Brett. “What the fuck was that?”
Brett stands in the middle of the room like a storm on the edge of breaking. His arms are crossed, but not to protect himself. No, he’s holding himself back. He’s vibrating with so much emotion it makes my chest ache.
“That,” he says, voice low and shaky, “was me trying to save the two people I love the most from ruining their friendship completely.”
I laugh, but it sounds bitter even to my own ears. “You ambushed me. You ambushed him!”
“Because you won’t fucking listen any other way!”
“Maybe that’s because you keep talking like you know what’s going on inside my head.”
“You’re right. Maybe I don’t. But I see the way he looks at you whenever he can, like you hung the fucking moon. And maybe I don’t know your thoughts, but I see the pain on your face every time I bring him up, and I watch how you avoid looking at him at all costs. What are you so scared of, Bowen?”
“Don’t.”
“No. You don’t get to shut down on me again. I’m not Delaney. I won’t let you half love me and walk away when shit gets hard.”
I flinch. The words hit too close. I want to yell back, to accuse him of twisting things, of meddling where he doesn’t belong…but I can’t.
Everything he’s saying is true.
“I never meant to hurt him,” I say instead. “He was pushing me away, Brett. What the fuck else was I supposed to do, huh? I didn’t know how to be near him anymore.”
Brett stares at me like I’ve grown another head. “So, you thought being nowhere near him would be better?”
“I told him last year if he wanted me, he knew where to find me.” I motion to the door that Kit ran out of only a few moments ago. “He didn’t seem too interested then, still doesn't seem very interested now, Brett.”
“But did you tell him? Did you tell him you fucking want him, too? No. Of course not.”
Silence stretches.
Brett’s eyes are glistening, but he blinks the shine away.
“I just want my friends back. My brother back. It feels like you’re avoiding me as much as you’re avoiding Kit anymore.
You two have been everything to me, my whole life.
” Brett rubs his cheek on his shoulder. “Fix it.” The end is a command.
Not a request. Not a joke. And not just about Kit; it’s about us, too.
Brett steps forward, suddenly fierce in a way that makes my heart lurch. I want to say I’m sorry, but the words won’t come. My throat is tight and dry and full of glass.
“I love you, Bowen,” he says, voice crackling like it’s breaking apart inside him. “So much. But this…whatever the hell you’re doing… It’s not you. And it sure as shit isn’t the brother I grew up with.”
He lets go, backing towards the stairs.
“Fix this,” he says again. “Please.”