chapter twenty-four Basically a Sister #3
My heart is absolutely wrenched in two. I want her. Of course I want her.
But I also want to live my life without constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering what fresh hell the curse is going
to bring. I can’t shake the feeling that if I’d got it right, that everything between Lex and I was the way it was supposed
to be, then the curse would be broken. To continue to drag Lex into this is unfair to her, especially after everything she’s
been through. She deserves so much better.
“I can’t live with this curse looming over me—over us. It’s mine for me to fix, Lex. You did your best to help me, but it
didn’t work. I’ve had to live with it my entire adult life, and it’s been hell. If the curse isn’t broken, then being with
me means you’re stuck with it, too. I won’t do that to you.”
“I don’t care about the curse.” Lex shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter to me if you’re clumsy and awkward, because you pick
yourself up and brush yourself off a hundred times with a smile on your face, a silly joke, and a quirky sense of humour.
I don’t need a perfect life, I don’t need a perfect partner, I just need someone to be there for me when they say they will,
to do what they say they’re going to do, to love me for who I am. What do you need? Me? My brother? Something else? Do you even know?”
My throat aches, and my chest tightens. “I just need some time to . . . to figure out what’s going on.”
Silence stretches between us, cold creeping under my skin like a draft through a poorly sealed door.
“I’m such a fool,” Lex says quietly, almost to herself.
“Here I am, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Watching you go on dates with all these other people. Setting you up with my own brother. Thinking that at least if you’re happy, I can be, too.
That having you in my life as a friend is better than nothing at all.
I tried to see other people, tried to pretend I didn’t want you as more than a friend.
Then everything changed, and you said you loved me, and I let down my guard.
I opened myself up to you. For the first time in my life I thought I could be who I truly was, and be loved for that—because that’s the way I feel about you.
I thought that would be enough for you, too.
But it’s not. Maybe nothing ever will be. ”
“Lex, I—” My voice breaks.
The door at the top of the stairs creaks open. “Mom?”
Lex blinks away the tears that had begun forming in the corners of her eyes and sniffs, clearing her throat. “Hey, Gabe. Keep
your shoes on. We have to go.”
“Wait, Lex—”
She raises a hand, silencing me. “Not in front of my son.”
Gabe plods down the stairs, Winston at his feet. He looks from me to his mom and back. I force a smile, trying to seem normal
for five minutes, for Gabe’s sake. But Gabe is just as perceptive as his mom, and he senses the discomfort in the room immediately.
“Is everything okay?”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Lex says, her warbly voice betraying her. “Aubrey isn’t feeling well. We’re going home.”
Gabe sidesteps his mom, Winston alongside him, and looks up at me with big round eyes. “You’re still coming to my play, right?”
I gape at him, then to his mom, and back. “Uh . . .”
“Because I worked really hard on my makeup and I want you to see it.”
My throat works and tears well in my eyes. I don’t take it lightly how special it is for a kid like Gabe to express himself
like this. I don’t want to lie to him, but I don’t want to let him down, either. “I’m not sure,” is all I can say.
His expression falls to disappointment. “That means no.”
“I—I’ll try.”
But nothing gets past Gabe. “That also means no.”
Squatting to eye level, I take Gabe’s hands in mine and look deep into his eyes. “Seeing you up there on that stage is important
to me, okay? I will do everything I can to be there. I promise.”
He regards me for another long moment, then gives a single, short nod.
“Come on, Gabriel,” Lex says, reaching for him.
With Winston trailing behind them, Lex and Gabe make their way back up the stairs. As soon as Gabe is out of sight Lex turns
toward me, her expression stony. “You asked for time, I’ll give it. But I’m not going to wait around forever, and I’m not
going to risk hurting my family because you can’t decide what you want. We’ll talk Friday, after Gabe’s play.”
The door closes, locking me away in my solitude. The tears I’d barely held in come full force now, incoherent sobs racking
my body. I fall onto the couch, curling into the fetal position, my chest aching like my heart’s been ripped out, trampled,
and then shoved back into the bruised, hollow cavity.
Winston’s nails tip-tap on the floor over to me. He climbs onto the couch and licks the salt from my tears. I hold him tightly, pressing my face
into his soft fur. “Just you and me again, buddy,” I sniffle against him.
All that work. All that pain. All that suffering. All that happiness and pleasure and friendship and longing . . .
And I’m back here—alone with my dog and wishing I could have the kind of life I so temporarily grasped.