38. Jake
JAKE
The satisfying thud of my fist colliding with the punching bag echoes in the basement. The chain clangs as the bag swings back in place, only to meet my strike once more.
And again.
And again.
I get in the zone, my entire mind focused on the swinging punching bag and the slight sting of my muscles. No idea how long I've been at this for. No idea how long I plan to continue.
The sound of footsteps breaks my concentration somewhat as Sam and Adam descend into the basement.
They both stand there silently for some time, leaning against opposite sides of the entrance while I fight, levelling a kick with my left leg. My injured leg, which I conveniently forgot was injured.
I wince at the impact but stubbornly refuse to let it show, bringing it back down to keep laying into the bag.
“You know thirty years from now when you have arthritis, and you can't walk on that ankle anymore, I'm going to laugh at you,” Adam says. "Because you refuse to listen to advice and just lay off it.”
“I’m fine," I grumble.
“No, you’re not. You haven’t been fine for some time, and we’re tired of watching you pretend.”
“Me?” I stop in confusion and stare at Sam. “Aren’t you the one who had the major stick up his butt and didn’t want to talk to me about it?”
He smiles smugly. “Yes. And now I’m over that. So it’s your turn.”
I narrow my eyes and go back to my punching bag. I know I should talk to them. It’s much better than talking to a shrink. But it’s still uncomfortable and embarrassing to talk about shit like this. Like I'm exposing a part of myself that was never meant to be seen by anyone.
I feel like such a loser, something, for thinking the things I do and feeling the way I do. And deep inside, I'm afraid they'll judge me for it. Hell, I'll judge me for it.
"Come on," Adam says. "Just talk to us. This won't work if we aren't honest with each other."
It might not work anyway. Because of me.
“I feel like maybe this is my fault,” I say.
“Told you,” Sam says, looking even more smug as Adam rolls his eyes at him.
“It's not your fault," Adam says.
“Yes, it is. I should have been more careful. I knew that she wasn’t entirely comfortable with our relationship being public, and I shouldn’t have been kissing her out on the streets.
But I did because I...I don't even know. It’s almost like I wanted someone to catch us, wanted to be able to claim her in some way. ”
They’re both quiet, and shame crawls up my neck. Knowing that I might have sabotaged our relationship, even subconsciously...God, I just screw everything up. No wonder my mother left me. They'd probably be better off leaving me too.
“Did she say she minded?” Sam says.
“No. She was into it, but obviously none of us knew that her brother was going to roll up on us like that. But when he did…I didn’t even feel much panic.
I mostly felt relieved and maybe a little…
I don’t even know. Definitely possessive and just proud of the fact that she was mine.
That she didn't deny our relationship in front of him. And with that, I ruined her relationship with him. I guess I’m like my father after all. ”
“Bullshit,” Sam says. “If you’re like your father, then so am I because I would have felt the very same things you did.”
“Me too,” Adam says.
“Yes, but you guys wouldn't have fucked up as badly as I did. You would have found a way to get James on board. Especially you, Adam. He likes you. Hell, he might not have even minded if it was just you and Sam."
They don't respond to that because saying otherwise would be a lie. They know I'm telling the truth. James has a very unique hatred for me, and I'm not sure he's ever going to get over it. "What if he’s never able to accept this now? What if I’ve ruined their relationship forever?”
“I think you think too highly of yourself," Adam says, sounding amused. "James is mad, furious even, but he's not going to abandon his sister over you."
"Yes, but....didn't you hear what she said?"
"I did. You also saw how badly she was doing all night. They'll make up. They'll figure it out, or I'll make them figure it out because we don't have a choice."
"None of us are letting her go," Sam says and adds with a smile, "And I guess she's not letting us go either."
I offer them a weak smile and go back to my workout.
Hitting the punching bag isn't doing much to clear my head, but it does give me something to do, even as Adam's words echo in the back of my mind. They make it seem so simple. It'll work out, they say, as though things always work out.
As though people don't get abandoned every day.
“You're still jealous of her being with us?" Sam asks.
I think about it. The answer is, not really.
It probably wasn't even jealousy per se that I felt, because when it’s all of us together, I’m fine.
I also don't mind when she's off with one of the others alone, because I know at the end of the day she still comes to us.
I have a share of her affection, and she wants me to.
But in times of trouble, like now, there’s a feeling I can’t shake, a sense that she might decide that all of this is just too much for her and that being with Adam or Sam might be enough.
Maybe they'll have me around for a fun time now and then, but ultimately, I'm not the one she wants by her side full time.
When I told her I love her, there was a flash of panic in her eyes. I don't know if it's because she was concerned that my love confession was a plea for her to dump the other two. It wasn’t, at least not really. It was a plea for her not to dump me.
Was the panic because she didn't love me back?
Despite how devastated she looked at my getting hurt, maybe that was just her humanity on display. Maybe she doesn't care about me at all.
My rational mind tells me that I'm going off the deep end, but it's hard to beat back years of conditioning.
It's pathetic of me to be so insecure, and eventually it's going to eat into this relationship and ruin everything.
I finally stop and lean my head against the punching bag. "I’m going to have to suck it up and see a therapist, aren't I?”
“Probably,” Adam says.
"Definitely,” Sam concurs.
"I don’t have a good experience with those," I say.
My experience with a therapist was my mother taking me to one when I went to see her.
The one time I acted out and yelled at her, thanks to my feelings of abandonment, she was so sure I would turn into my father that she took me to someone who talked at me for an hour and told me how inappropriate my response was and how I should be more careful with my anger.
Of course, now I know that she was probably out of line, but it didn’t incline me towards the profession.
"The one I saw after I got out of the military was pretty good," Adam says. "I'll introduce you."
I nod. "Thank you."
"Sure. What are friends for except sorting out your crazy?"
I grin, but I know that over the years these men have stopped being just friends to me. From Adam, letting me move in with him because he knows how much I hate being alone. And Sam checks on me whenever he gets out of his own head. They've become like family.
Maybe we really will be family sometime very soon.
I can't stop thinking about it now. Of her accepting all of us, and loving all of us, and just being with us, like how things are now.
Could that ever happen? Could she ever accept that?
The sound of the front door opening and closing causes the atmosphere to ease and just brighten.
Adam smiles first. "She's back."
Sam doesn't bother to say anything. He simply turns and heads upstairs, probably eager to see her. I feel the same way.
I take my boxing gloves off as the men head upstairs and sniff myself a couple of times. Not too bad. Still, I go to the basement bathroom and step in the shower for a few minutes to get the grime off me.
By the time I head back upstairs, they already have her on the couch with Sam rubbing her feet, and Adam making lunch.
She has them in the palms of her hands.
When she sees me, her face glows.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey," I respond, walking over to kiss her. "How was work? And your brother?"
"Work was fine. I talked to James," she said, beaming. "We made up."
"That's great," I say, a huge weight lifted off my chest. It would have been horrible if her fight with her brother had destroyed their relationship. "That's amazing."
"Yeah. Speaking of amazing...I'm going to see my doctor tomorrow," she says. "I want all of you to come with me."
That has everyone in the room freezing.
"Sorry," she says, taking a deep breath. "I didn't mean to blurt it out just like that, but....yeah. I've decided."
"Are you sure?" Adam asks. She nods.
"Do you know what this would mean?" I ask her, and she bites her lips and nods again.
"Yes," she says. "It would mean that people, at least at the clinic, would know we're together, all of us.
And I think I'm okay with that, or at least, I want to try to be okay with that.
I have to be okay with that because I can't choose.
" She looks between us. "All of you have come to mean so much to me in the short time we've known each other.
So we'll have to try being together. If you want that is...
" She shoots me a doubtful look, and I'm flabbergasted.
If we want to?
Of fucking course we want to.
As if there was any possibility of us saying no to that.
As if we don't all crave her with every breath we take and with every fiber of our being.
As if my soul isn't jumping for joy right now, the voices in my head are finally shutting up.
She wants us.
Fuck what society says. This is right. This is how it was meant to be.
As if this isn't right.
As the others talk, the words are droning in the background.
I kiss her again, on the lips this time.
There's still so much we need to talk about, so much that we haven't decided on yet. But all that can come later. This isn't the end. It's a beginning.
James doesn't look surprised to find me in his office.
It's evening time, and Chelsea is home with Adam and Sam. I told them I wanted to run a few errands and came here.
Luckily, he's working late.
He looks up from his book, and he doesn't make an expression on his face. It's flat, and he shakes his head and says, "Jake.”
"James," I say, and I slide into the seat. "You got a minute?"
"No, actually, but I can't imagine you're going to take no for an answer."
"No. I've taken it for an answer for far too long. But we need to talk. Don't we?"
He sighs. "I don't really want to rehash the past..."
"Then let's not. Let's talk about the future. Look, everything that happened, I'm sorry. I really am. I've beaten myself up about it over the years, about losing your friendship."
"Really?" he scoffs. "Didn't seem like you cared that much?"
"You really think that. I've never apologized to anyone in my life."
"Well, you fucked up."
"I know. I admitted over and over again. But if we're being honest, that situation wasn't entirely my fault, and the only reason you've held such a grudge against me is that your ego was bruised."
He finally looks up and raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me."
"Yeah. You were the big man on campus, the senior everyone wanted. Your girlfriend cheated on you with a freshman. It had to hurt.”
"Is this what you came for? To rub it in?"
"No. To tell you this. I'm in love with your sister. I know you may not believe me, but I am, and I would never do anything to hurt her. The past is the past. If there's anything that I can do right now to make it easier to let it go, you should tell me."
"If I told you to stay away from her?"
I shake my head. "Anything except that."
He watches me for a good while, scanning me as though seeing me for the first time. Then he sighs. "I guess I have no choice. I might be an uncle to your demon spawn."
A flutter of pleasure goes through my body when I think about our child, but I still shrug. "The baby might be Adam's or Sam's."
He shakes his head. "No, I have a feeling it's yours. Even if it's not, she seems to love you, so there's nothing else I can do about it."
"Wait, did she tell you she loves me?" I ask, instantly on alert. "Or did you just figure it out on your own?"
He snarls and shakes his head. "You better not hurt her, you bastard. Or I'll make you very sorry."