20. Brandon
CHAPTER 20
I’m standing in front of the rehabilitation center where Nathan is, and I’m tensed up. My muscles are rigid, and my heart is throbbing hard against my ribcage. I fear it might explode if Nathan decided to shout at me the moment he sees me.
I heard from a friend that he is doing a lot better now. He can’t walk without assistance just yet, but he’s not fully dependent on his wheelchair anymore.
Nathan called me last week, and I suppose that is what he wanted to share with me. I was so fucking stupid. I thought he was calling to give me an earful for not helping out, but our mutual friend told me he’s always been sad, asking why I hadn’t visited him yet and if I was okay.
My stomach churns. He’s worried about me even now, even after everything. Nathan hasn’t always been the brightest person. He’s too kind and soft for his own good, and that is why I’m turning pale at the thought of seeing him.
Taking a deep breath, I force my body to move forward. The lights inside the building blazed that seemed to pierce through my eyelids. Every step I took felt like walking through a tunnel of intense brightness, making me long for the soft natural light of the outdoors.
I go to the reception to confirm what room he’s in, then I take the elevator up to his floor.
When I reach his room and peek through the glass, I see him lying in bed. He’s put on a bit of weight from not moving around.
My heart constricts in my chest. It suddenly feels like the walls are closing in on me and they will squish me. My hands grow clammy and my fingers feel ashy as I reach for the door handle. But I don’t open the door, I just freeze.
“Hello, are you trying to open the door?” a nurse asks. She has a big smile on her face. “I’ll help you,” she assumes I am one of the patients here.
Nathan’s eyes meet mine the second she opens the door. I know I can’t run away or stall now that he’s seen me. I have to walk inside and fix things.
“Hey, man,” Nathan says, his eyes crinkling as if he’s truly excited to see me.
I know he is. Nathan is not the type of guy to pretend. He wouldn’t smile at me or give me that happy face if he wasn’t happy to see me.
I clear my throat. “Hey,” I reply, but my voice is barely above a whisper. I close the door behind me and walk to his bedside. “How are you…doing?”
It’s a stupid question, because I can see that he’s still recovering from the near-fatal injuries he sustained the night we got rescued, but I don’t know how else to start a conversation with him.
“What do you think, man? I’m fucked,” he jokes.
How can he joke at a time like this? Isn’t he mad at me? If not for being so useless that night, at least for ignoring his texts and calls.
“Yeah, you look like it.” I sit on a chair next to his bed.
There’s an awkward moment of silence between us. I wait for the accusations to come, but they never do.
“How have you been, Brandon?” Nathan asks coolly. “You weren’t answering any calls. I was really worried about you.”
I swallow hard, feeling a lump form in my throat at his words. He was worried about me while lying in a hospital bed, recovering from injuries he sustained because I failed to act when it mattered most. Guilt washes over me like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me in its depths.
“I've been okay,” I finally manage to croak out, unable to meet his gaze. “Just dealing with some stuff.”
Nathan studies me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he reaches out a hand and places it on mine gently.
“You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, bro,” he says softly. “What happened out there wasn't your fault. We all did what we could.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. How can he be so forgiving, so understanding?
Tears prick the corners of my eyes as I finally muster the courage to meet Nathan's gaze. His eyes are filled with warmth and kindness that I don't deserve, and I feel the weight of his forgiveness like a physical presence in the room.
“I froze, Nathan,” I whisper, the words barely audible. “I froze when you needed me. I should have, I should have been there for you. I should have saved you.”
Nathan reaches for my shoulder and gives me a reassuring squeeze.
“Brandon,” he says softly, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that catches me off guard. “You were there for me when it mattered most before. We were all scared. I couldn’t save myself. It wasn’t your fault, and I don’t hold it against you.”
Tears stream down my face unchecked now, emotions raw and unbridled. I should have been stronger, braver. I should have been the one to protect him, to save him.
But as I look into Nathan's eyes, I realize the truth of his words: maybe he didn’t hate me or blame me for not being his savior. Maybe all he needed was for me to be his friend after everything, to stand by his side while he recovered. And I avoided him because of the guilt I felt.
Still, he’s forgiven me. He’s told me everything I needed to hear. And maybe, just maybe, I can learn to forgive myself too.
“I'm sorry, Nathan,” the words tumble out of my mouth, rushing now to be heard. “Sorry that I wasn’t there when you woke up.”
He lies back and groans. “An apology won’t cut it, man. You’ll have to make it up to me somehow.”
Wiping away my tears, I smile. “What do you want? A drink when you’re better?”
“A boys night out with the other guys. Bill’s on you,” he says playfully. “After I almost died, I realized I’d pretty much wasted my life. I want to find a pretty girl, get married, and have a kid or two. You should too.”
“I already have a daughter.”
“Yeah, you do. But your daughter needs a mom, and you need someone by your side.”
Right, I haven’t told him about Anya and Kira. He’ll be surprised when I do. I wonder what he’ll think.
I scratch the back of my head. “Well, speaking of a woman, I might already have one.”
His mouth falls open and his eyes widen. “This better not be a joke, man.”
“It’s not.” I shove my hands in my pockets, readying myself to break the news to him. I’ve found out I have a child and fallen in love over the couple of months that Nathan was bedridden and fighting for his life. I want to share my happiness with him. “Remember the girl from the club the night before our deployment?”
“The drunk, heartbroken one? Yeah, I remember her. She was pretty as hell.”
“We met again. Turned out she got pregnant the night we hooked up. We have a daughter together, and she’s going to be my wife someday.”
Nathan's eyes widen even further, his mouth opens and closes like a fish’s out of water, searching for the right thing to say. I can see the shock and disbelief written all over his face, mixed with a hint of amusement.
“Wait, let me get this straight,” he finally manages to sputter. “You hooked up with her before the deployment, she got pregnant and had the baby while you were away? You guys met again, and now you’re telling me you two are together? And you have a daughter?”
I nod sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. It does sound like something out of a bad soap opera when laid out like that. It feels unreal, yet it’s healed me in more ways than I can count.
The weight that had been pressing on my shoulders lifts as I see genuine happiness in Nathan's expression. I had been so consumed by guilt and self-blame that I hadn't allowed myself to fully embrace the blessings that had come into my life amidst the chaos.
But now I’ve learned to be grateful. To allow myself some happiness. “Isn’t it crazy?”
“It’s amazing news, dude. Brandon, man, you never cease to amaze me,” Nathan chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, I’m happy for you but, wow, everything worked out amazingly. You must’ve been a hero in your past life or something.”
A smile plays on my lips. I keep telling myself that too. I must’ve done something good to have Anya, Alessa and Kira in my life.
Nathan and I spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on our private lives. It’s almost nine p.m. when I return to Meadowvale.
My headlights flash on Spencer just as I enter our driveway and park next to our dad’s truck. Spencer’s sitting on one of the tire swings we used to play on when we were younger, sipping from a bottle of beer.
I get out of the car and stride over. “Hey, man,” I say as I sit on the swing next to him. There’s another bottle of beer in front of him. “Can I have that?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
I ignore the bite in his tone and reach for the bottle. I bite off the cap and take a long swig. I grunt and wince as the coldness trickles down my throat.
Spencer leans back, staring at me intently before he speaks. “I heard about Nathan. How is he now?”
“Good,” I reply, taking another swig of beer. “Nathan is recovering well. He still can’t walk all on his own, but he’s doing physical therapy and is going to be okay.”
“That’s good to hear,” Spencer murmurs, his gaze distant. “He’s a tough guy. He’ll be as good as new in no time.”
I nod. There's an unspoken tension between Spencer and me, and I know Spencer has been struggling with his own demons since finding out about me and Anya. It’s not logical, but I understand why he feels that way. The distance between us feels greater than ever.
“Spencer,” I start tentatively, “we need to talk.”
He scoffs bitterly, taking another long gulp of his drink before meeting my eyes. “Let me guess, you want to talk about Anya and why you decided to knock up my ex-girlfriend and start a relationship with her?”
“You’re making me out to be an asshole if you put it that way, man. I didn’t know she was your ex.”
“Right.” He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, takes one and offers the rest to me. “You want one?”
I shake my head. “You know I don’t smoke.”
“Yeah, always been the responsible son. Feels good, don’t it?” Putting the cigarette between his lips, he lights it and takes a drag.
“You’re going too far with this thing, man.” I swipe a hand through my hair. I’m usually a patient person, but I have this nagging feeling I’ll lose my cool if he keeps acting like I had an affair with his girlfriend. “Anya was not your girlfriend when I met her. We were strangers who got attracted to each other. How was I supposed to know she was your ex?”
He scoffs. “All of those are fucking excuses. You could have told me the second you met her again and recognized her. You could have told me when you found out the child was yours. Do you know how stupid I felt, convinced her daughter was mine? But all along, she was my brother’s.”
“You’re right, I should have told you. I was afraid you’d act like this, that is why I didn’t say anything sooner. I’m sorry.”
Spencer takes another drag of his cigarette, the embers burning brightly in the darkness. His jaw clenches as he exhales a cloud of smoke, his gaze fixed on the ground.
For a moment, silence hangs heavy between us. My stomach churns relentlessly. Spencer and I used to have the average sibling fights, but it’s never been this serious and nerve-wracking before.
When he finally speaks, his voice is rough with emotion. “Do you have any idea how betrayed I feel, Brandon? Not because you hooked up with Anya. I don’t blame you for that. But it hurts that you thought of me as such an idiot that you couldn’t be honest with me.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
“Those nightmares, do you still have them?” His words are laced with bitterness and hurt.
I recoil. “What?”
“How long did you think you could fool everyone in this house, Brandon? You think I didn’t notice how out of it you were? You think I never heard you turning and groaning in your bed at night?”
“You knew?” I stammer.
“Of course I knew. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to give you time.” He pauses and swallows. “But you didn’t even trust me enough to confide in me about that. I feel like I’ve been a useless brother to you. I’ve never been able to do anything when you needed me. I feel like a fucking idiot.”
I take a deep breath, the weight of Spencer's words hitting me like a ton of bricks. Guilt washes over me as I realize how much I've kept from him, how much I've shut him out while dealing with my own struggles
“I know I should have told you,” I whisper, my voice barely above a hoarse murmur. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I was so lost in my own demons, I didn't realize how much I was hurting you in the process.”
Spencer's gaze softens slightly, a flicker of understanding passing through his eyes. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the ground. “I know, Brandon. And I get it, I really do. But we're brothers, man. We should be there for each other, no matter what.”
My chest constricts with emotion. “You’re right,” is all I can manage to mumble.
“How bad is it?” he asks. “Your nightmares? Have they gotten any better?”
“It’s been a lot better since I met Anya and Kira.” I draw in a breath. “I’m seeing a therapist too.”
“Then it’s good. Knowing you’re better is good.” He straightens up on the swing. “Are you happy?”
I can’t help the smile that stretches my face or the sheer happiness rippling through me. The thought of spending my life with Anya and the girls makes me feel something deeper than happiness. It brings me joy.
“It feels right,” I admit, the weight lifting off my shoulders as I speak the truth I haven’t been able to share with him. “Anya and the girls, they make me happy. They make everything feel complete.”
Spencer nods slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’m glad to hear that, Brandon. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
We sit in silence for a moment, the tension that once suffocated us now dissipating into the cool evening air. The distant sound of crickets fills the quiet between us.
“I’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me,” Spencer says suddenly, his voice heavy with regret. “I shouldn’t have stayed away. I should have intruded and helped you as much as you needed.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him, reaching out to clap a hand on his shoulder. “We’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
He inclines his head, then stares up at the bed of twinkling stars overhead. “You’re right. It’s useless worrying about the past. All we have is now, and that is all that matters.”
I follow his gaze up to the sky. It’s a beautiful night. There’s a full moon shining brightly, and a soft evening breeze rustles the leaves nonstop.
For the first time in so long, I’m filled with hope that every day that passes will be better than the last.