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Jase
“She’s cheating on you, Jason,” Nora claims, pleading with me. “I saw them together. You should leave her.” I search her face for lies, for contempt, for anything other than care, but she seems serious, like she knows something I don’t.
Lo wouldn’t cheat on me.
She wouldn’t.
Like you? The voice in my head reminds me.
“Loren wouldn’t cheat,” I say, my voice harsh and bitter. “I trust her.”
“You shouldn’t. You’ve seen her with him. They’re too close for friends. Plus, I saw them together, Jase. They were kissing.”
“Enough!” I bark, my hands shaking with the resentment I feel toward my wife and brother. They’ve always been close, and since Anise died, he’s always around. She always asks for him or for Ellie but never me. “They were probably just close, Nora. They won’t ever betray me like that.”
“You’re so fucking naïve, Jase. You can’t even see what’s right in front of you. When she goes to him, you come to me. Isn’t that fucked? The fact that you talk to me instead of her and she talks to him instead of you?”
“She’s just lost. She’ll come back to me. She promised.”
And what then? the voice nags. What is left to come back to? You broke her.
Clenching my fists and grinding my molars until pain slices through me, I beg the voice to leave, to stop feeding me doubt. I’m the cheater. I’m the one who stepped out. Not her. I’m the one who called it quits while she’s raising our kids, oblivious to my infidelity.
“She also promised she wouldn’t shut down again, yet, here she is, over a year later, doing exactly that. She’s not good for you or the kids. You’ve got to let her go,” Nora adds, giving me a pointed look.
I can’t let her go. I can’t give into temptation even if I already have. I promised to stay. She signed the papers. She gave into my demands, yet I can’t leave. She’s the only one who’s ever been fully mine. The only one I’ve ever truly wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even with Nora in my life, it’ll always be Peaches. Always Peaches.
“What do you know, Nora?! You wouldn’t understand. You lost Francis by fucking up and fighting with him. How would you know what marriage is like? What it’s like to struggle and watch the woman you love disappear into a shell? To see the woman you’ve built a life with just unable to exist? You wouldn’t because Francis is gone!”
“Wow, that’s low even for you,” she gripes. “He died because he was drunk. If anything, it was your fault. You were the one who let him drive home after that.”
“He wanted to stay!” I return angrily.
He hadn’t been drunk when I left, not that he couldn’t have had a few after I was gone, but he had been sober. How was I supposed to know?
“Well, now he’s dead, and you’re all I have left. Stop doing this to yourself, especially for her,” she pleads, her eyes filled with hurt.
“She’s my goddamn wife. She’s everything to me!” I try to get her to see, to see my love for Lo, to see how much she means to me. To see that Lo can’t be replaced, even if I’ve been unfaithful.
“She’s draining you, and you’re letting her.” She touches my cheek with a feather-soft touch, rubbing her fingers across it in a soothing pattern, but it’s not soothing. It’s not even welcome.
“I’m going to go. I can’t argue something you won’t understand,” I bite, bitterness filling me with resentment. Not for Nora, not for Lo, but for me—for my mistakes and stupidity.
“Oh, I understand clearly, Jason. You’re losing a battle you were never meant to win.”
“And you’re ruining our friendship and making me hate my marriage.” She backs up at that, dropping her hands, her face falling in the next breath.
“I’m sorry. I-I wasn’t trying to. I just hate seeing you in so much pain,” she grovels, tears running down her face. She falls to the floor in a fit of sobs, holding onto my legs. “I’m j-just hurting, Jase.”
“I’m sorry,” I cave, going to the floor with her, hugging her.
She’s in pain, and I can help. She’s in pain, and at least she wants my help.
“I’ve got to go home. Just try and not to stress about everything. I’ll be okay. I’m always okay.”
She whimpers, nodding into my chest, and I leave. My wife needs me too, even if she doesn’t want me.
When I get home, it’s the same as usual—Lo on the couch, kids asleep at her sides, Toby there, too.
She’s mindless.
Her eyes bore into the TV, but they don’t really see anything. They’re polished over, like she’s here but also hidden in a place I’ve never been able to reach her. The kids can’t either, but he does. He always does.
The way Toby holds her, the way I should be holding her, has me breaking. His arm is draped around her middle, her head leaning on his shoulder, all while she sits partially on his lap, cuddling him like she used to cuddle me.
Seeing that she needs him but doesn’t need me is the worst feeling a husband can experience.
Was Nora right? Were they cheating the entire time and I’m the dumbass who didn’t notice until now? Was I too absorbed in my affair that I couldn’t see theirs all along?
Seeing him between my wife’s legs is singlehandedly the worst imagery of my existence. Now, I know. Now, I can understand what she’s been imagining since she found out about my affair.
The anger.
The betrayal.
The loathing.
The rancor.
I’ve never felt so turbulent, so violent. Holding back the need to punch my brother’s face took everything I had. Even now, as she walks away, I want to strangle him. I want him to hurt like I’m hurting, to ache like I’m aching, and to suffer like seeing him and her nearly fucking made me suffer.
But I can’t.
I can be angry, hurt, upset, and want to fuck her until she comes back into my arms, but I have no room to talk. I fucked her best friend for a year behind her back. I betrayed her first, cheated first, broke her first. It was me. All me. It’s my fault.
For the longest time, I blamed her for my dalliances, for my leaving her in ways, but in reality, it was me. I used her as a crutch, as an excuse to make myself feel better.
To absolve myself, she was the excuse.
To fix our marriage, she has to be the reason.
“I’m trying so fucking hard not to kill you right now,” I growl, toe to toe with Toby.
His face is strained. There’s animosity in his stiff posture, contempt in his curled lip, and betrayal in his hazel eyes. He hates me. I can see it. Behind the pain and dripping venom, there’s absolute hatred there.
“If you were what she needed, she wouldn’t be here. You fucked up, Jase. You’re just mad I’m picking up the pieces of your wife.” He pushes his chest into mine, his breathing heavy with aggression. “You slept with Ellie. You lost the best woman in the world because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.” He shoves my chest, his face screwed in a disgusted grimace.
“You’re one to talk! You’ve been after my wife since high school! Look at who’s pathetic! You sit around, waiting for me to fail my marriage so you can swoop in. What kind of man, let alone brother, tries to do that?”
“If you were a better man—” he attempts to argue before I interrupt.
“No. If you were a decent person, you wouldn’t have allowed it to get this far.”
“You’re the one who messed up, Jase. I’ve just been here all along,” he replies indignantly, a confident smirk tilting his lips.
“Yeah, waiting like a fucking predator ready to strike. Not like a caring brother-in-law,” I scoff, running a palm down my face.
“You’re putting this all on me!” he accuses, sounding like a petulant child.
“No, I know I’ve messed up. I know I broke my vows and allowed another woman into my bed. There’s not an excuse in the book for what I’ve done and how much I’ve messed my wife up beyond repair, but you could’ve been a better person, Toby, and you weren’t.”
“You’re right,” he admits, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him look ashamed.
“Now that I’ve got that off my chest, are you going to tell me why Nate is here? You’re the only person he kept in contact with. He said Ellie told him about the baby and shit, but I think he lied to cover his ass. It was you, wasn’t it? What am I missing?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shuts me down, staring anywhere but at me.
“You do, Tobias. I’m your brother. I’ve known you since you were born. I also know when you’re bullshitting me.”
He rolls his eyes at me, like it’s not my place to push myself in his business. Nate went off the deep end a few years back, and Toby was the only one to stay by his side. He never abandoned him like we did.
“He’s here because of Francis,” he jests, like there’s a joke I’m missing.
“What about Francis?”
*****
Toby
Past
THE LAST THREE YEARS have been bliss. Lo and I graduated. I have a scholarship to Bradbury University in Brighton, she to the Brighton College of Culinary Arts. We’re only twenty minutes apart. She’s going for her dream in the food business, and surprisingly, so am I.
Secretly, I did it for her.
Not so secretly, I did it for me.
I’m going for a business degree, though my intentions aren’t exactly favorable. I’m doing it to open a restaurant, and I’m hoping, when she’s done with her degree, she’ll join me. It’s a long plan, and it probably won’t work, but the devil on my shoulder refuses to let it go.
I don’t have ill intentions for my brother, I just want to have her, too. Even if it’s only a piece of her, even if it’s only as her friend. I’ll be here, hoping she stays happy but, at the same time, praying they don’t work out.
I’ve always wanted her to live her dream and have a great life. I love her. She knows this. I’ve had this idea of a life with Lo, but she always chose him. It took her a long time to forgive me for that night. I kissed her, and it’s something I regret and don’t regret in equal parts. For one, it’s what I’ve wanted to do since meeting her, but it’s also not how I wanted it to go. She was supposed to want it, and I ended up taking advantage of her. She deserved better than that.
Though my relationship with Jase hasn’t been the best, mine with Lo hasn’t suffered a bit. We hang out daily, and with Jase five hours away at Brookewood, she needs me. I’m here more often than not. It’s a line that gets blurry on some days, especially when we cuddle, but I wouldn’t change anything. We shouldn’t be this close, but we are.
Jase visits often, every other weekend to be exact. They seem in love, and they’ve brought themselves a routine, one that gives me Lo most of her time. Other than the every-other-weekend bit, and with them in a weird standstill of insecurity, it’s perfect.
But you know fear. It conquers happiness, and I can see the suffering in her eyes. She cries when she’s watching Dirty Dancing with me instead of him. When Ellie calls and tells her they’re hanging out, Jason doesn’t call her. Those are the nights she weeps with me holding her.
He’s not fair to her, and I pick up the pieces every time.
Jase attends BU with Francis and Ellie. Ellie says she and Francis are still together, but I know her. I know she’s crazy. Not only stalker crazy but obsessed with Jase kind of crazy. Having them that close isn’t a good thing. She would jump at any chance to get with him, and the fact that Lo doesn’t see that is insane. Ellie’s been this way since before high school. She’s what I’d call a groupie. She pushed herself onto him on several occasions, and I feel like he’s been in such a drunken haze most of the time, he doesn’t realize it.
Jase doesn’t call Lo most days lately. I notice.
How could he? He has them. He doesn’t need me or Lo, even if we aren’t talking. He and Frankie and Ellie hang out a lot.
There are days they go without talking, even longer for him and I.
I know he has a scholarship for football, that he has to focus, but it’s killing Lo. I don’t even think he realizes it. Sometimes, I wish she didn’t put on such a brave face. I notice that, too.
I know I shouldn’t comfort her, but I can’t help it.
We sit on the couch, just passing time with chats about what cake batter is the best, disagreeing like usual. She’s all spice and carrot, and I’m more of a red velvet and chocolate kind of guy.
“Go, Tobe. Stop moping around with me,” Lo says, her voice broken and sad.
“I’m not going to leave when you’re clearly upset,” I reassure, being the guy I shouldn’t. Being with her when I shouldn’t. Loving her when I shouldn’t.
I’m fucking up our friendship.
And she’s letting me.
“You should. You’ve got a hot date,” she teases while wiggling her eyebrows, but it doesn’t match the sadness in her expression. “And I’ll be fine. There are reruns of Friends on.”
I lied to her the other day when I mentioned a date. I talked to Jase for the first time in a while about two weeks ago, and he told me he wanted me to back off, that she talks about me too much. So, I told Lo that I started dating. She wasn’t happy. Not only did she appear betrayed, but I saw the jealousy in her eyes. And for once, I knew it wasn’t my mind doing that to me.
It was real.
We’re real.
It’s not the right time, though.
“What better reason to stay,” I joke, shaking my head and plopping myself on her couch. I pull out my cell, pretending to text my date. Then I end up calling Benny’s Pizza Palace.
“I’m not upset, Tobe,” she faux reassures, shooing me away. But in her eyes, there’s an incredible dejection, an emptiness I feel with just her presence near me.
“What did Jase say earlier? After that phone call, it seemed like it ruined your mood. Talk to me, Sparkle,” I change the subject, hoping she opens up.
“He never answered,” she whispers, and the tears that were just at bay spill over her perfectly long eyelashes. Then I remembered it’s Friday. Fridays are their date nights. “He missed our date.”
After that, she curls into me, and her soft whimpers make me ache for her. Why does she do this to me? Why the fuck do I care so much?
I try to back away, but she pulls me in.
I try to be her friend, but she asks for more with her actions.
I try to be a good brother, but he makes her cry.
I’m stuck in a loop, and there’s no escape.
Holding her to me, I try easing her pain with soft touches that border too affectionate, kissing her forehead like she’s mine to kiss, rubbing circles into her back like she’s mine to comfort, hugging her to me, holding her together like she’s mine to hold onto. Need to stop. Need to leave. Need to stop loving.
She cries into me, and my heart breaks more and more. Why can’t he be what she needs? Why can’t she let me go? Why am I still here?
Why can’t I stop?
Insanity.
That’s what this is.
The next day, we find out Francis died in an accident. She’s been beside herself, and there’s no consoling her. I think she’s more upset that she found out she’s pregnant than the fact that her boyfriend’s closest friend and her best friend’s boyfriend died.
Me? I’m confused.
I’ve known Francis a long time.
Once, I’d even say we were friends.
He isn’t a drinker. If you knew his past, you would understand. And though Lo doesn’t talk to Nate a whole bunch, he and Francis keep in touch, too. Nate needed Frankie. He needed me. He needed someone. They’re close, for the same reasons Francis won’t drink. If Lo knew how close Nate and I are, she probably wouldn’t be a fan. That’s a story for another time, a long one that involves too many untold secrets.
Secrets that aren’t mine to tell.
It’s been three days since it all went down. Everything has been a mess.
Running a hand through my unruly hair, I watch Lo. Her despondency is not something I’m used to. She doesn’t usually act this way when she’s upset. She’s more of a crier. Right now, it’s almost as if she’s shut down. It’s a frightening thing to see.
I’m one of those people who doesn’t turn off my emotions. I can’t. I did that when my father hit Jase and I as kids. It’s what I did when Mom would drink herself nearly to death. It led to bad decisions, ones I barely remember, but the glimpses are enough.
Girls a plenty.
Alcoholism.
Near misses with pregnancies.
I was an all-around shitty person.
Right now, we’re in my car, driving Lo to Brookewood. Jase told her not to come, but she’s pregnant with his child. I’m not risking her rage, and he needs to comfort her, not Eleanor.
As I said, Ellie’s psycho.
Even if it’s not realistic, something in my gut tells me she had something to do with Francis dying. Once Lo is with Jase, I’m going to go see Nate. See what he knows.
Nate will have the answers. If not, he’ll have theories.
He’ll feed my curiosity, and if he doesn’t know, he’d rather hear it from me than anyone else.
At some point, she falls asleep while I brush my fingers through her long, ebony hair. This. This is what I want in life. It’s what I want to have forever, but she’s not mine to have. Not unless in some strange way, her and my brother don’t work out.
I’ve always had this idea of love and a happy ending. It’s always been with Lo’s hair between my fingers, her stomach swollen with my children, her left hand branding my ring, her saying she loves me and it’s in the way I want.
She’s always been it for me.
Until she found him.
The drive is odd without her filling the void, but her soft snores fill it just the same. It’s comforting, having her here, even though she has no clue I’m not here for Jason. I’m here for answers, and Nate is my best option.
We get to the small city of Brookewood, and I stop at a burger joint. Lo hasn’t eaten in hours, and that’s if she ate the food I brought her before my night classes last night. Unlike normal, I couldn’t stay and make sure she consumed what I brought her. My midterms were due and it’s a group project. As much as I wanted to make sure she was okay, I’d fail if I didn’t show up and participate. Now, I have to worry extra about her. She’s carrying my little niece or nephew, and that makes them family. Even if not, anything Lo created, I would love like my own. The baby isn’t something I could just abandon.
“Sparkle, baby,” I coax, remembering she hates that endearment. It makes her feel like she’s crossing a line we crossed a long time ago, but I can’t help it. “Come on. Wake up, sleepy head.”
I rock her a little, trying to ease her awake in the gentlest way possible. She hasn’t told me, but she hasn’t been sleeping like she should be. She’s restless, and with Jase not keeping in contact as much as a man should do with his woman, she only sleeps when I’m close by. With classes, I can’t be around as often as I’d like. I would try harder, but one of us has to keep focus and attempt normalcy.
“A couple more minutes,” she murmurs, her voice raspy with exhaustion.
As much as I’d love to let her sleep longer, we have to feed her and then get her to the college. She needs to be with Jase, and she can’t be with him if she’s knocked out.
Especially if Eleanor is around.
Ellie fucks everything up, and I’m sure she’s shoved her way into Jase’s arms, attempting to get him to love her. Maybe I’m just jumping to conclusions, but seriously, she’s had it bad for my brother for years, and I wouldn’t put it past her to go all out to get them to break up.
Again, she’s psycho.
“I can’t let you sleep any longer. You need to eat,” I implore, hoping she sees reason. She has a child to care for now, and she’s usually all for caring for anyone but herself.
“I don’t wanna, Tobe,” she whines, rolling toward the door. “Sleep... please.”
I cup her cheek, wishing she was mine. Shaking my head a few times, I drop my palm. Stop. It’s futile.
She grips my hand, pulling it back to her face. “Thank you. For always being here.”
Placing a kiss to my wrist, she unscrunches herself, unbuckling her seatbelt before leaving the car begrudgingly.
I do the same, and we head into the burger joint. I order our food, a chocolate milkshake and fries for her and a burger for me. She likes dipping her fries in her shake, and regardless of how much that disgusts me, I try not to cringe too much. That’s not even a pregnancy craving, just her weird ass self.
We sit at the little booth adorned with checkered black-and-white retro leather. The seats themselves are red, giving them a racecar feel. This place is vintage and right up her alley. She sticks a spoon into her milkshake, aimlessly swirling it around. It hits me as odd. She seemed to light up at the idea of sweets. Now, she’s in one of her moods. She’s going back and forth so much that I’m feeling whiplashed.
“What’s wrong?” I try, grabbing her hand that sits on the table, and it’s like my touch brought her back to reality.
“I’m scared,” she admits as my thumb rubs her palm in a circular motion.
Stop. Stop finding a way to touch her. I let go, my mind winning over the desires of my heart. Instead, my foot taps on its own accord, distracting my need to touch her.
It’s incredible how much a body can crave another’s, how much you can want someone else’s touch and love, praying for closeness so your heart can settle for a little while.
My heart craves hers.
My soul aches to be hers.
Does my heart beat for her? Or is it confused?
Do souls truly know their mates, or is that a tall tale our parents tell us to make us feel like our life has a purpose?
“Why are you scared?” I push the question out.
“What if he’s avoiding me because he doesn’t want our baby?” A stray tear leaves her eye, trailing slowly until it falls onto her lip, disappearing in her mouth.
I want to wipe it away, but I can’t be that person for her. Not even for Jase, but for me, I have to protect my heart and encourage it to heal and move on.
“He’s probably just busy with Eleanor, taking care of her while she’s distraught.”
“He’s supposed to take care of me! Of our baby! Maybe I was never supposed to be with him this long. How can he pick her needs over mine?” she cries out, her lip wobbling and body shaking with defeat. I look around, making sure the diner people aren’t thinking I’m some dick yelling at her, and give her a reassuring smile.
“Sparkle.” I sigh, my heart wanting to comfort while also trying to protect itself from the repercussions. “Let’s get you to the university, and you can see for yourself that he’s probably just being a good friend to her. Don’t let it get to you. As soon as you get there, he’ll be relieved. He’s probably so caught up in the death of Frankie that he’s forgotten life outside of the grief.”
Which I know isn’t true. They weren’t that close, and Jase isn’t a crier.
She’s either come to her own realization or accepted my half-assed excuse for my brother. Either way, she starts eating her nasty concoction while I scarf down mine.
By the time we’re back in the car, she’s her closed-off self again. It’s not like her. We usually have long conversations over everything, yet she is as silent as a mouse.
We get to BU, and she stares at Lautner Hall that houses her boyfriend. I’m dumbfounded that she hasn’t jumped out and ran to him. He doesn’t know we’re coming, but he’ll be happy to see her. I know I would be.
He has to be. It’s been a few weeks since their last rendezvous.
“Let me walk you,” I offer before going to her side of the car, letting her out.
“No,” she mutters as I open her door, her shoulders sagged, her night bag swung over her shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me, Tobes. You’re my best friend. I really do love you.”
I flinch.
I love her, too, just more than she loves me, differently than she loves me. In a way she’ll never reciprocate.
I muster a smile for her benefit. “I’d really prefer you to not walk the campus alone, Sparkle.”
“I have my pepper spray and cell phone. I’ll be okay. And I even brought this.” She pulls out a rape whistle and laughs. “Ellie told me it was a good idea.”
“She’s not wrong,” I say, pulling her into a long hug before letting her go.
She holds onto me. I can feel it in her, feel that she’s falling apart, that she’s terrified Jase will leave her, that he already has.
“I’m a phone call away,” I add, hoping she knows I care, even if I’m not giving her the tenderness she’s used to. Keeping my distance is necessary. I’m one step away from stealing her. I’m not that guy. Not anymore.
“I know,” she confirms before pulling away and walking toward his dorm.
I wait until she’s buzzed in before I leave.
Now... I need answers.