You wound me.” He puts his hand on his chest, stumbling back dramatically.
I scramble out of the mess of sheets and leap over my bed. He catches me easily, curling me in his arms. He sways us back and forth, and I wait for the avalanche of emotions to start, but they don’t. We stay like this for several minutes until I find my voice.
“What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you, too.” He chuckles in my ear.
“I’m sorry, that was rude. I’m in shock.”
“We’ve never gone this long apart. Even when I went to summer football camp in college, it was only five weeks. Not to mention, your bullshit text.”
“It wasn’t bullshit. It’s the truth.”
“You’re coming home for Christmas, Bizzy.”
I step back, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. We sit on the sofa, and I lay my head on his shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you.” I avoid the subject of Christmas.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at me.”
I raise my head and try my best not to show any emotions. I fail.
“How are you? Don’t think about lying to me.”
“I’m okay…” I start to give him the same response I’ve given my mom every time she calls. But it won’t work.
“That’s a lie. I’m not okay. I’m trying to understand, but my heart is broken. I’m not sure there’s a way to get over this hump. There doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve gone through so many scenarios in my head, and none of them turn out with a happy ending for me. The thing is, I was prepared for this. That’s one reason I came to Charlotte, to give him space and force him to come to terms with everything. He was always so worried about me. I was doing great, too. Then he barged in, making more promises. I let myself believe them. The day he got on that plane was the first step in his new life. He doesn’t even seem like the same Shaw.”
“I have to believe he’s the same person under this cloud of unknowns.”
“No, he’s not. He’s a different person. It’s in his voice. It’s the baby. Him having a son has given him a new perspective. I understand it, but my heart is having a hard time caching up.”
“You need to talk to him.”
“Nicky, I understand he’s your brother, but you really suck at the jilted girlfriend talk. You should take pointers from Claire. She’s an excellent teacher.”
I try to make a joke, but it falls flat.
“Skipping coming home at Christmas isn’t going to make you feel any better, Bizzy. It’s only going to fuck with you more. You need to see him face to face, let him explain.”
I scoot away and try to stop the explosion of betrayal boiling inside of me. “Do you know anything about what’s happening? Do you know he’s basically blown me off with a few texts and two-minute phone calls? I call and it goes to voicemail, then I’ll get a text hours later saying he’s busy. But in those few precious minutes I do get to talk to him, I find out he has plans with Sasha. If he’s not at work, it seems like he’s with her. Our entire relationship has deteriorated to minutes of conversation that revolve around a woman I hate.”
“He’s not blowing you off.”
“Nicky! If you stick up for him one more time, I’ll kick your ass!”
He searches my face for a minute and starts to laugh—loud, roaring laughter that makes me want to leap across the couch and tackle him.
“Stop laughing at me!”
“I can’t help it! You’re hilarious.”
“I am not. I am pissed!”
“GOOD! It’s time you get pissed! This martyr act has been exhausting to watch! Jesus, for months we’ve watched you fall into this little world and hated every second of it. Get pissed! It’s time!”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“I mean, our Bizzy is a spitfire! That woman I found in the bed minutes ago is not you! That’s a woman admitting to defeat, sinking into a pit of depression without researching the facts. You ASSUME he’s always with Sasha, but he’s doing shit out of obligation to his son.”
“Thank fucking God you finally arrived!” Claire comes in, slamming the door behind her. “It’s about time!”
“I got here as soon as possible.” He gets up to greet her.