you fucked up. What happened?” Just like being a sixteen-year-old protecting his little brother, I watch as he crumples in front of me. The cocky son of a bitch who always had this front of confidence and edge is nowhere to be found. But this Toby? This is the little kid who drank to wash away his sins. The one who nearly killed himself to be happier. The one who made choices that ruined both of us forever.
“I married someone, and she changed my fucking life,” he moans, his voice sad and strangled. The way the mood has vastly changed has me shaking with adrenaline and anger, yet very aware that the man on the chair across from me is anything but challenging right now.
“Keep going,” I push, wanting to know what he’s done and what I need to do to fix this. That’s what I am, after all—the fixer. Whether he sees it that way or not, it’s what he’s always reduced me to.
“Her name is Joey. Joey Moore-Hayes.”
“Moore... like Mayor Moore?” I nearly choke. If I had water, I’d be a comical commercial, spitting it everywhere. Leaning against my desk once more, I grip the table, not knowing what to make of this information.
“We got wasted in Vegas five years ago. Tied the knot. Then when we finally found out, instead of annulling it like Joey deserved, her father convinced her to stay for her inheritance.” He sputters this information out so fast that when he takes in a sharp breath, I’m stuck on the fact that this wasn’t a choice marriage. “Before he convinced her, he threatened me. To ruin my life. He knew about my alcoholism and how finicky my business handlings have been.”
“What a piece of shit,” slips out from my mouth without me acknowledging it.
“Yeah, but that’s not the worst part.”
“There’s more?”
He laughs bitterly, the jaded front present on his features. “Much more. Might need to sit for this, brother.” Letting out a heavy breath, I nod, heading to my chair.
“Joey and I fell in love,” he admits, wiping his thumb across his lip as contemplation festers above the surface. “She was bright and perfect. Fierce. So fucking fierce,” he rambles. “She changed my life. I got sober. We had everything, Jase. Every-fucking-thing.”
I stare at him as I recognize the lost soul leaking from his pores. Something happened. A damaged moment that tethered them was somehow severed, and the foreboding present in my veins only has me on edge. Whether our hatred runs deep from past memories, seeing my brother on the brink of throwing in the towel has me on edge.
“We got pregnant.” The tears leaving his eyes make my throat feel sticky, and I try swallowing back the emotion, thinking of Lilac. “We lost it.”
My chest pinches at that. The barren look in my brother’s eyes is one I know all too well. He’s hurting, resigned to the fact that pain is his routine.
“What did you do?” I whisper, wanting to know if he fucked up as I did or if he truly became a better man than the one I allowed myself to be.
“She pushed me away and found herself with Francis.”
“Fuck,” I hiss.
“Sound like a fucking sob story?” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, and it takes all my strength to stay seated and not hug him. Not too long ago, he was Francis.
“I was wrong,” he angrily adds. “About everything.”
“What do you mean?” I ask hesitantly, not sure if I want to know.
“Well, I saw them. Hugging, he kissed her face and shit.”
“He’s French,” I offer.
“Don’t act like you weren’t always on edge when I’d kiss Lo’s forehead.”
“You were in love with her,” I bite, grinding my molars, feeling my nails dig into my flesh. God, the fact that the resentment rides me this hard isn’t pleasant at all.
“Francis and Joey have history.”
Rubbing a palm down my face, I pinch the bridge of my nose. The fact that his story somehow mirrors mine is fucking astounding.
“They didn’t do anything, according to both of them.”
“Do you believe them?”
“Starting to,” he admits. “That didn’t stop me from telling her to sleep with who she wants and I’d do the same.”
“Please don’t say—”
“I fucked other people,” he spits. “In spite of her and hating myself every fucking time, I did it. Didn’t enjoy it or fall in love, but to hurt her, I fucked other women.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hiss, suddenly not feeling as bad for him. He’s