make sure to put as much mockery and sarcasm in that moniker that John Fitzgerald, the CEO of the great conglomerate, Fitzgerald House, deserves.
“Julian…”
“Which brother?” I press, my words clipped and low.
If I close my eyes right now, I swear I can see the look on his face whenever he’s unfortunate enough to see Aiden in the house, Aiden playing on the beach, Aiden in his fucking life…
Since I’ve been old enough to understand and read a room, I’ve known that the topic of Aiden has been hard on him. He never talks about him. Never mentions him. He just pretends like Aiden doesn’t exist.
“You know who I’m talking about—”
“Aiden,” I cut him off, standing up now, unable to remain seated a second longer as if my life isn’t hanging by a thin thread and that my family isn’t about to be ripped apart. “His name is Aiden John Fitzgerald. He’s your firstborn son. He has your name and you will fucking acknowledge him because he’s still your fucking son!”
Not that he has had the decency of referring to Aiden as anything less than a mistake.
“I know his name…”
“So why don’t you ever mention it?” I demand. “For you, he just doesn’t exist. Your world would be nothing short of perfect if he wasn’t here, huh?”
“Julian, I—,”
“Is it because you’re a coward who runs away from his so-called problems? Or maybe you’re not man enough to recognize that your son has Down syndrome and with that comes other health risks?”
I feel her before I hear her sharp gasp coming from behind me.
I close my eyes, the fight leaving my body as tension, pain, grief, anger and helplessness all come crashing down into my soul with a vengeance that weakens my knees and my voice.
“Julian—,”
“Mom isn’t doing well, but the doctors want both of you down here. Right now.” And with that, I cut the call, but I don’t turn around.
I need a moment to compose myself.
I have a lot that I need to do. I need to make sure that this girl, whoever she is, doesn’t breathe a single word about what she just heard to anyone or I will ruin her life.
Glancing down at my bleeding knuckles, I try taking a deep breath, but my chest is tight. Everything is tight and heavy.
Should I be feeling this way or are those just side effects of knowing that your older brother is going to die soon and your parents—who should be here protecting him—don’t give a damn?
My phone rings again, but I can’t bring myself to answer it.
Before I can react, a small, soft hand with light pink—or is it purple?—nail polish reaches for my bleeding knuckle and suddenly I stop shaking. I didn’t even know I was trembling this hard.
She grabs the ringing phone, and without blinking she answers it, pressing the iPhone to her ear.
My head shoots up so fast, catching her gaze, a sharp retort on my tongue, but it dies down the moment I lock eyes with her.
“Listen here, you selfish, shitty parent with no morals. Instead of harassing your son, why don’t you come down here and be there for your family! Stop calling and stop making excuses. Just come down here!”
And with that, she cuts the phone, switches it off, then delicately slips it in my front jean pocket, all while holding my gaze.
It’s in that moment that a tidal wave crashes into my chest, washing over me to a point where I feel like I’m going to drown. It’s like standing over a cliff with sharp rocks below and I’m about to happily fall over, drawn by her overwhelming allure. It’s her.
This girl.
She. Sees. Me.
Every single inch of me, she sees me.
I suck in another labored breath. It seems I’ve been doing this since I first saw her dancing in the rain, but now, I think the axis of my entire world is shifting as I stare down into her beautiful eyes.
I don’t dare blink as we stare at each other in that lonely hallway, reserved for the worst cases—I think.
Grief lingers in the air, death looming over us, but somehow, I sink into the unknown depths of her eyes. Into the captivating, tortured depths of a girl I was sure was going to break my heart into shreds.
It didn’t take her long to do just that.
2
“Let’s get this cleaned and wrapped up,” I murmur, feeling like my brain was just dumped in an industrial-like, rusty deep fryer from Popeyes.
He stares at me