know, but I was too afraid to take the risk. Bubbe left me with this debt—with this shop crumbling beneath our feet, because I was already ruined. She didn’t want to ruin you too.”
“Jesus, Simon,” Levi said, and though Simon wasn’t watching him, he heard his brother shift on the counter. “You aren’t ruined.”
“I’m close enough,” Simon offered with a baleful smile. “You got out though.”
“And what? You’ll just let this place fall apart? Let the bank seize it?” Levi asked, his anger showing now.
Simon shook his head. “No. I’m…I’m going to sell it. Not the bakery, the building.”
“The apartment,” Levi said dryly.
Simon nodded. He stood there, and when Levi jumped down and stormed out of the room, Simon’s eyes closed, and he sagged against the counter. It wasn’t worse than he imagined, but not much better, either. He felt Levi’s anger and frustration, and he deserved all of it.
Glancing at the clock, he knew Kyle wouldn’t be long. Most of the prep-work was done, and Wednesdays were never a big day for them. Simon would work a few hours later than usual, feed the cat, then head back over to Rocco’s for their last night.
At least, the last night before Simon had to decide if he really was going to go all the way on camera. Resisting Rocco was getting harder and harder, his restraint at an all-time low. He wanted to be inside Rocco, or let Rocco sink into him. He wanted to be pulled apart in ways that made him weep with pleasure, not with anguish.
He was just so damn tired.
Turning back to the cookies, Simon shoved everything in his head into the dark shadows, then got back to work. The almond cookies were the last to bake besides the challah, and then he could focus on everything else. Levi would…well, he would either come around or he wouldn’t and Simon…
“This.” Levi’s sharp voice interrupted Simon’s thoughts, and he spun to face Levi who stood in the doorway that led to the stairs. He had stacks of papers clutched in his hands, and he walked over, slamming them down onto a clean spot on the baking counter. “This is everything?”
Simon glanced at the pile, and he couldn’t be sure, but he nodded anyway. “Probably. I think so. It was all in the safe.”
Levi thumbed the stack, then shoved them all to the ground. “You’re fucking ridiculous, Simon.”
He swallowed thickly and nodded. “I know.”
“You should have been a goddamn Christian.”
Simon blinked at him, startled and so confused. “What…”
“You suffer enough for a Jew but you’re such a fucking martyr,” Levi spat.
The accusation was so wild, so absurd—so Levi—that the laugh bubbled out of Simon’s chest before he could stop it. And it wasn’t even funny, really. It mostly hurt. The honesty of it, and the fact that while Levi never felt chosen, Simon never felt seen—and it was all crashing down. His carefully constructed walls were nothing more than rubble as he bent in half.
He wasn’t quite sure when his laughter turned into sobs, but Levi was at his side, an arm around his waist as he got him to one of the stools. Simon couldn’t begin to count how many times he’d done this with roles reversed—with Levi crying rivers into the front of his shirt when kids were mean, when his boyfriends dumped him, when he was lonely. He had bouts of sadness and rage, and Simon had held him and rubbed his back through all of them.
But it had never been like this. Simon felt small, and weak, and even a little young. It threw him off kilter and it felt so wrong, but there was something to be said about taking comfort in family. He liked that Levi’s arms—harsh as they could be—held him tight. He liked that this was a reminder that Levi was still here, and he wasn’t totally alone in the world, even if his brother hated him a little.
“You should have told me,” Levi murmured as he rubbed circles on Simon’s back.
“I know.” Simon’s voice was thick, and muffled against the front of Levi’s apron. “You were already hurting so much.”
“So were you. I love Bubbe—I’ll always love her, but it was unkind and unfair of her to dump that all on you.”
Simon swiped his hands down his face as he pulled back, and Levi took a step away. “You were twelve, Levi. It was more than just not wanting to burden you. You were a child.”
“And then I wasn’t,”