“Yes, because of Rita. Don’t make me choose, Nolan, because it’s going to be her.” I can hardly believe the words leaving my lips, but it’s true. If I thought I’d stay in this godforsaken area, it would be for one reason only. Rita.
“Just like you chose Lisa.”
“What?” I glare at my brother, uncertain what he’s said.
“You picked her over me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You left me behind.”
I stare at my brother. Unbelievable. “I was in love. I married her. I didn’t leave you. You were an adult by then, Nolan. Capable of taking care of yourself. In fact, you needed to fucking grow up.” Jesus, he’d been twenty-three when I married Lisa. Why is this coming up now?
“I don’t want to be left behind.”
Staring at my brother in his chair, I should feel sorry for him. I want to feel something for him. He’s my brother. I love him, but right now, I hate him. He did this to himself. I coddled him too much by filling in for our father, compensating for our mother, and even taking over when he wasn’t fit to father his own son.
“I’m not leaving you behind, Nolan, but I need separation from you.”
“Where will you go?” he asks, and I glance up at the garage, full of my supplies and scraps, waiting for more sculptures to be made.
“I don’t know yet,” I state, turning back to Nolan. “But I need to do something for myself.”
Rita appears at the building site the next day, and I’m counting the minutes until the weekend. I need time away from everywhere and everything. If this had been a normal job, I’d have called in sick, but I can’t. I keep to myself, ignoring Rita, which is difficult in the small house. The project is nearing its end ahead of schedule.
As Rita slips into the newly laid out kitchen, I step out the back door and round the house for the front yard. I’ve been tiling the backsplash but need air. Standing beside my truck, I take deep, gulping breaths, hanging onto the edge of the bed. Just having Rita in the same room sets my heart racing, and a cold sweat running over my skin. I want to throttle her while wanting to pull her to me.
Despite the crunch of gravel near me, I don’t look up but keep my head between my outstretched arms.
“I wanted to apologize.” Rita pauses. “I thought I could help.”
Slowly, I lift my head but look over the truck bed instead of directly at her. “What’s that saying? You were out of line, counselor.”
No sound comes from Rita, not a snort or a laugh, so I turn to face her, finding her sad. She’s almost as sad as when she learned the truth about me, or what she thought was the truth. Either way, I’ll always have a connection to her beloved’s death. It wasn’t me, but it was my brother who took that man from her.
“He should pay somehow,” Rita states.
“That isn’t your decision. He’s my brother.” My voice rises, and Rita turns her head. “I could never turn him in. He’s in a wheelchair, for God’s sake. He’s suffered enough.”
“Has he?” Rita asks, turning her attention back to me.
“This isn’t like you, sweet.” Her nickname comes out bitter on my tongue. “You aren’t vengeful like this.”
Rita shakes her head. “It wasn’t about Nolan. It was about you.”
I nod because deep down inside, I know.
“I want you to be free of the constraint you feel. Be free to do as you please.” She swallows, and I visibly see her throat roll. “Be free to move about the country at will. That’s what you want, right? You want to leave this all behind.” She waves out a hand, implying the build.
“I don’t know what I want, Rita.” She flinches at the harshness in my voice, but I’m still upset. “You should have spoken to me, not tried to ambush me. Or Nolan.”
“I tried to call you.” She pauses. “And would you have listened? I got the message loud and clear the other morning.”
I could argue that I wasn’t brushing her off. I was separating myself from her. I needed to let her go. We weren’t going to be good together. My brother would always be between us. Rita had loved someone else, and she wasn’t going to get over him for someone like me, with connections to his death. Nolan would be a barrier between us.