Page 235 of Tell Me Something True

“It’s not that I don’t trust her,” he said slowly. “I do. And I know you’re right about letting her make her own choices. I just…” He stopped. Rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, then blew out a breath. “I’m afraid that if I’m not there to protect her, something bad will happen to her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been having some… issues lately. With… anxiety. Worrying about… fuck… everything.”

Frowning, Urban took a step closer. “Like what?”

“Like… one of you being hurt or killed. Sometimes, though, there aren’t any thoughts, just this overwhelming sense of panic, like I’m suffocating or having a heart attack.”

“Was that what happened at dinner a few weeks ago? When you said you’d gotten called into work?”

Miles nodded, remembering that dinner. How he’d had to sit in the parking lot until the worst of it was over.

How Tabitha sat with him on his kitchen floor and told him that first, big truth about the abuse and neglect she’d experienced.

“So it’s been going on a few weeks?” Urban asked.

Miles shifted. “A little longer than that.” He hesitated. Took another sip of beer, then told his older brother something he’d never told anyone. Not even Tabitha. “They’ve recently become more frequent, but they started after mom and dad’s accident.”

Urban’s mouth popped open. Shutting it, he shook his head, studying Miles in that careful way of his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought I could handle it. I thought I was handling it, but the past few months have proved I’m not.”

“No,” Urban said, clearly confused. “Why didn’t you tell me when it first started happening?”

Miles pushed away from the counter. Began to pace. “I couldn’t. We were barely hanging on as it was, trying to keep our family together. Helping Silas and Eli and Verity manage their grief. Trying to get through our own. I didn’t want to add something else to everything we were already carrying. I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a fucking burden. You’re our brother. We take care of each other.”

They did. Always. Miles knew how rare that was.

How special.

And he’d been terrified of fucking that up.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to admit I was struggling when we were all barely getting through each day.” Stopping on the opposite side of the island from Urban, he met his brother’s eyes. “And I thought I deserved them.”

“Deserved what?”

“The anxiety attacks. The endless worries. The intrusive thoughts. The nightmares.” His voice thickened, and no amount of clearing his throat could make it go away. “I thought they were my punishment.”

Urban set his beer down with a hard clap. “No.”

“If they hadn’t gone to my game—”

“No,” Urban repeated, walking around the island to stand in front of Miles. “No.”

Miles’s heart thudded heavily in his chest. He felt sick, the beer he’d drank bubbling in his stomach, threatening to rise up along with the words he’d never told anyone else. The secret he’d buried so deep inside, he could almost pretend it didn’t exist.

That it wasn’t real.

But he couldn’t keep this truth hidden. Not any longer.

It was destroying him.

“Mom didn’t want to go.”

His words seemed too soft, too quiet for how big of a secret he was sharing.

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