Page 168 of Rush of Jealousy

Donna releases me from her hold, and I step back to Graham’s side. “Nice to meet you both.”

“Graham, where’s your brother? Is he not coming? I told that boy that enough is enough, and this is a holiday to celebrate the togetherness of being a fam—”

The door creaks. “Don’t worry, I came. Wouldn’t miss your home-cooked turkey, Ma,” the voice behind me says.

And I know that voice. I am certain. My heart plummets to my stomach as I put the pieces together without confirming my conclusion with actual visual proof.

Graham squeezes my hand and looks down at me.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” I whisper.

“I’m telling you now.”

30

I turn slowly and eye the man walking into the house. It’s as if I am seeing him for the first time. As if the blue eyes staring back at me are not the same as the ones I have come to love so much. Holy shit. How did I not notice before? Why has Graham only talked about having a sister but never a brother?

“Oh, Nic!” Donna exclaims, throwing her arms around him. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to get off work.”

Nic?

I look at Dominic with so many questions. I am bursting at the seams to beg for him—anyone—to fill me in on the big secret.

What is going on? Is this the secret that Graham doesn’t want me to know? And why is it such a big secret? Why am I just finding this all out now?

My mind scrambles to try to understand why I didn’t put the pieces together sooner. Surely there was some sign that I chose to ignore.

I look up at Graham, and I can feel the blood washing out of my face, settling at my feet. I feel like they are molded in cement.

“I, um,” I clear my throat. “You guys are related?” I ask stupidly. Why am I constantly feeling dumb at the worst times possible?

“Oh, Graham, have some manners and introduce Angie to your brother,” Donna urges.

“Yeah, Graham,” I state blankly, “introduce me.”

“They met before, Mom.” His tone is even, and the fact that he is not adding any detail to this grand charade is what is unnerving me the most.

“When? How? And why does Nic get to meet your lady before we do, son?” Donna asks, obviously hurt.

“I’m on a temporary leave,” Dominic—or Nic—says. “And I met Angie while I was undercover.”

Undercover? Undercover for what? My head hurts.

“Can I please use your bathroom?” I ask softly. I am going to be sick. What the hell is going on right now?

“Of course, dear. Just go past the kitchen and there is a door that is labeled with a public man and woman decor sign.”

I excuse myself from this mental overload and go in search of the bathroom. My head starts to throb, and I feel my hands getting twitchy. I grab at a tissue on the vanity to wipe at my eyes. I look in the mirror and frown at the image looking back at me. I look weak and worn out. I pull open my purse and find my handy Altoids container. I am running dangerously low, and with my headaches—that are moving from a rare occurrence to a daily one—I am going to be out of my stock before I hit the end of the week. I toss a pill onto my tongue and cup my hands under the cold running water. I slurp it up out of my palm, wipe the residue off into the tissue, then toss it into the trash can.

I make my way out to the group gathered in the foyer to hear Donna chatting with her sons.

“Well, sorry to sound selfish, but I’m glad both my boys are home, no matter what the circumstances. Now, to get Penny here tomorrow. Then we’ll all be complete again. Dad took your advice, Graham, and is going to fly up to Seattle in the morning to sign her release papers for the day.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nic says with a relieved smile.

“I’m looking forward to seeing her,” Graham interjects. “The last time I tried, it wasn’t a good visit. But the daily reports for the past week look promising and the first sign of a positive progression.”

“Well,” Germain interjects, “I think the new therapist you hired has been life changing for her. She is finally able to vocalize her fears, which in and of itself is a breakthrough.”

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