“She can be a lot sometimes.”
My mom laughs. “That’s our little Audrey. It’s what makes her unique.”
“I know.”
“Though I can’t say I don’t pity her future husband.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief as she says this.
“Honestly, Mom, may the Lord be with him.”
We laugh.
There’s something about my sister that makes me laugh and want to cry at the same time, yet my heart is full from having her in my life.
I love her to death.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
But even I can acknowledge that on some days I need a little breathing room from it all.
Harvey
Two Years Ago . . .
Henrik threw me a house party for my twenty-second birthday, and I didn’t have the guts to tell him that was the last thing I wanted.
I haven’t been social since the accident six months ago, and he probably figured that this would do me some good.
Wrong.
Instead, I smiled, and drank, and smoked weed.
I guess it went better than expected.
Until I notice Gemma’s motorcycle once the guests are gone.
“What the fuck is her bike doing in the backyard, Hen?” I ask, perplexed.
Henrik had the audacity to retrieve and give back her dented motorcycle from the accident. As if she would ever ride it again.
“Calm down…it’s not like she’ll be riding tonight. Besides, how do you know that it was me?”
Do they not see me?
I can’t use my fucking legs!
Why onearthwould she want to get back on that bike when she could’ve died?
The risks are way too high, and insanity has a price.
Clearly.
“Tonight?” I scoff, fumes coming out of my ears. “She won’t be riding—ever. And of course it’s fucking you—she’d never do this to me!” I say with a conviction I don’t feel.
“Harv…that’s not up to you, man.”
I look at my brother, and I can see the color vanishing from his face. He knows he struck a nerve, and I’m not comfortable with the level of anger I feel right now.
I want to take Gemma’s motorcycle and reduce it to bits.