Page 57 of What are the Chances

“I get it. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

My eyes move away from Charlotte, watching as a blue car makes its way down my parents’ street, slowing and stopping alongside the curb, in front of where we’re standing.

Charlotte steps forward and opens the door on the passenger side. A heavy weight presses down on my chest. She’s slipping away, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t tell her not to go. I can’t make her stay.

“Char, wait.”

She stops, her hand resting on top of the door. She turns to face me, tears lingering in her eyes. I can tell her anger is being washed away by the hurt.

“Where are you going? I just need to know you’ll be safe.”

Blinking, a tear falls and slides down her cheek, landing on the concrete with a small, intricate splash.

“Family. I’m going to stay with my family.” Taking a deep breath, she looks down at her feet before her eyes meet mine. “You know, Mason, I’m not the pathetic, lonely woman you and Sam seem to believe I am.”

“Charlotte, that’s not—” I’m breathless. I take a step off the curb, wanting to stop her, but I’m reminded of why I can’t. I can’t make Charlotte do anything. I never wanted to, and I hate knowing she thinks I would. I only want her to be happy—even if it’s not with me.

“Goodbye, Mason.” Charlotte closes the door behind her, and the car drives off, leaving me standing in front of my parents’ house.

I’m not sure how long I stand at the edge of the sidewalk, but know I’ve stood here long enough to know Charlotte isn’t coming back. I’ve also managed to play out my last moments with Charlotte like a movie on repeat. Every move from when we were lying together in my bed to when Sam showed up, and I kissed her just before she stepped out of the room. I think about when I walked back into the living room, grocery bags dangling from my hands, only to find out, mere seconds before I walked in, Charlotte had told my brother she was in love with me.

I hunch over, wrapping my arm across my stomach. It turns as I remember what Sam had said. Charlotte was in love with me, and somehow, I had fucked it up. Sam wasn’t the eegit—I was.

The sun dips in the sky and my legs feel numb. My whole body is numb as I turn around, forcing myself to go back in the house. When I walk in, I find Sam in the living room, sitting in the arm chair, his head tipped back, his eyes closed. His phone is resting in his hand, the screen blank.

“I’ve called her about a hundred times. She won’t answer,” he mumbles. His eyes are still closed, and he doesn’t move. He must have heard me come in.

My arms and legs are still numb, but as I stare at my brother, I realize I’m numb with anger. It’s the only feeling I seem to be aware of.

Rearing my leg back, I kick his chair. Startled, Sam opens his eyes and sits up. His phone drops, smacking against the tile floor.

“What the feck was that for?”

“You fecking gobshite,” I yell. “Of course, she isn’t answering her phone. This is all your fault.”

Sam stands up and walks toward me. We’re nearly the same height, so when he stands centimeters away from me, his blue eyes match my green, the tip of his nose nearly touching mine.

“My fault? Careful, dear brother,” he warns. “I don’t think this is a fight you want to start because if you do, I’m ready. I have plenty to say. Starting with you being the pot calling the kettle black. It’s just as much yer fault as it is mine.”

I roll my eyes and step back, feeling his closeness beginning to suffocate me.

“Yer full of shite, Mase,” Sam yells. From what I can see, he’s seething with rage as well. “Ye seem to forget one little detail. I was friends with Charlotte way before you even met her. I care for her like a sister. I was trying to protect her!”

His voice has grown louder with every word, and I thank the Lord over and over, all the Airbnb guests have checked out. Only I’m not sure whether it would have mattered if they were here. We’d still be fighting just the same, yelling just the same.

“I care about her, too, you arse!” I yell back. “I wanted to tell her about it, but every time I got close, even the tiniest bit, I heard your obnoxious little voice in my head. You don’t get to make decisions for people, Sam. You just don’t. The truth is the truth, whether people want to hear it. You don’t make that decision for them. You let them decide and hope to all fecking hope, you can simply be there for them.”

“Right,” Sam nods. “You’re right, brother. I shouldn’t have told you to keep it a secret, but you didn’t have to listen to me. You could have told her. Apparently, you’ve had ample time. For fucks sake, you were sleeping with her!” The sarcasm laced in his voice grows.

Sam and I are close enough I can tell the difference between his emotions. Right now, with him standing in this room with me, he isn’t really angry with me for sleeping with Charlotte. He’s hurt because I didn’t tell him I was falling for Charlotte. He feels left out of the loop. Like the kid who was picked last in gym class. The last to know. So, I don’t take offense of what he says. Mostly, because his points are valid and hold truth.

“I should have told her,” I repeat. My voice is softer now and disappointment washes over me. It doesn’t matter if I yell at Sam or go fecking cry in a corner. I wouldn’t do that, anyway, but that’s beside the point. I can repeat those same words until I’m blue in the face, but it doesn’t change the fact I didn’t tell her. It doesn’t change the fact when Charlotte looks at me now, she knows I kept a secret from her. And I know she looked at me the same way she had Kyle.

“I should have told her,” I whisper again.

“Mason, I’m really sorry.”

I hold my hand up, telling my brother to stop. I need a break. I need to get away from Sam.

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