Page 40 of My Brother's Roommate (Frisky Business 2)
“It was me, my dad, and Maren,” he says, pointing toward the top apartment on the left. “In that two-bedroom up there.”
I glance up at the side of the building where he’s indicating and squint, trying to picture him here. “You wanted to show me . . . where you grew up?”
He nods. “I know you’ve had a lot of questions.”
I give him a small smile. “Your past is your business. And I’m happy to be patient. I just . . . want to understand you is all.”
“I know,” he says softly.
“What about your mom?” I ask on a whisper.
“She wasn’t in the picture. It was just us and Dad. Well, and his revolving door of girlfriends. And there was one . . .” Wolfie’s voice tightens, then trails off into a long, tense silence. “There was one who was especially bad,” he finally says, like he’s finishing a memory he would rather not face.
I draw in a slow, shaky breath, releasing it through my teeth.
What do I say? What questions are the right questions? Am I overstepping?
There’s no way of quieting all the questions overlapping in my brain. All I can do is trust my gut and remember what Scarlett said. Just be your usual supportive self, and the rest will come.
God, I hope she’s right.
It’s only now that I realize Wolfie and I are still holding hands, and I give him a quick, reassuring squeeze, then drag my thumb along the expanse of his palm. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to,” he says firmly, his voice gruff and sure. “I want you to understand.” His chest rises and falls in quick, measured breaths, his gaze still fixed on the front window of his old apartment.
His eyes are wild and worried, but I don’t want him to be anxious. “It’s okay,” I say, tightening my hand around his. “You can tell me anything.”
After a long, uneasy moment, he pushes back his shoulders and speaks, as emotionless as if he were reading from a phone book. “She came into my room one night. My dad’s girlfriend. Her name was Janine. I was sixteen. It was late. The room was dark. But I felt her sit down on the edge of the bed. And then,” he pauses, drawing another slow breath, “she touched me.”
My heart lodges in my throat, and it feels like there’s no oxygen left. I can’t catch my breath. She touched him? His dad’s girlfriend? This poor, broken man. I had no idea. He’s been living with this pain all this time?
“I am so, so sorry, Wolfie,” I whisper after a long, pain-filled silence. It’s the only thing I can think to say. But no amount of apologies could ever be enough. Not for what he’s been through. Once the initial shock wears off, a second thought rises to the surface. “Does your dad know?”
Wolfie nods somberly, his jaw clenched. “Told him the next morning. He brushed it off, said I probably just dreamed the whole thing and Janine would never do something like that. I thought I was doing the right thing by telling him, but I guess—”
“You were doing the right thing,” I say quickly, interrupting. “I’m so sorry he didn’t take you seriously.”
“It was a long time ago. But it . . . you know. Complicated a couple things.”
I bite my cheek, my head bobbing in a slow, sympathetic nod. “Of course it did. And that’s not your fault.” I mean every single one of those words.
My chest aches for him. For this truth he’s been burdened with for so many years, not feeling comfortable to share this horror with anyone. How would he ever feel comfortable opening up if his own father didn’t believe him? But Wolfie felt comfortable with me, and that makes my heart soar.
Maybe this step out of his comfort zone was to bring me understanding, or maybe it’s part of him healing. I’m not sure, but I am grateful.
Realization shoots through me.
Wolfie has secrets that he doesn’t want others to know. He has childhood pain and trauma. And as a result, sex can be difficult for him.
My throat is tight and my stomach is knotted. I wish I could fix this for him, but I know I can’t on my own. It’s his to endure. All I can do is be here, stand beside him, support him.
We stand wordlessly for a good long while, taking in the apartment building and all the old haunted memories that live there. When Wolfie finally breaks the silence, it’s with a low chuckle of disbelief.
“I can’t believe this place is still here. Thought they would’ve torn it down by now.” His mouth curls into a small, sad smile, his hand gripping mine extra tight. “But I’m glad it’s still here. So I could show you.”
