Page 92 of Here's to Now

“Everything.”

“They’re a handful. There’s Gia, who is fifteen. She’s so smart and beautiful. Then there’s the twins, Gunner and Gillian—brilliant and fun, but exhausting. Finally, there’s the youngest, Graham. He’s the one who was sick. He’s practically a mini-me.” I tilt my head her way and whisper conspiratorially, “Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

“Bad,” she whispers back.

“Mean.”

“All G names,” she says absently, turning to look out the window. “You talk about them with a lot of love.”

“I do?”

She nods. “Yes. I can’t figure it out then…”

“Figure what out?” I strain to hear her over the noise of the plane.

“I knew you had one brother, but why not tell me about the others?”

I hear that loud and clear. “Because I’m not proud of my past regarding them.”

“You give that excuse a lot.”

“I’ve fucked up a lot.”

Finally, Haley turns back toward me. “Why didn’t you tell me about them.” Even though it technically is a question, it’s not spoken as one.

“Because I was afraid you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“What could you have possibly done for that to happen?”

“I left them.”

She draws farther away.

“Twice.”

I can see it in her eyes; she’s pulling away from me. I’m losing her. I’m losing her because I’m a dumbass and told her this, because I opened up about the horrendous things I’ve done in my lifetime. Once again, my past is coming back to haunt me in the worst ways.

“What happened?”

“What?”

“What happened, Gaige? Why did you leave them?”

I rub my sweaty palms against my jeans and wiggle around in my seat. “I, uh, left when I was barely sixteen the first time.”

“When your parents kicked you out, correct?” she interjects.

“Yes.”

“And the second time?”

I scrub my hands over my jeans harder, faster. Haley notices and places a hand over mine to still the movements. “The second time was about six months after my parents died. Graham was only seven months old.”

She closes her eyes, and I can see a tear glisten in the corner. Reaching up, she swipes it away as her green eyes meet my burnt umber gaze. “Why?”

“Because I was a hothead. I was an unemotional, uncaring fucker. My aunt, who is now the primary caregiver for the kids, was hard to live with. To be fair, I was even more difficult. We clashed too much. One night when I came home drunk and tried to shush a crying Graham and then almost dropped him, she forced me from the home.”

“And she just let you go on your own? As a minor?”

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