Page 64 of We Can Stay
Especially when I don’t want to hear it.
Reaching for my phone, I let my thumb hover above my brother’s name. Should I do this now? As much as I want to talk to him, I feel guilty for being so absent lately. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Guilt and anxiety churn through my body as I weigh the pros and cons.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I hit call.
“Look who’s back from the dead,” he answers on the second ring, and despite everything, I smile.
“Hey.” I lean back into the couch cushions, suddenly exhausted. “You awake?”
“Always am. You know that.” There’s rustling on his end, probably him getting comfortable for what he knows will be a long conversation. “What’s going on? You sound like hell.”
“Thanks. Really needed to hear that.”
“Would you prefer I lie?”
“No.” I close my eyes. “I closed the emergency clinic early tonight.”
There’s a pause. “Okay. And?”
“And what?”
“And are you calling to tell me you finally grew a brain, or are you calling because you feel guilty about closing early?”
“Both?” I rub my face. “Things aren’t going well with the sanctuary.” I fiddle with a coaster from the coffee table. “The owner of the land wants the money sooner, and one of the donors has pulled out. I can barely keep up with the regular clinic, and?—”
“Bro, I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “It does.” Turning to lie down on the couch, I stare at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. About the other day. I was a real ass to you.”
“Yeah, you were, but I’ve kind of come to expect it lately.”
“Damn, Ben. Don’t hold back” I press my fingers to my temple. “Have I turned into a jerk?”
“Stress has turned you into an occasional jerk.”
There’s a long pause, and I know my brother well enough to know he’s trying to decide whether to be brutally honest.
“Just say it,” I say. “I can take it.”
“Here’s the thing with you, and I mean this in the best way possible?—”
“Uh huh. Right.”
“You called me for honesty, not comfort.” But his tone gentles. “Look, we both know this started after Jessica. You went from taking care of her to taking care of everyone else’s animals. From managing her depression to managing a dozen different responsibilities. You never stopped to actually process the divorce or figure out who you are without a crisis to manage.”
The truth of it sits heavy in my chest. “I don’t know how to stop.”
“Sure you do. You just did it tonight by closing early.” He pauses. “Sebastian, you can’t save every animal. You can’t fix every problem. And you sure as hell can’t build a meaningful relationship if you’re never actually present for it.”
My brother pauses again, waiting for my reply. Silence is all I can give him right now. What he just said are some of the things that have been running on repeat in my own mind lately, and I haven’t sorted through them all yet, so I can’t respond until I do.
Realizing I’m not going to answer, he sighs and clears his throat before continuing.
“Look, I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, really. But it’s been months since we’ve seen each other. And I know you’ve been turning down visits from Mom and Dad. We’re only an hour away. You always used to make time for your family.”
When he’s done delivering that blow, there’s a heavy pause across the line.
He draws a long breath. “That was a lot. I’m sorry if?—”
