Page 148 of A Love That Broke Us
I force a laugh, but it’s dry and humorless. “He’d have to be here to kick his ass.”
“God, Al. I’m so sorry. What can I do?” Her voice is warm and loving, full of concern.
“Nothing…” I pause, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “There’s this part of me that doesn’t even want him to come home. Because when he’s here, I don’t think rationally. I turn into this codependent version of myself. He manipulates, gives me some sob story that smells like bullshit a mile away, and for some reason, I eat it up.” I scoff, bitter. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
“Why? Because he’s my brother? That doesn’t make him any less of an asshole.”
The tears come again—and I’m so—God. Damn. Tired. Of crying.
“But he’s not an asshole,” I whisper. “He’s Jensen.”
Megan doesn’t say anything. She’s good at that, just sitting in the discomfort with me.
“Do you think your mom knows where he is?”
“She doesn’t. I talked to her about an hour ago.”
I scoff.
“She really doesn’t. I know you don’t trust her anymore, but… I don’t know, I feel like I’d know if she was lying to me. I know she babies him. Trust me, I know. I grew up in that bullshit. But she sounded worried.”
“I’m sure she did,” I say sarcastically.
She also sounded real curious last year when she asked what time Jensen was getting home from Boston. Turns out, Christy’s quite the actress. “You know she picked him up from the detox center last month?”
Megan goes quiet.
“Are you serious?” she finally says. “When did Jensen relapse? I thought this was all new.”
“Yeah. Me too,” I say. “I started suspecting about three weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure. Then Jensen told me he couldn’t go back to detox—that they wouldn’t take him. I didn’t understand why… until he finally admitted he checked himself out a month ago, and your mom picked him up.”
I exhale, biting down a wave of bitterness. “She brought him home. Tried to detox him herself. He disappeared, of course.”
I glance toward the window, shaking my head. “I sent her a nasty text. She replied and said I could never understand because I don’t have kids. And you wanna know the ironic thing about that?” I add, my voice sharper now. “I’d love to have kids. But I’m married to her son, who can’t keep his shit together.”
“Seriously?” Megan groans. “That’s so my mom. That makes me so angry for you.” She pauses, then continues. “Why didn’t you tell me? I told you, you don’t have to do this alone.”
“I know. But it’s not your problem. You’ve got your own life, a family to worry about. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“Stop. My life is so fucking easy. I’m here for you. Always.”
She goes quiet, and I can hear it in her breath. She’s choking up. It takes a lot for Megan to cry, so when she does, it means something. “God, I’m sofuckingmad at him,” she says finally. “I want to tell you to walk away. To stop putting up with his shit. But goddammit, Alley… I don’t want to lose you as my sister.”
It goes silent, both of us too overwhelmed to speak. The tears spill again, soaking the neckline of my shirt.
“I don’t… want to… lose you either,” I manage to choke out.
“Listen,” Megan says gently. “I’m gonna do what I can to find him, okay? I’ll call around. I know people who know Seth. Maybe that dickwad has a clue where he is.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll call you if I findanything.”
“Thanks, Meg.”
“Don’t thank me. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
