Page 83 of Nepenthe (Bracing for Love 2)

“I do want that,” I interrupt. “I just don’t know if I can and it not kill me,” I add quietly.

“You’ve been holding it in for over ten years, and that’s hurt you more. Just look. That’s all I want.”

When I do open my eyes, I keep them on her. “You were supposed to stay quiet.”

One corner of her mouth lifts. “You gave me a free pass when you brought the box out of the closet.”

My throat tightens from unshed tears before I begin to slide my eyes over to the photo. Olivia returns to resting her back against my chest as I look over her shoulder. There we are. All six of us, smiling, never happier. Mom is holding a little Lucy on her hip and Dad is standing next to her. Patrick, Jon, and I are in front of them in our football uniforms because we just finished a game.

Dad’s grin is probably the biggest out of all of us. We played an excellent game and he was proud of us. My brothers and I have Dad’s dark brown eyes, while having Mom’s black hair. Lucy’s and Mom’s blue eyes spring to life in the photo. There’s so much of Mom in Lucy, one more reason why we’re so protective of her.

“That’s one of the last pictures of all of us together,” I finally say, my voice thick. “We were always that happy. Always.” Until they died and I fell apart. My two biggest supporters in the world were gone. There’s nothing I could do to bring them back. No way to cope enough to make it stop hurting. How could life be normal with them not here? No Mom baking us cookies and having us keep an eye on Lucy. No Dad to tell us how we could be better with our game and teach us how to be a good big brother.

No parents to watch us grow up, graduate, and go to college. No one to walk Lucy down the aisle and attend our weddings. No one for our future kids to call Grandma and Grandpa. No one for us to watch over when they grow old together. We’re going to miss all of that. They will miss it too. How are we ever going to be as happy as we were in that picture when two people aren’t here anymore?

“I miss them so much.” My voice is rough, which surprises me because I feel like I’m ten again, standing next to my siblings at my parents’ funeral. It was singlehandedly the worst day of my life.

“I know,” Olivia whispers, handing me the picture before turning so she can hug me. “Tell me about them. One thing about each of them.”

Two facts. I can do that. I think long and hard first. “Mom loved to sing. She sounded like an angel. None of us inherited that from her, though. Dad liked to help us with our homework. He used to say that we needed a good education and he would always add, ‘Because none of you are moving into the basement as an adult.’ Mom always laughed, but I never really understood what he meant until I got older. I’d do anything for the chance to be able to move into the basement.”

I set the picture face down next to us on the bed because I can’t look at it any longer. It’s too hard. Olivia tightens her arms around me.

“They would be proud of you, Corey.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, I do. You’re there for your siblings like they wanted. You graduated from college. You’re working and you’re a good man. They would be proud,” she reassures before adding, “We can lie here and be quiet again if you want.”

No sweeter words have ever been spoken. “Thank you, Olivia.”

WE STAYED IN bed for most of the rest of the day, except when we ate. Today, I’m feeling good, and I want to get out of the apartment. Who could have guessed that would ever h

appen. Olivia spent the night with me and spends most of the day with me as well.

“Time for you to go,” I declare.

She glances over at me, still wearing my hoodie. “Why?”

“Because you need to get ready. We’re going out.”

She doesn’t ask questions. Olivia gives me a wide smile, a quick kiss, and then she leaves for her place. I get ready myself and then spend twenty minutes waiting on her in her living room.

“Hey,” she says as she enters. “Want to do yoga and watch One Tree Hill when we get back? You’re going to feed me, right?”

Chuckling, I stand. “I might. I found an even bigger arcade here, which is where we’re going, so you can play for your dinner.”

“Are you going to play for my key again?”

“Yep. And you’ll pay for dinner too.”

“You have a deal.” Once we’re outside, Olivia dangles her keys with a smirk. “I’ll drive.”

“Olivia, no,” I tell her firmly. Unfortunately, our cars are parked within three spaces of one another. “I’m taking you out, so I’ll drive.”

“But I love driving—” she tries.

“Because you try to imitate what you do in the game. No,” I repeat, opening the passenger door to my car. “Let’s go. If you win, I’ll let you drive us home.” Compromise is a requirement for relationships, right? Too bad this compromise could get me killed with her driving. That’s exactly what she needed to hear to get into my car, though.

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