Page 9 of Bitter Truths

“Good, good. Max is downstairs. Are you ready for dinner?”

“Sure, Mom. Coming.” I mutter, dropping my brush on my desk.

I’ve avoided Max as best I can since he completed his treatment and came home, a quieter, sadder version of himself.

Although I miss my brother, who was my best friend, I can’t see past what he became. Somewhere along the way, he lost his sanity and chased it with a host of drugs that turned him into a raging asshole.

As far as I know, his debts to the creepy fucker Patch were quietly paid off, but since I’ve been avoiding him, I don’t know the particulars, and my parents haven’t volunteered anything.

He’s going back to school too, presumably sober, but this time there will be no Griff to watch over him per Mother’s hovering need. Max and Griffin are no longer friends.

Max slept with my perpetrator. And yes, I wasn’t completely honest, but knowing how badly I hurt, regardless of the circumstances, should have meant something.

The icing on the fucking sour-ass cake is that Griffin, who’s decidedly not into guys, could never be more than a friend to Max anyway. I guess Max was okay with Griff being a little man-whore as long as it wasn’t with me.

Diabolical shit.

So, yeah, sitting down across from Max for dinner isn’t how I want to spend my evening, but I’ll do it for my mom.

Mom turns away, and I pause next to my dresser, caught on a picture of Griffin, Max, and me from before. I found it the other day, packed away in the closet and pulled it out to put in a box, but then I lost interest in doing so. In the image, we’re linked with our hands around each other’s shoulders, facing the camera with wide smiles, but you can see the cracks beneath the veneer if you look closer.

Max has a tightness behind his expression I never bothered to notice while he looks at Griffin from the corner of his eyes. Griffin’s head is slightly turned toward me, and I’m looking up at him with an adoring gaze.

Griffin, our sun, has a wide smile on his face, and his luminous eyes dipped toward mine, but the sight makes me huff because it was all a lie. Griffin was hiding a side of him I never could have imagined, and Max was contemplating games that would tear our world apart.

Clearly, I had my head buried in the sand, and I wonder if I could have influenced the outcome if I had opened my fucking eyes.

Inhaling deeply against the burn in my chest, I follow my mom down the hall and will away the tears. It would seem, even in my rage, I will never let go of the painful love I gave to the fucker. And I’m forced to swallow the bitter pill dry because I am nothing if not weak.

“Hals,” Max says, raising his dull eyes to mine.

I glance at him quickly before looking away and force a smile, mumbling, “Hey.”

He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “How was work?”

“Fine,” I mumble and he looks away at my lackluster response.

He used to be the daredevil who pestered me into all kinds of trouble, and now he’s a sad sack with a perpetually blank expression.

Mom sets the roast on the table, ruffling Max’s hair in the process, and he smiles, mumbling, “Mom.”

I can’t help the grin that twitches my lips, because I see I see the chagrin he can’t hide. Max has hated this since we were old enough to think it uncool, and Mom, completely oblivious, continues to torture him.

Max meets my stare, and his eyes light up at my expression before dropping when I look away. A flush of shame heats my cheeks, and I damn myself because I don’t have to treat him with kindness. Yet I feel like a dick for ignoring him when he looks so damn miserable.

Guilt is a motherfucking ugly cross to bear.

As part of his treatment, Mom and Dad attended therapy sessions with him, but I flat out refused, and if being in the hospital was good for anything, my mental health was proclaimed too unstable to risk it.

But now that we’re both home, he lurks, and I sense he wants to get me alone, which is why I avoid him as much as possible. I’m not ready for whatever he has to say, and frankly, I’m worried that his vendetta against me isn’t over.

He may act and look contrite, but I know only too well that he’s a hell of an actor. Shit. It took me years and Miranda, Griffin’s side piece, to see he was in love with Griff.

With any luck, he truly is sober, though.

As for our love for the irresistible Griffin, it runs deep because it’s driven us both insane.

“So, you said goodbye to your coworkers, Hals?” Dad asks.

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