Page 101 of The Twins

“Have I at any point judged you for it?” I ask, afraid of what he’ll say. When he doesn’t open his mouth, I feel disappointed… In myself.

So I don’t say anything.

Exasperated, I sit there next to him.

“I’m a burden,” he blurts out.

“You’re not a burden. Never,” I instantly respond. “Grey adores you. Your brother can’t live without you. I—” The words don’t come out. I need a fucking cigarette.

“I want to go to bed,” Remo says. The unspoken words create a ridge between us. He gets up from the floor, and I follow suit. “Can you remove the food? Throw it out in the trash? It stinks.”

“No, I won’t throw it out,” I tell him. I wrap everything up to the best of my abilities, and I place it by the nightstand—in case he feels like stealing a bite anytime soon.

“Can you leave?” Remo asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“You’ll sleep in a bed with me?”

“Yes,” I tell him. I can do that. There’s no need to make it a thing, is it? We’ve slept in the same bed before. Sure, Grey was naked between us, and there was a lot of come involved, but circumstances change, don’t they?

I take a deep breath, and I settle on the sheets. Remo curiously observes me as I get comfortable on the hard mattress. My back’s going to hurt by the end of the day, but who gives a fuck. “I’m here for you today, and I won’t leave. You’re not alone. Let that sink in.”

Repositioning the pillows, I gaze at the ceiling. I fold my arms on my stomach and I wait for Remo to join me. I doubt he wants to sleep. He wants to distract me. Make me fall for his bullshit.

I won’t.

He opens the windows, letting fresh air in. He takes his time, but eventually, I feel his weight on the mattress. Tentatively, he takes his place next to me. He doesn’t leave as much space between us as I would’ve expected, and I interpret the move as a win.

Time’s running out. We should be in Los Angeles, catching Hugh Abbott.

But Remo’s been in a somber mood for some time now. We never looked close enough to perceive it, though.

We don’t speak. My eyelids are heavy, and although the bed is one of the worst I’ve ever wasted a breath on, my eyes drift shut. I trust the boy with my life. I wouldn’t ever trust another man enough to sleep next to him before Grey came to us.

Fuck. Grey. What if she is pregnant? It’s impossible, but what if? Those thoughts dull my senses, and I grow distant from reality.

It’s not a deep sleep. I’ve been resting with one eye open since birth.

When Remo sits up on the bed once he’s reassured himself that I’m asleep, I let him believe that. He fumbles with the nightstand. He murmurs words to himself.

I grow quiet, forgetting to breathe when he produces a bottle of pills. He’s focused intently on the pills, and he doesn’t notice that my breathing isn’t calm anymore. He’s lost in his thoughts.

“I’ll miss you,” I say, unable to hold it back. “Why?”

“What’s the point? She has you. She doesn’t need me. I let everyone down. It’s time to end this. You need to move on with your lives,” he mumbles, his entire body trembling.

I’ve been at the other side of worse weapons than a bottle of pills, yet I feel strangled by its presence.

“She needs all of us,” I remind him. I cautiously lift myself from the bed. My steps are slow and steady as I move in his direction. “We’re healing together, or whatever it is you young kids always say.”

I draw in a breath, crouching down by the bed. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Forever.”

“I don’t believe you. Forever? But what about Andre?” I ask.

He sucks in a deep breath. “He helped me feel better for a while, but this feeling is constant.”

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