Page 105 of The Twins

Remo does his magic tricks for us to get ahead.

And the bosses don’t care because Remo doesn’t risk. He does as told because he loves being the good guy. He breaks the law, but he does it for the law. It’s a contradiction only he understands.

Charles and Remo leave home at the most unusual hours for the longest periods.

When I woke up this morning, I was convinced that Remo had woken up a little earlier than usual, gone to work as always.

Remo’s eyes are puffy, an unhealthy red. The bags under his eyes tell me that he hasn’t slept in a while. He’s been crying, and it stings me, although his tears have dried. His shoulders are slumped. Charles sits next to him, his hand on said slumped shoulders. He talks to Remo in whispers only they can hear, and I want nothing more than to be a fly on the wall for their conversation.

There’s that question again, the one I never dare to ask.

Why are you sad? What can I do to make you feel better?

“I’m bisexual,” Remo blurts out.

“You’re bisexual?!” Vegas asks.

“Yes,” Remo admits. His shoulders relax, and he meets his brother’s eyes. They exchange a soundless understanding, one that brightens my soul.

“Do you feel any different?” Charles asks. I told you so. He cheers from inside. His smug face is filled with pride.

“No, I don’t,” Remo replies. His eyes drift to me. He holds his hand out for me to take it, and I grab it, jumping on the opportunity to enter his private space. To feel him close.

“Why were you crying?” I ask. I don’t understand. Whatever he says, I’ll love him. I’ve endured far too much to be intimidated by his sexual preferences.

“I have issues, and I need all the help I can get. I don’t feel well, and it’s been that way since I was a teenage boy. What happened overseas multiplied my bad thoughts. It underlines the bad parts in my mental state, making it that much harder to focus on the good stuff. I’ve hurt people, and I don’t believe that I deserve this second chance at life. I don’t. But since I’m here, I have to make the most of my second chance,” Remo reveals. I give him space because I don’t know what sets him off. He’s mentally compromised, and my personal experience tells me that we have to tread carefully.

“He wanted to end his life earlier this morning,” Charles confesses, and I wince.

Stepping back, I squeeze my eyes shut. I won’t cry. Remo needs help and knowing what I know, pathetically crying over the fact that he attempted suicide won’t help.

“I’m sorry,” Remo says, addressing me.

“What about Vegas?” I croak.

“He’s hurt. This is about him, not his family, not his partner. Remo’s hurt, and he wants to be heard,” Charles clarifies, his voice a confident stride. “He wants to be seen, and we’ll help him with that. Agreed?”

I nod. “Of course.”

“Thank you for sharing this with us,” I tell him, kissing his face, his hair, his ears. I can’t get enough of him, and his light chuckle in response fills my heart with warmth.

“There’s more,” Remo admits. My eyes drift over the framed pictures decorating our living room, and I ache for him. He didn’t trust us. I wouldn’t shun or ridicule him for his preferences.

I can’t blame him for keeping secrets. After all, I do, too.

I don’t remove myself from his body. I need him close. I lean into his touch, his smell. I nudge my head to his chest.

While Carey saunters to the kitchen to get herself a drink, Remo opens up to us. “I never felt like people loved me unconditionally….”

* * *

By the endof Remo’s truth, I break my promise of no tears.

“Can you please stop upsetting her?” Carey comments. She sips on her cup of iced water as she narrows her eyes at my men.

“Yes. No more tears,” Vegas says, but he sounds unlike himself. His voice is raw with guilt, an unusual sentiment for Vegas.

“She said you’re pregnant.” Remo gestures at Carey, who sips on her iced water. “Is it true?”

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