Page 61 of For You, Sir

“It’s not that simple,” I muttered.

Other people’s problems stemmed from bad luck and poor choices. But my avoidance of my family came from neglect and lack of compassion—all despicable traits in a partner.

“How am I supposed to help if you won’t even tell me what’s bothering you?” He sounded hurt for being excluded, but he wouldn’t feel that way if he knew me better. He’d fallen for me under false pretenses, after all.

Who did I think I was, warming his bed, accepting his love? Just how long did I think I could string him along by hiding who I really was?

I swerved the car off to the side of the road, threw the car in park, and tried to hold my breath steady. It was my fault for hiding the truth for so long.

“Fine!” I said, turning on him. “I’m a bad brother and a terrible son. Is that what you wanted to hear? My mom is dying of cancer and I’ve only visited her in the hospitalonce. She’s my mother, she’s sick, and I can’t even stand being around her.”

Sir blinked at me. I looked away.

“Mrs. Olsen gave me that money because she thinks I’m a good person, but it’s not true,” I said hoarsely. “I let my brother—mylittlebrother—take care of Mom, and I do fuck-all to help. ‘Cause Dad already drank himself to death. And it hurts too much to watch my brother and mom doing the same. So I just…” My tears slipped free.“I just left.”

I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand, avoiding Sir’s gaze, waiting for him to voice his disgust. It would be perfectly fair if he wanted to sever the fragile cord of our relationship. Any moment he would tell me to turn the car around, that he wanted nothing to do with me or my broken family, after all.

Instead, Sir unclicked his seat belt and leaned over, pulling me into a hug. I stiffened like stone in his arms, feeling low and unworthy.

“It’s okay, Jun.”

“Stop. No, it’s not.” I pulled away.

He let me go with a wounded expression. “Why?”

What kind of stupid question was that? Wasn’t he afraid of what my callousness meant for him as a partner?

“Because I’m a selfish asshole!” My fingernails dug into my palms. “I let my mom rot in a hospital. Whodoesthat?”

“I mean… what were you supposed to do?” he asked.

“I don’t know—I was supposed to stop it.” For all my effort and anguish over the years, I had never so much as put a dent in my family’s dysfunction. I kept every detail of my life under meticulous control, except the ones that mattered. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t help any of them.”

I stared down at the steering wheel. My whole body was numb, but anger and grief thrashed somewhere deep below the surface, like fish stirring beneath the crust of ice on a frozen lake.

“You’re not some heartless person,” Sir said. “From the first day we met, all you’ve done is care for me. Even when I was a stranger to you.”

I huffed a cynical laugh. “That’s what’s messed up. It’s easier for me to care for strangers than my own family. What’s wrong with me?”

“Most people don’t care about strangers at all, Jun.”

I shook my head.Stop making excuses.

“It was never your job to fix everything in the first place,” Sir said. “You know that, right?”

Damn it!My tears spilled over and I buried my face in my hands.But I want to! I want to save ‘em so bad…

It was like the rest of my family was drowning while I remained in a lifeboat. But every time I tried to pull them from the deadly waters, they’d slip through my fingers like mist. Unable to bear the sight of their suffering, I’d finally rowed away alone, corroding from the inside with survivor’s guilt.

Sir wrapped his arms around me again, and this time I didn’t protest. He pulled me close, and I buried my face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I didn’t even know to whom, or for what, but I was. I wanted to take it all back, to do it over again and make things right. If I just kept sacrificing, I knew I could make things better.

“You’re fine,” Einar said. “You’re doing enough.”

My heart caved in and I cried against his chest, my tears absorbing into the cotton of his shirt. He was so, so wrong, but I wanted him to be right. I prickled with contradictory emotions, irritable as a wet cat but longing for comfort. The silence grew uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Einar said gently. “I love the real Jun, you know. Not some idealized version of you.” He finally pulled back, clasping my hands. “Even the messy parts.”

“Okay.” I pulled a hand free to wipe at my eyes. When I glanced up again, he was looking at me with a mischievous smile.

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