I often wonder how he managed to love at all. It’s not like our parents were a shining example of a loving couple. No. All they ever taught us was to hate. Our father’s violent outbursts were a sudden realization for the both of us, but his verbal ones were the norm. We were groomed to know whatever we did would never be good enough in his eyes, and we had to feel his disappointment while mirroring it within ourselves.
Clenching my fists—both of them carefully buried in my jean pockets—I shrug and force a grin. “Seems that way.”
Laura smiles sadly. “Hey…” she murmurs while raising her hand and gently laying it on my shoulder, “… it’s not that bad you know?”
I sometimes forget she’s my closest friend. I can’t hide from her, she’ll always see beyond the facade. There’s a lack of mystery between us, but it’s the foundation of a great friendship. I know her honesty isn’t her downfall and, in turn, she’ll never face judgment from me. I love her, and that’s pure.
“I’ve never struggled,” I admit hanging my head. I can already see a future of ramen noodles, working in a dead-end job, and fitting in study wherever possible. Laura does it every damn day. Although since she and Tarrant have become an item, it’s been less of an issue. Still, she did it and managed, but I’m not as strong as she is.
“I’ll teach you,” she whispers. Lifting up onto the balls of her feet she wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. I crumble into her hold, clinging to her like she represents life itself.
“Am I good to take my girl back, brother?” Tarrant’s voice fills the quiet store, blocking out the tinny country tunes that quietly filter into the shoppers’ subconscious. I sigh, but not in frustration at his arrival. Since Laura entered our lives, it’s not only her and Tarrant who have changed. The relationship between my brother and me has changed too. We’re closer. More trusting of one another, and I can truly say I know now that Tarrant has my back. No, my sigh signals a growing envy I have. Not of him specifically, but more of the love they share. It’s something I want, a feeling I crave. Admitting who I really am, finally being real with those I love, sharing a secret that had tethered me for so long. It should be freeing, my life should be my own again. In being me, I’ve unwittingly set myself apart. I don’t feel free, just isolated. Letting go of my demons scared me. I didn’t bask in light, I created more demons. I don’t want to drown, but I can’t seem to stop myself sinking.
“Of course,” I reply, smirking like it’s all the same to me.
Tarrant narrows his eyes but holds in whatever’s working behind them. Turning Laura toward my twin, I take a second to absorb how different we are. Not just because we’re non-identical in appearance, but our personalities are a mismatch as well. We’re a world apart, our lives will never lead down the same path, and I don’t know if he’ll ever understand me. But I love him, and I love Laura, and they deserve the happiness they finally have.
Laura takes a few steps toward Tarrant before spinning back around and rushing me. Her scent returns before her arms do, but she grips tight and drags me down to her. “We’ll talk… Saturday night, you, me and Morgan. Okay?” she asks, but it’s not really a question.
Chuckling, I push her away gently. “Saturday.”
Tarrant gives me a chin lift as Laura makes her way over to him. I nod in return then twist on my heel and leave the store. Sliding into Betty—my truck—I smack my hand on the steering wheel twice. “Where to Betty?” I ask her. She remains silent, so I flick the ignition making her roar to life. Pumping the gas hard, I need an escape, no matter where to.
That journey. The one I never intended to take. The one that was never pre-planned. The one which would change my life… I don’t even remember it.
Betty rolls to a stop, almost like she knows exactly where the parking bumper is. I’ve been to this beach on more occasions than I’d like to admit over the last few months. Always looking at the ocean for answers that aren’t there, and always on my own. Well, except for Betty. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if my truck started speaking, just so she could question my life choices. Fuck knows I’ve been questioning them enough myself.
I climb out of the truck and pat her hood. “I know,” I sigh. “I’m lost, Betty, and you know it, too. Hopefully, we’re the only ones.” Speaking to my truck isn’t entirely unusual. Talking to it about my life is an all-time low. Pity party for one right here folks. Chuckling at my stupidity, I beep the locks and trudge through the deep sand until it flattens slightly as I near the water. There’s something calming about the sound of the ocean at this time of night. The dark sky only adds to the ambiance. Quiet, empty, peaceful… lonely.
My jean jacket is fleece lined, but the wind is picking up speed. Pulling a beanie from my pocket, I slip it over my head then draw the jacket around myself tightly before fastening a few buttons. I slip my hands into the front pockets of my jeans, hunch my shoulders forward and brace against the wind.
In the distance a bonfire roars, which isn’t an unusual sight. We’re at the beginning of summer, the days are hot but the nights can
