by Coralee June
I wanted to tell Lance that I would have happily given my career up for Blakely. The risk was worth the reward. “I know, Lance. I know.” Blakely sniffled, and I wished I could open my eyes and reach up to wipe the tears I knew were streaming from her cheeks.
“And what about me, huh? He’s my best friend. Isn’t there some sibling code we’re supposed to stick to? You can’t be serious!” I heard a crash as if something was thrown on the ground. Blakely flinched beside me and removed her hand from my arm. Fuck. I tried harder to move. I commanded my legs to lift up, but couldn’t tell if it was actually working. “I can’t believe I was so fucking stupid!” Lance roared. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You seduced him, and now look!”
Though I couldn’t see, I could still feel their heavy stares on my body, lingering on the throbbing pain in my side. “I know, Lance. I’m so sorry. I never meant—”
“Never meant to hurt him? Never meant to drag him into your problems? Never meant for him to get shot trying to protect you? What were you thinking, Blakely?”
The room went silent for a moment, and I tried to open my mouth to speak. My body was a traitorous bastard, letting me down when my girl needed me most. Once again, I tried to make a sound, do something, say anything. Nothing worked. My body felt like a stranger, with my soul just occupying it. “It’s all so ironic,” Lance then said. “I mean, truly. The night before you arrived, Decker warned me about you.”
I could hear the beeps growing faster, mimicking the racing of my heart. “What?” Blakely asked.
“Yep. We knew about your mother, and he warned me. He warned me!” Lance was yelling now. I wanted to stop this. Blakely didn’t need to know about my jaded assumptions. Fuck!
I could still remember the night before Blakely arrived. I’d told Lance he was making a colossal mistake. I told him that this was yet another person that would come in with the intent of filling the void in his heart but would just steal more from him in the process.
“What did he say?” Blakely asked while pulling away from me. The moment her citrus scent left, I whimpered like a fucking pussy. I needed her near. I needed to squeeze her hand reassuringly.
“Decker told me it would be a giant mistake to let you live with us. He said you were probably just as bad—if not worse—than our mom, and that we would be better off without you. I hate to admit it, but he was right. Look at where Decker is right now! You almost got him killed. You almost lost him his job!”
There was a long, drawn-out silence. A war was raging in my chest. The old me was wrong, so, so terribly wrong. Blakely was selfless and kind. Compassionate. Smart. She fought to separate from her mother, and I hated that Lance was preying on her most profound insecurities. “You’re right,” Blakely finally whispered.
“I love him, Blakely. I love him more than anyone in this world. You almost took that from me, and I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that,” Lance choked out. I felt his hand clasp around mine as he sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, Lance. I never—”
“Just go. Please, just go.”
The moment I had control of my body again, I spoke the three words that had been tormenting me. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. I wasn’t sure where I was. Phrases like nasogastric tubes, endoscopies, and kidney functions flurried around the hospital room as I rested, but I didn’t know how bad it was. I only knew how I felt. I only knew that my body seemed heavy and weak.
“Where is Blakely?” I asked. My throat was on fire.
“Decker, you need to take it easy, okay?” Lance replied. My vision was blurred, but I could see the outline of his blond hair and the thick reading glasses he wore when he was too lazy to put on his contacts.
“Where is Blakely?” I asked again, making Lance curse. I blinked once, twice, and by the third blink, I could clearly see my best friend. Lance looked awful. His hair was greasy like he hadn’t showered in days. The wrinkled shirt he was wearing was stained, and I could clearly see his chapped lips and the dark circles under his eyes.
“She’s gone,” Lance replied darkly. “Let me call the nurse.”
“Don’t. Don’t call anyone. Where is Blakely, Lance?” My best friend squeezed my hand and bent over my body, saturating my hospital gown with his sobs. I patted his head, realizing that my one-track mind was probably insulting. He’d obviously been worried about me, and I was a dick. “Hey, I’m okay,” I offered lamely, though my voice sounded strained.
“I was so fucking worried about you,” Lance replied while clutching me tighter, it was like he couldn’t believe I was still there with him. “It’s always been us. Why didn’t you wait for me? Why did you do such a stupid thing?”
“We didn’t have a choice, Lance. Where the fuck is Blakely?”
“I don’t know!” Lance roared in response. “I sent her away. She could have gotten you killed, Decker. You warned me that she was trouble, and you were right. I should have never brought her into our lives. I should have noticed.”
Lance stood up and furiously wiped at his eyes while pacing the room. He was reverberating with pain and anger, but I didn’t know what to do. Blakely didn’t deserve all the blame though.
Lance sobbed even harder as he stared at me, his blue eyes red and drenched with pain. We had a silent stare off for a moment, and I watched with dread. Fuck. This was it, the moment I’d feared. The secret we’d been ignoring would finally be out in the open.
“I love her, Lance,” I whispered.
Lance shook his head. “Please stop talking. You’re in a fucking hospital bed with a gunshot wound. Your mother is downstairs drinking vodka from a coffee cup.”
“I love her, Lance,” I said again, this time more confidently. Lance ran a hand through his hair in agitation. He was still avoiding the truth.
“You’ve had three surgeries over the last week,” he added, his resolve crumbling.
“I love your sister, Lance. I love Blakely.” My words were like a whip against his expression, turning his sadness into anger.
Lance paused in his pacing to turn and look at me. I felt every fear. I felt his determination. I felt the secret between us burst wide open in a split decision.
Lance stalked over to me and grabbed my cheeks. At first, I thought he was going to admit the fear I’d been harboring, but instead, his rough lips connected with mine. Shock hit my senses, making it impossible to move. A part of me knew this needed to happen. I knew we’d never work through our issues unless I gave him this moment. He didn’t seem to care about my morning breath or my lack of enthusiasm against his sweeping tongue. He kissed me like it was a long exhale he’d been holding in his chest.
But it felt wrong, so wrong. He was my brother. My soulmate—but not my lover.
His teeth sunk into my bottom lip, tugging at mine in desperation. He licked at the seam of my mouth, his tears saturating my skin. I shoved at his chest, pushing him away. I couldn’t do this to him. I couldn’t lead him on. This was never going to happen. “I fell in love with Bl—”
“Don’t you fucking say it. Don’t finish that sentence,” Lance begged.
“I love her, Lance,” I whispered, though the various instruments I was hooked up to beeped violently. “I love her. I fell into a deep, irreversible, demanding love with your sister, and there’s no going back. I love her brain. Her heart. Her soul. I love how she speaks. I love how she makes me a better man. I loved saving her, and I’d do it again. Even if it landed me in the hospital. Even if it killed me. I love Blakely Stewart, Lance.”
Lance fell in love with me a long while ago. It was why I couldn’t tell him about Blakely. It was why this entire thing was more fucked up than I could ever admit to. I was my best friend’s darkest secret, and I entertained the limbo between us because, in a way, I loved him too. But I could never love him the way he wanted me to. “It’s always been you, Decker,” he sobbed. “I’ve always loved you.”
I reached up to tenderly wipe the tears from his face. “Lance,”
I began as moisture began to fill my own eyes. This was what I feared most. This was why I couldn’t say anything and why I turned away relationships. It was why I was so hellbent on keeping Blakely a secret. It killed me to destroy Lance, and I knew that after this, we would never be the same. I just hoped we could find a new normal in all the pain.
“I’m so sorry. You’ve always been in my life. You’ve always been like a brother to me, but I’ve known. I’ve always known. I just never wanted to talk about it because you’ve never brought it up. I was scared that things would change if I admitted I could never love you the way you want me to love you—the way you deserve to be loved. You’re family, Lance. We have a bond that is more precious to me than anything in this world, but it will never be the romantic love you crave, and I’m so sorry about that.”
Lance grabbed a tissue and blew his nose, his eyes squinting in pain as more tears fell. “I know. It’s not fair,” he croaked. “I’m putting you in this impossible situation, but I tried. I tried not to love you. You made it so damn hard,” he added with a light chuckle. “Even with your fucking morning breath and greasy hair, I’ll probably think of that kiss for the rest of my life.”
I chuckled. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”
“Probably a mixture of both,” Lance replied with a shrug.
We sat in silence for a while, holding each other’s hands and staring at one another. I took in the curve of his nose, his high cheekbones, and the way his eyes appraised me back. I treasured Lance. He was bright and beautiful, and his optimism tore me from some of the darkest moments of my life. “You have to let me go, Lance. I can’t stand the idea of not having you in my life, but if you need space to work through this, I’ll understand.”
“I don’t know what I need, but maybe you’re right. I need time to process it all. I’ve never had the chance to properly let go because you’ve always been there. No one ever compared. No one else ever mattered. Sean and I broke up because he wanted me to end my friendship with you. He was jealous.” I nodded, already knowing that was the case. It’s what happened with most of his relationships. “I just kept hoping, and when you got hurt, it nearly killed me.”
“I’m so sorry, Lance. I can’t say it enough,” I replied. Each tear that slipped from his eyes felt like another bullet to the gut. My heart hurt for him. For us. For Blakely.
“I knew I loved you the day I tackled that woman with the gun. I knew that I’d rather die than imagine a world without you,” Lance observed. “And now look at us. You’re diving in front of bullets for someone else.”
The power of his words settled between us. I loved Blakely like he loved me. It was a painful realization that would change us forever. I wanted to ask about Blakely, demand he tell me where she was. But my friend needed me, so for now, I’d swallow my burning desire to be near her. For now, I’d love my best friend.
For now, we’d heal.
35
Blakely
I buried my father on a Thursday. It was hot for fall in Texas, and the sun shined brightly for such a gloomy occasion. It was the second funeral I’d ever attended in my life. My fourth-grade teacher showed up for the service and asked how living in Memphis was. I lied and told her it was wonderful, though I was currently staying in a seedy motel outside of town.
I wore a white sundress. Dad would have loved it.
Frank Stewart must have taken my lungs with him to heaven, because I found it was impossible to breathe. Unlike at Mama’s funeral, I sobbed uncontrollably and without internal conflict. I let my mourning slip from my eyes as they lowered him into the ground. The preacher didn’t know Dad but spouted universal truths. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
Death. It all revolved around death.
It wasn’t until the preacher was walking toward his Honda that I realized it was over. I sat in the grass and ate the sandwich I packed, chatting with Dad like this was a regular occurrence. I buried him on the opposite side of the cemetery from Mama, but I felt her presence there too. “I’m mad at you, old man. We were supposed to get our fresh start,” I said before taking a bite of my sandwich and swallowing. I’d never felt so alone in my life, but sitting here, talking to a cheap tombstone seemed to soften the blow to my heart.
“I tried. I really did,” I whispered. “I know you did too. I hate that it happened like this. I hate that I couldn’t save you. I hate that you needed saving, but I’m going to be okay, Dad.” I didn’t actually know if I was going to be okay. I had no home. No plan. No car. The money Decker sent me sat stagnant in my account. I used some of it for Dad’s funeral while telling myself I’d pay him back. I felt cheap and like the leech he’d accused me of being the first day we met, but I didn’t have many options.
I looked at the bottle of whiskey I’d brought and took a small sip. It burned all the way down in a way I didn’t like. It would’ve been too cliche to get drunk at a cemetery, so I poured it out on the grass and hugged my knees to my chest. I talked to Dad for what felt like hours. “You took my lungs, old man.” My chest constricted with lamentation.
“Remember that guy I told you about? I fell in love with him. I fell in love, and it almost killed him. It makes me sick.”
“Love is a cruel bitch, huh?” a dark voice said at my back. I turned around with my mouth gaping open, shocked to see Lance standing there. “Can I join you?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered. The last time I’d seen Lance, he blamed me for Decker, and he had every right to. He settled in the grass beside me in silence. It seemed that neither of us knew what to say, though I was thankful for his company. I wasn’t sure I deserved it.
“I fell in love with Decker ten years ago. I never told him, but of course, he knew. Decker has this way of figuring people out.”
I nodded. I’d realized when I’d left the hospital that there was more than just betrayal buried in Lance’s hurt. He was devastated. At first, I’d convinced myself that Decker didn’t know. But I couldn’t find comfort in that lie. There was a reason Decker clung to our secret so fiercely. It wasn’t about betraying a friend, it was about breaking a heart.
“I never would have. If I’d known…” I began.
“I didn’t want anyone to know. No one wants to be the guy in love with his best friend. I tried convincing myself I’d get over him and filled my heart up with others so I could move on. But I never let go.”
I reached out to grab Lance’s hand. “He has that sort of effect on people, huh?” I asked. ”
“I’ve always loved souls. Been attracted to the way a heart beats more than the gender of a person. Men. Women. I’ve dated a lot. And Decker Harris has a beautiful soul, though I think you already know that.”
I nodded. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”
“I did hate you,” Lance immediately replied. I nearly choked on the bile rising up my throat. His words were painful to swallow. “But not anymore. I can’t blame you for loving someone I can’t seem to fall out of love with. And I created this secret. I should have told Decker ages ago what I was feeling so we could work through it, but I didn’t. He was trying to protect me in his own way. Decker is always trying to protect the people he cares about.”
Soft tears slipped down my cheeks as I leaned to rest my head on Lance’s shoulder. “I’m going to stay here for a bit and figure my life out. I’d really like to give us another chance. I know it won’t ever be the sort of relationship we wanted, but I hope we can find a happy medium that works for both of us.”
“I don’t want that, Blakely,” he whispered. My heart broke, but I understood it. I didn’t want to be the source of his pain. I said in the beginning that I wouldn’t force him to be in a relationship with me. Pain was more effective than blood in determining who we let into our lives.
“I understand,” I choked out.
“No,” he began while turning to look at me. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t want you here. I want you back in Memphis. I want us all to work
through this and get to a place where it doesn’t hurt. I want to ask your forgiveness and move forward. You aren’t like our mother, Blakely. You’re so much more.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck for a bone-crushing hug. I couldn’t even articulate how thankful I was to hear him say that. “I’d love that so much. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know things are strained with Decker, and you don’t need my blessing, but I want to give it to you anyway. I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to love someone, and I think his happiness means more to me than anything else. You make him happy, Blakely. I love him enough to accept that. I just need a little time.”
“I don’t think Decker and I can ever get back to what we were. I always knew our time was fleeting. I’m toxic, Lance. I need to figure my life out before I do anything else.” Lance stared at me for a lingering moment, then stood, stretching out his hand to help me up. I readily took it, and he guided me through the various tombstones to Mama’s plot. Once in front of it, I felt a gnawing sort of agitation pop in my chest.
“Tell me something about her, Blakely. Don’t hold back.”
“She drank way too much,” I sobbed.
“Tell me more,” Lance demanded.
“She would bring men home. Some of them hurt me.”
“More.”
“She never wanted to be a mom. She was selfish. She only cared about herself.”
“Keep going,” Lance ordered.
I felt anger rising like a tidal wave of pain through my soul. I felt every distrust, every disappointment flood through me, leaking through my eyes and pounding through my clenched fists. “When she was sick, I felt wrong for hating her. I felt wrong for looking forward to being free.”
“You’re free, Blakely,” he whispered.
“I used to pray that I could leave her and this fucking town behind to start over, and then she died, and I felt like it was my fault. And then I felt like the worst human ever for not crying or grieving her like I should. She used to ask me if I’d miss her when she was gone, like wringing out my misery would somehow make death more palatable for her. And I lied. I told her I’d miss her, but I don’t. I don’t at all.”