by Alyne Robers
I fight to stop myself from covering up. I remind myself that he's already seen it all. Plenty of strangers have as well, as I danced and stripped for a living.
Kane leaves me there, chilly and waiting. In the back of the room I notice the art supplies. Canvases, paint brushes, and paint line the back shelves. He grabs paints and a brush, dropping them at my feet. He keeps the white and the brush.
"I used to paint," he tells me as he pours the white paint on the sheet and swirls the brush in it. "I wasn't very good, but I found it therapeutic when I was going through a rough time."
"What was that?" I ask. "Tell me I'm not the only one who gets hurt."
"I loved a girl once. She was my high school girlfriend and we went to college together. I thought she was the one. That we would live happily ever after."
"I'm guessing that's not the case?"
"She cheated on me. For a year she was with someone else and I never knew it."
"Your line of work makes sense now," I muse. "And your cynical view on love."
"That was before you."
My heart pounds. This moment feels dangerous and heavy. Like it will be monumental in some way but I don't know how yet.
Kane puts the brush on my neck and drags it down my chest. I gasp in surprise.
"You want to know what I see in you, London? What drew me to you? What drew me to both of you?"
I nod silently because my throat is too tight to speak. He paints a white line down the middle of my body, dividing me in two.
"You saw two people. Opposites but bonded together." He mixes more colors.
"London. Blue for the calm and sensible." He paints blue down my left arm. "Yellow for your brightness and the way you always saw the beauty in everything."
He paints the colors on the left side of my body.
"Orange for the love of the sunrise. Pink for your sweetness and soft side."
The paint is thick and cold as he paints what he sees in London.
"Then there is red for your sister. Impulsive. Passionate. Reckless." He drags the red paint over my right arm. Goosebumps follow the bristles.
"Deep blue with confidence. Silver with her dark side."
I look down at myself. I'm split down the center. Each side of me color coded just as I do with everyone I meet. Tears form in my eyes at the painful visual demonstration. I see it in the most profound way. In colors.
"What's your favorite color?" I whisper.
We make eye contact and I stop breathing. I'm terrified of the answer. Does Kane have any idea what is left after you take away Brooklyn's colors? Does he still find it beautiful?
Did I lose some of my own colors in the fire?
"I'll show you."
Kane drops the brush and places a hand on each shoulder. His fingers glide down my arms, through the paint. Over my hips and over my ribs. They swirl the colors into a rainbow.
He blends the colors over my stomach and my chest. The red from the right now dances across my skin to the left. The blue reaches my right, making a purple in the center.
All the colors are mixed. Each side is a unique blend of all the colors. No side owns just one color.
"I like them all. You may think you're just one half left, but that's not true. I see a rainbow."
The tears fall down my cheeks and Kane wipes them away, smearing paint on my face from his fingers.
"I see sexy. Brilliant. Brave. Honest and loving. That was London who took me to the spot in the road while we waited for a car. The same girl who clawed at my back while I took her against the hotel window."
I shake my head, the tears blurring the colors on my body. They're so bright and vivid that I can't shut them out.
"You thought you were just one side but you are so much more, London. Don't start selling yourself short now."
Kane continues to mix paint on my body like I'm his canvas. He paints trails of bright paints over every inch of my body. Kneeling on the floor, he looks up at me.
"She's a part of you and always will be. Losing her changed you. We both know that. You may think you were trying to replace her, but you were really living for her. I see parts of her shining through you. You never were just a half. That's why I drawn to you both."
I look down at the art on my body. Brooklyn's passion mixed with my passion. My control mixed with her lack of control.
"My whole life was a balancing act. In order to be my own person, I have to be different."
"Remember that night on the road?" he asks. "I realized then you weren't who you pretended to be. You weren't the careful and sensible London you thought you were. You wanted to take a risk and be carefree. That was most real then. You didn't care about balancing or your differences. You were just you."
That memory is crystal clear in my mind. I supposed that was the one moment I was the closest to the real girl left behind in the ashes. The sister who wanted to be more like the other. The girl who didn't want to be defined by her differences anymore.
"That's why I fell in love with you. Because you were so much more than you thought. I loved the passion and the heart. The thoughtfulness and impulsiveness. You aren't black and white. You're a spectrum of colors."
I fall to my knees when they become too weak to hold my heavy heart any longer. Kane is there to catch me. Not caring that I'm ruining his leather jacket with the paint he decorated me with, he holds me while I cry. I feel exposed to Kane. He saw who I hid under the illusions even when I couldn't see it. He brought it out, nourished it, and blended it into my core.
"I don't know where to go from here."
"Wherever the fuck you want, sweetheart. Mourn your sister. I'll be right here while you do. Be yourself. Live life for yourself and your sister."
"What if you don't like who I really am? I don't even know who is left. I'm not a stripper or fearless. I'm not bold and sexy like she was."
"Yeah, you are. And you're more than that. So much more. I think you just need to see it like I always have."
A knock comes at the door. We turn to see my evening nurse.
"Ms. Gates, please clean up and return to your room," she says softly. Her eyes are warm when she looks to Kane. "And clean this up."
"Yes, ma'am," we answer at the same time.
I can't help but giggle when she finally leaves us alone.
"It's like the side of the road in the Jeep all over again," I say between laughs.
Kane and I slowly clean up the room and wipe the paint off each other. I feel lighter than when I came up the steps. A part of the haze has been cleared.
"Thank you," I whisper as Kane drops me off back at my room.
"I'm not giving up on you, London. I'm not walking away and I won't let you push me out."
"You might not be able to save me," I whisper.
"I don't need to. I'm not here to rescue you. Only you can do that."
His hands are in my hair and pulling my mouth to his. Our lips connect and I still feel the sparks. The heat and warmth travels through my body and reminds me that I'm alive and even though the past was a lie, it was also the truth.
THIRTY-ONE
London
"You sure you have permission?" Miles asks as we get into the Jeep.
"Can you turn up the radio?" I ask as I buckle in.
"You didn't answer the question," he points out.
"I don't like to lie."
Miles mutters under his breath but pulls out of the parking lot anyway. I'm bouncing in the passenger seat. I haven't been out of the hospital in the two months since I arrived. I need fresh air. I need some closure before I lose the chance.
In the last few weeks, I attended my sessions and saw therapists. Mrs. Walker suggested that I see one who specializes in twins and multiples. The relationship with Brooklyn is different than other sibling's relationships. I grieve differently. I feel like my doctors here don't understand how empty I feel without her.
I don't feel completely alone. I have Miles and Kane who visit almost every day
. We use the time to heal and get to know each other again, even though I'm not sure who I will be when I'm not locked away in my room.
"You sure you want to do this?" Miles asks when we pull up to a stop sign. It's the last stop sign before I would be home. If I want to turn around, I need to do it now.
"I'm sure."
Miles watches me for a moment before driving again. We are learning to trust each other again. No matter what has happened, he’s my best friend and the only person I want by my side today.
We pull down the gravel driveway and put the Jeep in park. The foundation remains but the rest of the rubble has been cleared. The yard has been tended to recently though. The grass is no longer knee-high. I can see the pond in the back of the yard and the tree house.
I climb out of the car and inhale deeply. It smells like summer and rain. It's both terrifying and comforting. I slowly walk the worn path to the tree house. It's been so long since I climbed this tree. I feel so much larger standing under it now.
I climb inside, hearing Miles following. The pillows are still here with the stacks of Cosmo and car magazines. The battery-operated radio sits in the center. It's almost as if we were here yesterday. For a second, I swear I can hear Brooklyn's laughter.
Miles hands me my camera. I didn't even notice he had with him. I sigh at the relief I feel with the weight of it in my hands. I click away, capturing the tiny space that once held three very big hearts. These four walls are thin, but they protected us.
I sit in my usual spot and so does Miles. His old guitar still sits in a corner. He used to play for us all the time. He practically taught himself to play in this treehouse. I look to the spot by the window where we had painted stripes of nail polish, fighting over who got which color. The glitter still sparkles in the sunlight. The heart Miles carved in the ceiling is there. I take a photo.
BG + LG + MF = 4EVER
Who knew forever was so short? We used to sit up here and talk about the future. Brooklyn thought we would travel. Miles dreamed of being on tour. I run my fingers over the grooves in the wood while tears roll down my cheeks. I gave up trying not to cry a long time ago. It felt better just letting it happen, like I was letting the poison seep out of me.
We sit there for a long time. Miles gently strums his guitar while I live in the memories. I focus on the good parts. The laughter. Telling ghost stories or teasing each other. We grew up together in every possible way, and this feels like a goodbye.
Miles sets down the guitar and gets on his hands and knees to crawl over to me. I get lost in the green of his eyes that remind me of the forest behind our house. I see the spark in them right before his lips touch mine.
Miles holds the back of my neck as he deepens the kiss. I place my hands on his chest, feeling his steady and quick heartbeat. His tongue touches mine and I taste him. It tastes familiar. Safe and loving. It feels like a betrayal to my sister.
Miles pulls back and rests his forehead on mine. His eyes are tightly shut so I have no idea what he's thinking. When he opens them, my heart breaks. He feels what I feel. We both know he didn't find what he was looking for in that kiss.
"I love you," he whispers.
"I love you, too." And I do. I can't even begin to imagine where I would be without Miles in my life. Maybe forever would have ended long ago.
"This will never change," he promises, pointing his finger between us. I nod in agreement. I won't ever be her, but I'm still London.
I want to love him the way he deserves to be. I wish I could fill his broken heart and make everything better. But I can't. Like me, he will always have a spot missing that Brooklyn used to own and forever will. That kind of forever will never end. Brooklyn and I shared everything, but we can't share his love.
"Let's get you back before they send security after us," he says.
I grab my camera and wait while he climbs down. I look around the treehouse one last time. One day, I will come back here and I hope it won't hurt so badly. I found a peace here that I haven't found in a long time but the wound from where my other half was ripped away is still raw.
Back on the ground, I reach for my camera. I take a selfie with Miles. Our smiles are sedated but still there. Our eyes hold sorrow but there's hope lingering behind it. Miles and I link arms and walk toward the Jeep, lost in our thoughts. I stop in my tracks when I find Kane leaning against the hood of the car.
I ache to run to him, to feel his arms around me. I want to feel his kiss and hear his deep voice whispering in my ear. I stand between two men who mean the world to me. Each one powerful in my existence that I can't give up. I feel comforted and loved in two very different ways. For the first time, I don't regret falling for them both. I couldn't do this without them both.
Miles pulls me to start walking again as Kane starts for us. We meet in the middle. Some weird triangle of love and pain. It feels almost like a ceremony when my hands are transferred to Kane's. Miles was giving me away like a father would. That second of time and small movement meant more than any amount of words.
Kane and I are left alone as Miles heads back to his house where I see his mom waiting on the porch. When they disappear inside, I look up at Kane.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I will be," I tell him. I look back up at the treehouse. "I just wanted to remember her again. The way we used to be."
"Did it hurt?"
"Yes. It probably always will."
He just nods and kisses my cheek. He never tells me it will all be okay because I will always miss her. He doesn't cheapen it by saying I will be back to normal soon. We both know I need to find a new normal. Kane starts to walk us toward the pond. The sky is darkening with gray clouds. I feel the cool moisture in the air.
"Rose found a great specialist in Montana," he says as we near the water.
"Rose? You call her by her first name?" I ask, surprised. We always called her Mrs. Walker.
"Well, I practically live with the woman. She's like my second mom," Kane says. The admiration for the woman is clear in his voice. "She thinks this new doctor would be the best for you."
I follow the path to a small alcove in the trees and sit on the moss to listen to the frogs. It was my lullaby for most of my life.
"Montana is cold," I say.
"I can keep you warm."
I look over at him, searching his face.
"If you let me, I would follow you anywhere you wanted to go, London. I thought I lost you once, and I can tell you, I don't want to ever feel that again."
Tears form in my eyes for the second time today but for a different reason. Kane kneels between my outstretched legs and cups my face. I can smell his soap and leather.
"I love you. I thought I would never let myself fall again, but I did, and I don't regret a second of it."
He kisses the tears rolling down my face.
"I want to kiss away ever tear. Fight off every nightmare. Hold you through every storm. Will you let me?"
A crack of lightning flashes above followed by the rumble of thunder.
"I would. Expect for one part."
"What's that?"
"I'm not scared of the storms anymore."
Kane's lips collide to mine. I fall to my back and wrap my arms around him. I used to worry that what I felt for him was also a lie, but I was so wrong. That may have been the only truth.
My heart races and my mind fogs over. All I feel is his mouth on me, not the rain drops falling on us. The warmth of his breath chases away the cold of the wind. The light in his eyes brightens the darkness that falls over us. Our love soothes the pain.
"I need you," I pant in his ear. My entire body is begging for his to connect with.
"Anything."
Kane pulls off my shorts quickly before pulling down his jeans. It's rushed and heated, driven by passion and desperation. I cry out as he pushes inside me but the heavy rain drowns it out. The water pours down around us but I don't feel it. I just feel him.
And that's the best feeli
ng of all.
THIRTY-TWO
Kane
One Year Later.
Montana is cold, but the mountain views make up for it. The early morning hikes have become one of our favorite things to do. London sees her therapist once a week, but I think most of the progress happens on those trials with me. I feel honored to be that person holding her hand, no matter how much it hurts sometimes to see her pain.
"Okay, I think I'm ready."
I turn from the window to see London coming from the bathroom. I notice how amazing her legs look in the short dress. Next is her cleavage and then her plump, red lips.
"Shit, London," I hiss, picking her up by her hips. "You look hot. I say we stay in tonight."
"Oh no way," she says between laughs. "I bought this dress for tonight, I'm going out in it."
"I think it would look better on the bedroom floor," I say on her ear, nipping her earlobe.
Her body shudders against mine and I reach for the zipper of her dress. London jumps away just in time.
"Tell you what," she teases while slowly backing away. "You can tear it off of me when we get home."
I growl but she turns and runs from the room. I chase after her, letting her get away on purpose. Tonight is important to her, so there's no way in hell I will ruin it.
When I catch up, London stands near the fireplace. I stand back and give her a moment as she stares up at the urn and her sister's photo. I never met Brooklyn, but I wished I had. If London loved her, I would have, too. I already do love her just because of what she did for London.
"I miss you," London whispers. "I'll have a Long Island for you tonight."
She turns to me and smiles. I see the pain there but her smile blinds it. She's healing but she will never escape the loss of her twin.
"She would be proud of you," I tell her, my own voice getting tight with emotion.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Because you lived. Just like she wanted you to."