But the moment passes.
If I couldn’t say it earlier, now the statement becomes an impossibility.
For the rest of dinner we talk about anything and everything. Olive tells me about how Owen is doing in recovery and how excited she is to see him get stronger with each day.
I smile and act excited all the while hoping that she doesn’t see my disappointment.
I’m not disappointed with Owen. I am happy for him and I am glad that Olive is no longer worried about him.
What I am is disappointed in myself. Even though we are having this nice dinner and everything is pleasant, there still seems to be a river rushing between us.
There are all of these things left unsaid.
All of these things that we haven’t talked about.
And the longer we don’t talk about the real things, the bigger the river gets.
When Olive helps me clear the table, I lean over and kiss her. She’s surprised at first and pulls away, but only briefly.
My fingers run down her body as she buries her hands in my hair. Pushing her against the wall, I press myself against hers.
Our mouths find each other and our tongues intertwine.
We don’t bother to take off most of our clothes.
Our movements are hurried and out of control.
We need to be together as quickly as possible. Unlike before when we took our time and paced ourselves, this time we don’t.
Her legs open for me as she presses her face toward the wall and props up her butt.
I cup it only for a second before sliding inside.
Her moans become my moans.
We move in unison, riding the same wave.
I hear her getting close and try to last a little bit longer.
When she yells my name, I finally let myself go.
11
Olive
When he comes home…
I don’t know what’s different between Nicholas and I but something is very…uneven.
I care about him. A lot.
I even love him, but ever since Owen woke up, everything feels forced.
No, if I were telling the truth, things have felt off since Owen was in the hospital.
It’s almost as if there’s some sort of disconnect between us.
I thought that maybe tonight it would finally go away. He made me this wonderful dinner.
I was so happy to be home and all I wanted to do was celebrate.
We had this moment when I thought that Nicholas would take me into his arms and finally tell me that he’s in love with me.
That would make things not feel so off.
But instead, he just…let it go.
Maybe I should’ve said it first.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been such a wimp. But I got scared.
What if he doesn’t love me? What if me saying it would just make things even worse between us?
And then when he kissed me, I kissed him back.
I wanted him.
I wanted to feel his body next to mine, on top of mine, inside of mine.
But having sex just cast a spotlight on everything that is wrong between us.
Whatever is going on, I have to put it out of my mind.
At least for now.
Owen is coming home this afternoon. The living situation here is getting a bit cramped so Nicholas is getting a hotel.
Owen offered to stay at our mom’s but that is out of the question.
She didn’t bother to come see him much in the hospital and knowing her, he would be there taking care of her more than she would him.
No, staying here is the best choice.
I will just sleep on the couch and he can have my room. Luckily, Sydney and James are okay with it for now.
Owen comes home later that afternoon. He manages to walk inside without using the wheelchair that the hospital insisted that he take, but he does collapse onto the couch soon after.
The doctors warned him that he will feel incredibly tired for days or even weeks to come and that we should expect that.
I take a seat next to him and put his hand into mine.
I’m glad that he’s here. Somewhere safe.
Later that evening, that general feeling that everything is safe wears off.
We talk about everything and nothing at all and have a nice dinner, but dark thoughts start to haunt me.
“Are you okay?” Owen asks, spreading out on the couch.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I lie.
When he asks me again, I lie again. But he doesn’t let it go.
“People are still after you,” I finally cave.
He shrugs.
“They tried to kill you once, they’re probably going to do it again.”
He shrugs again.
“Don’t you care?”
“Yes, I do, but I’m not sure what exactly I can do about it.”
I admit that I don’t either.
We sit for a while, nursing our drinks and thinking all of the bad things that we are too afraid to say out loud.
There’s something else, of course. His physical safety is not the only thing on my mind.
“You’re not my brother,” I say.
The words slip out of me before I can catch myself. Owen stares at me for a long time before saying anything.
“No, I’m not.”
I wait for him to ask me how I know, but he doesn’t.
He just repeats that he’s not my brother, as a matter of fact. As if it’s something that we have both known for a very long time.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.
“I couldn’t find a good time.”
“How about when you wrote me all of those letters? During all of those years?”
He takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly as if he were exhaling a cigarette.
He raises his shoulders and lets them down gently.
“Tell me the truth,” I demand. “Don’t lie to me.”
There’s another deep breath.
Then, there’s another deep exhalation.
I wait.
“I didn’t want anything between us to change. You were there for me and you were the only family I had. I didn’t want our DNA to change that.”
“So, you were just…using me?” I ask.
“No, not at all. I love you, Olive.”
The words send shivers down my spine.
I stare into his eyes. His irises are dark and full of depth.
He blinks and I see the glimpse of the sorrow.
I don’t know what he means by that.
Does he love me like a sister? Or does he love me as more than that? He doesn’t elaborate and I don’t dare to ask.
“I wrote you all of those letters because you were the only person there for me, Olive. I wanted to know about your life. I wanted to tell you about mine,” he says.
The words are difficult for him to say and his voice cracks throughout.
“You are my family no matter what,” he adds. “I don’t care that we’re not actually biologically related.”
I nod. Tears start to well up in the bottom of my eyes.
“I don’t care either,” I say with a sob. “I love you, too, Owen.”
I have waited for so long for him to get out and then for so long for him to wake up.
It feels like a big portion of my life has revolved around waiting. And now that he’s here…I’m afraid that I might lose him forever.
We hold each other for a while without saying a word. It feels good to be held by him. There isn’t anything romantic or sexual about it. He’s just my brother and nothing is going to change that.