Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
“There were so many times when I wanted to retaliate; when I wanted to just shut you up; when I wanted to make you stop; when I just wanted to… show you who I was, what kind of a danger you’re in. Sarah Ann?” I look at him pointedly. “I don’t even remember her face now but I remember how it made me feel when you showed up with her at the house. I had to leave the room. I had to leave the house. So I didn’t punch you in the face. So I didn’t break your bones. So I didn’t do…” I take a deep breath. “What I did last night.”
A force grips my throat but somehow I keep talking, “So I always thought it was for the best. Keeping my distance from you. I always thought it was the only way to keep myself under control. To keep myself contained. And I know you hate me for that. You’ve always hated me for it. For being aloof and cold and… I don’t blame you. I never blamed you. It’s not your fault the way I am.”
I grit my teeth against the pain of my words. “People say that a twin is supposed to be your counterpart. A twin is supposed to be the closest to you, but you got stuck with me. That’s what you always say. It’s true. You got stuck with a twin with issues. Who was so wrapped up in his own shit that he could never be there for you. I could never be your brother. I didn’t know how to be your brother because I’m a fucking time bomb. Who could explode any second. Who did explode on you last night. And… I know it’s not enough, nothing could ever be enough but I’m so fucking sorry about that, Shepard. I’m so fucking sorry for who I am. For the way that I am. I’m so fucking sorry for a lifetime of mistakes with you. A lifetime of being a shitty brother. I’m just so fucking sorry.”
My chest feels heavy.
Tight.
As if a crushing force is sitting on it.
I’ve always known that I’m the worst brother a person could ask for. But after last night I think I became worse than the worst. Because in exchange of what he did, the only thing I had to give him was a beating.
And what he did was… help me.
With his lies, his deception about the fake engagement.
I hadn’t been able to focus on it when I’d just found out last night because so many other things were happening but I thought about it a lot at the police station while they were questioning me and when my twin brother wouldn’t press charges.
Despite our differences, our animosity, he tried to make me see the light.
Maybe he didn’t do it for me or maybe his method was not all that honorable. But it was still very much him and I… I’ve spent so much time trying to run away from him, trying to be so careful and cautious around him, trying to keep my distance that I never got to appreciate who he is as a person.
Yes, he’s a prankster. Yes, he’s cocky and irreverent and arrogant. And yes, he’s completely opposite of me.
But he’s loyal.
He’s generous. He’s pure-hearted.
He doesn’t have secrets like I do.
I mean I always knew he was a better man than me but after last night, he has only grown in my eyes.
“Why did you blow up on me last night?” he asks, breaking into my thoughts. “You already knew the engagement was fake. You knew I wasn’t doing what you thought I was doing. So why did you beat me up?”
I didn’t know it was possible for my chest to feel even tighter but it does. “For her.”
“For her,” he repeats with a knowing look in his eyes as if he already figured.
“To show her.”
“Show her what?”
Again I think he knows the answer; it’s on his face but I still tell him, “The kind of man I am. The kind of man she loves.”
And I don’t regret that.
I thought the day I broke my promise, I’d probably also end myself.
I thought if I ever—ever—raised a hand on my family, siblings, Shepard, I’d cut these hands off. I’d break them. I’d break every bone in my body myself.
I would choke on regret.
And while I hate that I beat up my brother, I can’t regret why I did it.
I did it for her.
I broke my promise for her.
If I was ever going to break it and become the man that I never wanted to be, doing that for her seems like poetic justice.
It seems… right.
Just like everything else with her.
“Like the piece of shit who made us,” he finishes for me.
I clench my fists. “Yes.” Then, I widen my stance and take a deep breath and say, “And so I’m here to ask you a favor.”