That’s where I’m at right now. I could run away and be relatively happy living a lonely but straightforward existence where I don’t have to feel. I don’t have to think.
Or, I could keep fighting.
I push my legs harder and faster on my morning run because when I get in this thought loop, all I can do is try to make my brain shut up by confusing it with running like someone’s chasing me.
Which, technically, they are, because Law is struggling to keep time with me.
“Bad night?” he asks, his voice breathy from exertion.
It’s not that he’s unfit—he’s a martial arts instructor—it’s that we’ve been at this for over an hour already this morning, and I’m only going faster and faster even if my legs are threatening to fall out from beneath me.
I shrug. “It was fine.”
“I heard you up and about around three, so don’t lie.”
“That was Meatball. It’s her favourite time of the day.”
“Lie. Well, no, I’m learning that’s true, but I wasn’t hearing cat noises.”
“If you knew it was bad, why even ask?”
“To try to get you to talk about it?”
“Less talking. More running.”
“Anders!” Law’s tone makes me stop, because it’s his I’m not going to put up with your shit tone.
“What?”
Our chests heave, our scowls match, and I don’t want to hear what he has to say just as much as he doesn’t want to say it.
“Brody’s dad is not Brody.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I yell. “Don’t you think I’ve been telling myself that for the past ten days, twelve hours, and thirty-six minutes? Don’t you think if it was that simple, I wouldn’t be trying to exert all my nervous energy and heartbreak by running until my legs don’t work anymore?”
“So go and talk to him.”
“I can’t!”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s the reminder my life is never going to be easy. It can be great one minute and falling apart the next, and how am I supposed to look at him knowing who his father is? You say they’re separate and different and one doesn’t correlate to the other, but it does. Brody is exactly like his dad. He’ll come home every night, tired from a case, and all I will be able to wonder is who his client is this time. Someone like Kyle? Someone worse?”
“You didn’t have a problem with that before you knew who his dad was.”
“Because I tried to separate lawyer Brody from my Brody. Now they’re all muddled, and I can’t … I just … can’t.” My legs finally give out, and I fall to my knees.
My back muscles ache, and my chest constricts as I fight tears.
Of course, my brother is by my side in an instant, helping me off the middle of the path so other runners can go by us. He gets me to the grass so I can sit and take a breath.
“I do understand where you’re coming from,” Law says gently. “I really do. But—”
“No. No buts. If you truly understood, you wouldn’t be butting me right now.”
Law bites his lip to try to stop himself from laughing. I glare at him, and he throws his arms up. “It’s not my fault you said butting in a serious conversation.”
“Real mature.”
“Here’s the but: you haven’t even seen Brody since. How do you know that’s how you’re going to feel when you’re around him?”
“Because it’s how I feel when I so much as think about him. Which is all the fucking time.”
“You love him?”
“How can I love someone when I’m incapable of it?”
Law’s hand lands on my shoulder. “You’re not incapable of it. You’re under the impression you’re incapable of letting go. There’s a big difference there.”
Deep down, I know he’s right, but my unwillingness to accept it is stronger right now. “If I was ever going to fall in love with someone again, it’d be Brody.”
“Then you owe it to both of you to try. Just see him.”
I shake my head. “If I see him, and I do have a panic attack, then that’s it. It’s definitely over. If I stay away and avoid seeing him, I’m able to hold on to the tiny bit of hope that’s still niggling at me. I don’t want to lose that.”
Law rubs his temples. “Let me get this straight. You would rather be miserable with a tiny bit of hope than take your one chance at happiness.”
“Yes. Because losing him completely would destroy me.”
Law mumbles something under his breath. I think it’s “Not in love with him my ass.”
No way I’m not going to call him out. “What was that?”
He does that Law thing where he lies. Badly. “I said that’s some seriously fucked-up Schrodinger crap.” It’s not what he said, but it’s still accurate.
“Welcome to my brain.”
Law sighs in resignation. I’ve won this round, but I know he won’t give up.