My stomach turns to lead as I put the pieces of the puzzle together. “Devon didn’t come back inside.”
Lydia shakes her head and wipes away the tears as they fall. “Devon was obsessed with the stars. He would stare at them for hours. And he was drunk and not thinking right. He must have fallen or tripped or something. We’ll never really know what happened, but the next morning Aaron found him about fifty feet from the cabin, lying in the snow. It had been so cold.”
She doesn’t need to say more. He hadn’t survived, and Aaron had been the last person to see him alive and was the first person to realize he was gone. “I can’t even imagine how awful that was for all of you. I’m so, so sorry.” I would be devastated if something like that happened to Van or Bradley.
“It was hard on all of us, but I think Aaron has suffered the most. I had his dad to lean on, but Aaron shut himself off from everyone for a while. And his mother doesn’t know that he kept up the relationship with his dad and brother. He was living these two very separate lives. We didn’t blame him for what happened. If anything I should have made them come inside. I knew what they were like when they were having fun.” She wipes away another tear. “He blamed himself. He dropped out of college and moved back to Pearl Lake. I think he planned to cut himself out of our lives entirely, but I found out I was pregnant. I think Jamie gave him a piece of his brother to hold on to. He comes to see us every month.”
“And his mom still has no idea you’re part of his life,” I muse.
She shakes her head. “We’ve never pushed him to tell her, mostly because we’re worried that he’ll cut us off again, and I don’t want that to happen. He’s stuck between two different worlds.”
“He really is. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for him.” And now I understand so much better why he is the way he is. And why he reacted to me the way he did in the first place.
I don’t need complications in my life, and you’re becoming one.
Letting someone in meant giving me access to the pieces of himself that he’s kept hidden from everyone who thinks they know him. His life is truly divided into two distinct halves. I know only too well what it’s like to be pulled between two people you love, not wanting to hurt or disappoint either one. I’m caught between Van and Bradley the way Aaron seems to be caught between his mom and his family in Indiana.
I need to tread carefully with Aaron. And I also need to be prepared for him to shut me out after this weekend, because he’s letting me into his world, bit by bit, and for him that’s scary.
Lydia and I bring the snacks into the living room, where Aaron, his dad, and Jamie are busy putting together a LEGO creation.
One wall is covered in framed photos. There are pictures of Aaron and Devon everywhere. It’s easy to see that they’re brothers. They’re so similar that they could almost pass for fraternal twins. Their smiles are big and bright, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, their friendship clear in their stance. Lydia is often in the pictures as well, and if she isn’t, then Arnie is. It’s clear they have a close bond. They’re his second family.
How hard it must have been to gain a sibling so late in life, only to have him taken abruptly a few years later. It breaks my heart.
We spend the day with his dad, Lydia, and Jamie, and I get to see a very different side of Aaron. He’s a devoted uncle and a wonderful, caring son. His loyalty shines through, and still, I can feel the walls around him, the ones that I’m sure he’s built to protect himself from the guilt he carries with him.
CHAPTER 19
A LITTLE CLOSER
Aaron
Part of me regrets bringing Teagan to meet my family before she knows the truth about what happened to Devon. How he died. How it was my fault. I know what Lydia will tell her, and in some ways, it absolves me of the responsibility.
I know as soon as she walks into the living room that Lydia has filled in the gaps. The ones she can, anyway. I can see it in the soft way Teagan looks at me. But it’s not pity, not exactly. Which is good. I can’t deal with the pity.
I fucked up. And my fuckup cost us all my brother. I don’t deserve people’s sadness or their pity. What I do deserve are the nightmares I still have, and the constant reminder of what I had and so carelessly let slip through my fingers.