Playing (Inked Hearts 2)

Bree never was good with moderation.

I unpeel the envelope and pull out the card. There's a cartoon picture of two bears hugging—one is wearing a baseball cap, the other is wearing a tutu.

I know you're my brother…

But sometimes you're unBEARable.

Happy Birthday

Her neat handwriting is all over the bottom half of the card.

Happy Birthday, Walker. I know it's been a long time since I've been the older sister you deserve. I'm sorry I've been so "unBEARable." And sorry for the silly pun. It made me think of that trip we took to Big Bear, the one where Mom and Dad locked themselves in the cabin.

Love,

Bree

"There's something else." She unfurls her palms to show off a small, round token. "I know you think I'm not trying. But you're wrong." She holds out her hands.

It's her two-month chip.

"I'm going to meetings. And therapy. I want to be better. I want to feel like a real adult, and not some screwup who's still living with her parents when she's pushing thirty. I know I had those slip ups… I know I let you down. But I really am trying." She blinks back a tear. "I'm sorry. I didn't come here to—"

"No, it's okay." I pull my sister into a hug. Two months sober. Fuck, I can't believe it.

My shoulders feel lighter. My chest feels looser. Everything feels warmer. Brighter.

Maybe she's telling the truth.

Maybe this is going to be okay.

Maybe there's no dramatic left turn in Bree's story. Maybe rehab stint five was enough.

I stare back at my sister. "What changed?"

"Well." She bites her fingernail. "I guess I realized that you might forgive me one day."

Huh? "You thought I wouldn't?"

"Of course… And I'd understand. I deserved it. But when I saw you with Iris."

What the fuck? "What's she have to do with it?"

Bree's eyes fill with surprise. "She hasn't told you?"

"Hasn't told me what?"

"Oh. I… forget I said anything." She presses her lips together. "Please. Forget it."

"Forget what?"

She shakes her head. "I can tell I'm getting glares from your friends. I owe a lot of them apologies, but I'm not going to hijack your birthday—"

"Bree, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Iris."

"What about Iris?"