Say You Swear

His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared. He bends, scooping me up off the floor. When he speaks, his voice cracks, “Come here, little sister.”

He lowers me to my mattress, and Cameron quickly tosses a blanket over me, dragging the towel off me from under it.

Tears roll down my face, soaking the pillow beneath me. “I can’t do this, Mason.”

My brother’s grip on my hand tightens. He holds my gaze a long moment, his chest inflating with his full breath. He licks his lips, but he doesn’t speak until my lips pull into a small, encouraging smile.

Nerves have him fidgeting, but then he sets his shoulders straight, his eyes trained on mine.

“I know you’re confused and heartbroken in ways I can’t even imagine, but I need you to know something, something I’m dead fucking afraid to say, but that needs saying regardless.” He shifts on his knees, his free hand clasping over our joined ones. “I need you to know that as much as you’re hurting right now, as much as you’ve been, that there is a man out there who is hurting just as fucking much, with every breath he takes.” I suck in a choppy breath, and my brother’s eyes gloss over. “And not for himself, but for you.” His attention falls to my stomach. “For both of you.”

My lips tremble. “There is?”

“Yeah, baby sister.” He blinks, moisture shining along his lash line. “There is.”

My eyes squeeze shut and I nod. Slowly, he leans forward, kissing my temple before he releases me and falls against the wall at his back.

Cameron crawls into bed beside me, facing me on top of the covers.

Slowly, my breathing settles, and a soft smile pulls at her lips.

Tears fall from Cameron’s eyes, and when I reach up, wiping them away, she chuckles.

My eyes close, and a little while later, the sound of my door opening and closing has me stirring. My brother is gone, but Cameron is sound asleep in front of me. Whispers from the hall reach my ears.

“Tell me she’s okay.”

“She’s not. She’s pushing it all away. She’s going to break.”

“I’m going in.”

“I don’t think it’s the best time for that.”

“She’s mine, Mason. I should be the one to hold her. To remind her that she’s stronger than she knows.”

I drift off again, my dream full of a flashing color.

Of blue.

Of a bottomless, brilliant, ocean night blue.

His.

I’m his.

Whose?

Noah

* * *

Yesterday was rough. Last night was worse.

That seems to be the downward trend.

I wake wishful, and I go to sleep weak and weighted. I keep waiting for the moment when things will get better, but they don’t. Every day brings a new mountain to climb, and it only gets higher, steeper. It’s as if I’m at the bottom with a broken harness and no rope.

Except there seems to be an invisible one wrapped around my chest, and it tightens every time I look up to see her smiling face, pointed at a man who’s not me.

My mom’s going to realize things are getting worse the moment I’m in front of her, so I make a quick stop in the bathroom, splash some water on my face and take a moment to mask the broken man in the mirror.

It takes a little less effort when I reach her, finding her bed raised to the highest sitting position and a smile on her face.

“Hey, Mom.” I slip closer, my grin feeling a little foreign. I notice the wheelchair beside the bed and then Cathy steps around me.

“Hey, Noah.” She offers a small smile, meeting my eyes for a moment before focusing on my mom. “This young woman here has been watching the clock for you today.”

My mom swats at her playfully, and then she does something I’ve yet to see her accomplish, maneuvers her hips at a ninety-degree angle. On her own.

Her eyes come up to mine and a low chuckle leaves me. “Whoa, now. What’s this?” I rush around, unable to control the smile on my face as she reaches for me.

Taking her right hand in mine, I guide her, ready to support her left side, should she need me to, but she twists, planting right into the seat. Bent at the knee, I look up at her, and I’m almost overcome, but I don’t want to spoil this, so I swallow it back. “Someone has been killing it in therapy, huh?”

My mom laughs gently. “I’m feeling great, son.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” I push to my feet, leaning in to hug her. “So, where we going?”

“Cathy says there’s little cakes in the cafeteria next door. Thought we could try it out, see if it’s anything like mine.”

I chuckle, my knee bouncing. “Doubtful.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see. Besides, the coffee here tastes like used grinds, so I could use one step up.”