Page 36 of Sweeter Than Fiction

“No, it’s okay.” I sit up, trying to get a little more comfortable. “I have two older brothers. Both of them were star athletes, prom kings, and the most popular boys in school. My parents were endlessly proud. Understandably. But they wanted a daughter—someone my mom could put in big, frilly dresses and enter into beauty contests. Instead, they got me.”

Don opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him. “This isn’t me being down on myself. They wanted a daughter who was completely different from me. I was quiet and introverted. I had a certain way of doing things that was the complete opposite of my brothers. My mom tried getting me into things that interested her so that we could bond, but it never really worked. She just eventually gave up.”

I pause for a moment. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. My parents never abused me—physically or emotionally. I never got less than my brothers. Ultimately, they are good people. We just have absolutely nothing in common. Because of that, we aren’t very close. I make appearances on holidays, but that’s about it. To no one’s surprise, I’m a bit neurodivergent, and they never quite understood how my brain worked—or really were patient with the idea that maybe it just worked differently than theirs.”

“Is it weird when you go home?”

“Kind of. It all just feels forced. My mom loves to take little digs at me while my dad basically ignores me aside from some small talk. And my brothers both have such busy, high-powered lives that we have nothing in common. We are all still nice and cordial, but we don’t have an amazing time. I choose to keep my life separate from them. It’s what’s best for my own mental health.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “I won’t bring it up again.”

“I appreciate you wanting to help, though.” I feel my eyes getting heavy again. “This cold is kicking my ass.”

“Lie down and get some more sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You know, a couple of weeks ago, I never would have fathomed letting some guy just hang out in my apartment while I slept. But after getting to know Don, I don’t even second-guess it.

Instead, I slowly drift off, taking great comfort in the fact that Don will be right here.

Chapter Fourteen

Don

“What the hell do you mean Kaylee broke her leg?” I ask a little more confrontational than I intend.

“Donovan, chill,” my sister insists. “Kaylee literally came out of me, and I’m not nearly as heated as you are.”

“Maybe you’re just not freaking out enough. What happened?”

“She was playing on the playground and fell off the slide. She’s fine. Hell, she would’ve kept going if her teacher hadn’t noticed her leg looked funny.”

“I’m coming home,” I tell her.

“Don, you know you don’t need to do that. You can’t come running home every time your niece has the slightest inconvenience.”

“Watch me. I’ll jump on a plane and be there tomorrow.”

I hang up before Jill can argue further. I’m fully aware of how ridiculous it sounds that I’m going back to Nebraska for a broken leg.

I also don’t give a shit. I hate that I can’t be there for her every day. I wish I could be there for every single one of the little things, but I can’t. I’ll make damn sure I can be there for the big things, though.

And breaking a leg seems like a big one.

I pull my phone back out to order airline tickets and see a notification for a package that I’m having delivered. I ordered a new laptop for work, and it’s supposed to be here…tomorrow.

Shit. I don’t want to leave a laptop sitting out in the hallway. I wonder if I could get Abby to grab it for me and bring it inside.

After a couple days of being sick, she is back to normal. We’ve spent the better part of a week watching TV and hanging out. It’s much more fun when she’s not sick and sleeping the whole time.

I know she’ll help me out if I ask. I’ll just have to make sure to make it up to her when I get back.

“Now, why the hell would you get a bear that big?” My mother asks as I struggle to fit the giant teddy bear I bought in the backseat of her compact car.

“Are you kidding?” I ask. “When my niece falls and breaks her leg, I am going to get her the best that money can buy.”

“In other words, you got it because you know it’s going to annoy the crap out of your sister.” She says with a heaping dose of side-eye.

“Look, did I buy it because I know that Jill will hate it? No. That’s just an added perk.”

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