Page 33 of Dr. Attending

Cassidy shakes her head and looks at me with genuine remorse. “For the record, I told him not to do it.”

“Me too,” Morgan pipes up.

She’s about to add something, but she winces and inhales sharply as Claire misses her vein.

“Thanks guys,” I say with a thin smile as I open the door to step outside. “But you know what they say . . . you can lead a horse to water, tell him he’s thirsty, and even splash it in his face, but sometimes he still won’t drink.”

***

The spiral stairs creak as I climb them to the upper deck of the boathouse.

I’ve always preferred spending time up here because the views of the Appalachian Mountains are the best on the property. The lush greens that give way to an assortment of reds, yellows, and oranges in the fall have always made the background noise in my mind go silent. It’s the place where I feel most at peace, and that peace is what I’m desperately trying to channel before I face my brother.

I walk towards the edge of the balcony and wrap my arm around one of the massive wooden posts, leaning on it for support as I let my gaze drift over the water in our secluded cove.

Joy-filled memories with my family should be what I focus on, but for some reason, all I can think about is Weston. How he found it amusing to catch me by surprise and toss me into thewater while I was tanning on the deck. Or how he would hide my phone in obscure locations around the house and claim that I was losing my mind. It was like he was constantly trying to get my attention, even though I made it abundantly clear that my attention was the last thing I wanted to give him.

Parker’s heavy footsteps across the worn wood pull me out of my head, and I feel my shoulders tense because I’ve never actually formally confronted my brother like this before.

“So,” he says carefully, his tone cool and composed like usual. “Want to tell me why you’re upset?”

I take a deep breath and turn to face him.

He’s leaning against the opposite knotty pine post with his arms crossed defensively like he’s expecting me to yell. Which I almost do until I drag my gaze to meet his and only see concern swimming in the deep blue depths of his eyes.

“You really don’t know?”

His brows dip in confusion. “Know what? When I talked to you yesterday afternoon, everything was fine.”

“You asked me to picksomethingup. Notsomeone. Those are two very different things.”

I can hear the way my tone changes, but I can’t stop myself because it feels so fucking good. It feels good to stop placating our relationship to avoid conflict. To put myself and my feelings first for once.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he laughs, talking to me like I’m some sort of skittish horse he’s trying to break. “Carol, calm down for a second.”

The pounding of my rapidly escalating pulse echoes in my ears, drowning out my ability to hear anything other than my own rage.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Parker Andrew Winters. And stop calling me Carol. You know I hate that name.”

My brother raises his hands like he’s surrendering.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, his expression softening just enough to disarm me. “You’re right. I should have just asked if you would drive Wes up. But to be fair . . . I thought you were fine with him because you stood up for him when we talked.”

I scoff because his rationale doesn’t surprise me one bit.

“Just because I told you that you were being a dumbass, doesn’t mean I’m on good terms with Wes. And it definitely doesn’t mean that I just forgot how he treated me every summer.”

Parker sighs heavily, dragging a hand down his face. “He didn’t. He was just—”

“Don’t,” I snap, cutting him off before he can finish. “Don’t take his side. Don’t gaslight me. Just don’t.”

I feel the telltale sting of emotion rising in my throat, my lower lip threatening to betray me, but I push through it, forcing the words out.

“You have no idea what it was like. How he constantly undermined me and made me feel like I was some sort of uptight, unlikable joke. How he made me question if I was good enough. And how much it hurt when everyone—including you—just laughed along with him.”

My words hang in the air between us, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me because I didn’t realize how deeply seeded my emotions were until I said them out loud.

For my entire life, everyone saw the version of myself that I was desperately trying to portray—the placating, overachieving younger sister who did everything she could to make her family proud. Everyone but Weston. It was like my perfectly crafted facade was invisible to him, and he seemed to relish in that. To relish in my imperfections.

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