Page 139 of Bring You Back

“Then burn it,” Camille adds.

“Ooh, pizza night,” Mom says as she appears around the corner from the hall in her beige robe, recognizing the occasion by the stack of boxes. “I’ll be out of your way in a moment. I just need to grab—” She rummages through the fridge, then reemerges clutching a bottle of juice. She pans a smile around the room as she leaves.

“Mom,” I call when she’s past the corner, away enough from the group that we can have some privacy. I meet her in the hall as she stops to face me. “You didn’t have it coming,” I start as she immediately opens her mouth to defend herself, but shuts it with a slight smile when my words register. She cheated on my father, but he gave her the impression he had forgiven her. She deceived him one time; he deceived her for years. “What Dad did isn’t your fault,” I say, because I know she needs to hear it, from me. “He made a commitment to you, and he should’ve honored it.”

“Thank you,” she says, brushing her knuckles against my cheek. “I needed to hear you say that.”

Now, taking in her relief at my words, I’m thinking I should’ve led with this next part. I continue, anyway, hoping I don’t ruin her mood. “Dad wants me to … be a brother,” I say stupidly, releasing a nervous laugh.

Her eyes rove in thought, then meet mine again, her stare now filled with concern, for me. “Is that whatyouwant?”

“Maybe,” I say. I don’t really know yet. The fact is, I might not know until I can lay eyes on the kid. See if I feel some type of way that makes me want to be a brother.

Mom gives me another smile. “You don’t need my permission.”

“I know,” I say with a nod. “It’s just with Tiffany—”

“Tiffany’s young, lost, and not exactly in the best position, either,” she cuts in. “But this isn’twithTiffany,” she assures me. “I know she’s the mother, but you won’t be a brother toher, so don’t worry about that.” She chuckles at her own wording, then gives me a look. “I’ve thought about this some myself, you know. I know there’s a possibility this kid could be in our lives. But the kid that matters to me ismykid.” She steps closer to me. “As long as I have you, I’ll be okay. So it’s your choice. And I’ll support whatever you decide.”

Despite everything she’s been through, despite the extra thingsI’veput her through because I couldn’t get my head out of my ass, she still wants me to be happy. Even if she has to sacrifice more of her own. My parents are rusty around the edges, but they really are gold. Better than most parents in my inner circle. Despite everything, I’m a lucky guy.

“Keep speaking up for everyone, Mom,” I tease, but keep love in my voice so she knows her need to protect and care is endearing instead of something to mock.

She gives me a cheeky grin and shakes her head. “It’s a part of me I’ve never managed to lose. Don’t want to start now.”

“You’ll never lose me, either,” I say, and her whole body sags with relief. And I thought she was relieved before.

“I needed to hear you say that, too.” She looks past my shoulder with a pointed stare toward the kitchen. “Now go be with your friends.”Don’t make it a long summer.

“Mom,” I call again when she’s heading back to her room, and she faces me. “How’re you feeling?”

She smiles. “Much better now.” She gives me a wink, then disappears inside her room.

When I make it back to the kitchen, my eyes automatically find Camille, and the smile on my face widens. Her hands are wrapped around a stack of plates. I guess Tommy convinced her to participate in pizza night.Pizza night.My smile fades. From my mom casually encouraging me to go be with my friends, to my friends waiting for me in this kitchen, for that split second, things felt normal. I should’ve known it was another false sense. No conversation or sight in the world will make life around here normal again.

Camille’s not even looking back at me. Her stare’s trained toward the front door. I notice the sudden quiet in the room—save for Banks’s loud chewing as he continues going to town on his pizza. I follow Camille’s stare, slowly, bracing myself for what I’m about to see, my body already knowing I’m not going to like it.

Reyna stands just inside the door. Dressed like Camille. From the dark shirt, all the way to the ripped jeans and black boots.

My first thought is,I did this.

My second thought is,Fuck, Reyna.

Apprehension swirls in my gut.How the hell did it come to this?

Camille

Good grief. Did she raid my duffel?

Everyone is struck dumb at the sight of Reyna wearing clothes similar to mine. Julian stares, stiffened, his face hard; Banks wouldn’t know a tiger with or without its stripes; and Tommy stares with lips parted, shocked to stillness. Leave it to me to get them moving.

I lift the stack of plates in my hands and carry them toward Julian, saying low, “We’re never going to begin, because this is never going to end.” He says my name, but I continue walking, ignoring the reaching in his voice, until I’m at the table, depositing the plates and facing Reyna. “Nice outfit.”

“You would think so,” she says, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. She cuts her sharp stare to Julian. “And so would you. Would we work better now?”

“Reyna—” Julian pipes up, guilt in his voice, a lingering lilt of frustration.

“Would this work for everyone better now?” she cuts him off, sweeping a stare to the rest of us.

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