Page 80 of Rebound

ChapterThirty-Seven

ELIJAH

“Where are you?” I say into my phone as I march along the busy Manhattan street. People get out of my way, jerking their Christmas shopping bags to one side to avoid me. “I need to see you.”

“I’m out with Amelia,” Drake answers. “I’m happy to talk this through with you, but I’m not in the mood for more melodrama, okay?”

I grit my teeth. I’d still quite like to punch his lights out. However, he isn’t wrong. Typically, I am not a man prone to theatrics, but I can’t deny the part I played in what happened in his office.

The address he texts me is only a few blocks away, and I bump into Amelia leaving as I step inside the quiet bar. “You don’t have to go on my account,” I say, feeling guilty.

She smiles and pats my arm. “This is between the two of you, Elijah. Just go easy on him, okay?”

Before I can respond, she leaves me standing there, confused. Go easy on him? What the fuck does that mean?

I find Drake in a corner booth, a bottle of Scotch and two glasses in front of him. Fuck. It’s going to be that kind of conversation. I slide into the booth, and he wordlessly pours me a drink. He rubs the bridge of his nose and looks upset, like he might have been crying. I can count on one finger the number of times I’ve seen Drake cry in adulthood, and I’m reminded of Amelia’s warning.

“She told you?” he asks, glancing up at me.

I nod. “Yeah. But I don’t fucking understand it. Why the hell would Mom say those things to her? If it were anyone other than Amber telling me, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Elijah,” Drake replies firmly. “I was there—I heard everything.”

I tilt my head to one side, studying him. He’s a few drinks in already, and this is clearly tough for him. “What do you mean, you were there?”

“It was a few days before she died. You guys were staying over. I’d gone to get a beer and walked past her room on the way back. She was laying into Amber. I couldn’t fucking believe it either, to start with. But she wasn’t herself—you remember how fucked up she was? The way she didn’t even recognize us by the end?”

The way she changed will always haunt me. I’ve worked hard over the years to banish those images from my mind—to not let her last few days overshadow everything else. She was a loving mother, a caring wife, a passionate and fun-loving woman who never forgot her Spanish roots. She was all of that and more. I refuse to remember her as the pain-addled animal who suffered so much before she passed. Her death was a mercy after seeing what she went through.

“I do remember. But I still don’t get it. Mom could be a firecracker, and sure, she had a temper—but she was never cruel.”

“I know this is hard to wrap your head around, but I promise you I heard every single word, Elijah. She called her barren. Told her she was broken. I think her exact words were ‘he’ll resent you for what he had to give up.’ She even said that the rest of the family all felt the same—sad for poor Elijah. Fuck, it was awful. Amber was crying her eyes out. She was damn wellapologizingfor not being able to give her grandkids.”

His hand trembles as he picks up his glass. I don’t think I’ve seen him this unstable since our mom actually died. Despite his obvious distress, I’m pissed as hell at him, struggling with what he’s saying. I can almost understand why Amber kept this from me, but him? My own fucking brother. That, I don’t get.

“Why am I just hearing about this? How could you have kept this from me?”

My calm tone doesn’t fool him. Drake is as good as Nathan at reading people. “You’re pissed,” he says. “I get it. I’ll do my best to explain, but if at the end of this, you want to take a swing at me, I won’t try to stop you. I owe you that.”

“We’re not kids anymore, Drake. I’m not going to fight you. Just… Talk to me, please.”

He nods and runs his hands through his hair. “Amber… To start with, she made me promise not to tell you that night. She knew how much you were suffering and didn’t want to make it worse. She wanted you to be able to focus on Mom and Dad, and hell, I suppose us too—you always did take your big brother duties seriously. You were trying to hold us together, and she knew you were struggling. Maybe she thought she’d talk it over with you at some point, but then after Mom died, it’s not like things got any easier. The funeral, the aftermath. Dad was a mess. We all were. You were grieving, then Maddox went off the rails. It was one thing after another, and I guess she never thought the time was right.”

I gulp down my Scotch. Fuck. I was wrong. I do want to take a swing at him. I’d like to punch him square in the face for keeping something so important from me. Something that ultimately destroyed my marriage. Amber didn’t tell me because she didn’t want to hurt me, and she carried that weight all alone while also grieving for my mom—and for the babies she would never have.

And minutes ago, after she finally did tell me, I looked her in the face and… Fuck, what did I even say? I was in shock. Did I make her think I didn’t believe her? The way she looked at me before she walked out of Drake’s office flashes in my mind’s eye, and my stomach drops. I may not remember what I said, but I know I let her down. Again. I close my eyes and wish I could turn back time. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t ever tell me.” I try to keep a lid on my temper, but it bleeds into my tone regardless.

“That’s complicated. For a start, she kept making me promise. But I had my own selfish reason. I hated myself for the way I spoke to Mom that night. I didn’t think, I just reacted, you know? Amber was sobbing, and Mom loved Amber. She was just… She was confused. And she didn’t remember saying anything. She…” He gulps, and another tear drips onto the table. “She accused me of making it up. Of saying it to hurt her. The last lucid thing she ever said to me was to go away and leave her in peace. And the last memory she had of me was that I caused her pain. She was never really with it again after that night. Never really herself. I’ve… Fuck, Elijah, I’ve always hated myself for that.”

He drains his glass and slams it down. I stare at him, beyond shocked. My last real conversation with my mother was about my pop and how she wanted him to live and love again when she was gone. She made me promise to look out for him, to make sure he found someone else when the time was right. She talked about my brothers and asked me to keep an eye on them. Finally, she talked about me. She held my hand to her dry lips and kissed it. “Te amo, Elijah,” she murmured. “My firstborn. My beautiful baby boy. Always so strong. Te amo.”

I have treasured that memory. Have taken it out and examined it over the years, allowed it to console me. Used it to paint over the awful picture of those lost days near the end. I didn’t realize how lucky I was until I heard Drake’s story and saw his anguish.

I pour him another drink and push it toward him. “I get it, Drake. I understand. I’m so fucking sorry. But you know she loved you, right? And she felt loved by you. None of that gets wiped out by one fucked-up conversation when she was out of her head on pain meds.”

“I know, yeah, logically at least. That’s what Amelia said. But it’s been hard. And you and Amber… Fuck, I should have said something earlier. I think it broke something in her, you know? After the funeral, she started to pull away from us. Stopped being as involved.”

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