Page 38 of Tobias

“Ma,” I say.

“Hello, Tobias. Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, pinning Molly with a glare. She rolls her eyes. “Do you need help with something?”

“We could have used help earlier, when we needed the lightbulb in the hallway changed and the kitchen faucet was dripping.”

I raise a brow. “I’m assuming you managed.”

I’m not a fucking maintenance man.

“Yeah, well, thanks to Jason being here, we did.”

My mother closes the fridge, ignoring my gaze as she takes a casserole dish to the counter. She can’t bear to look at me because she knows what she did. But she doesn’t have enough balls to tell my sister to lay off me. If I told my sister what my mother did, she wouldn’t believe me. If my mother told her, she’d have a conniption. My mother can’t risk it because thenshe’d have none of her children. My sister is the only one my mother has left.

As I watch them get food ready, a pang of sadness hits me right in the chest. They look so much alike. Both pretty with light brown hair and matching eyes. My mother is a little over five feet tall while Molly got height from our father and stands around 5'8". They both have such bitter souls that it takes from their looks. I wonder if they know and if they even care.

With a shake of my head, I leave the kitchen and go down the hall. I stop when I spot the photo of my father hanging on the wall. It causes my chest to ache. The older I get, the more I look like him. I remember when this picture was taken because I was the one who took it with one of those disposable cameras while we hiked Rattlesnake Ledge. We had such a good day, just the two of us. Soon enough I’ll reach an age he never got to be. It’s so unfair. It’s so—

“Where are you going, Tobias?” my sister shouts from the kitchen.

“To the bathroom!” I answer.

She mutters something under her breath, and I keep going.

I lock myself in the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe. I’m only going to be here a few hours. I can handle this.

I can handle this.

Checking my phone, I see a text from Theo saying Happy Thanksgiving. So I respond. I wait a moment and then send another, wondering how his day is going. I’m sure it’s perfect,just like the rest of his life. Problem is, perfection isn’t always what we want or need. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I splash some water on my face, then leave and go back to the kitchen. I can totally do this.

I place the dish of squash on the table, right between the mashed potatoes and carrots. My phone buzzes, so I pull it from my pocket as I take a seat. There's a text from Theo.

Save me.

I smirk, typing out a response.

My sister would murder me if I left.

“God, can you get off your phone?” Molly gripes. “We’re trying to eat.”

I look up at her. “And me typing onmyphone is stopping your mouth from working?”

“Yeah, actually it is.”

“Clearly it’s not, since you can’t shut up.”

Her eyes widen, and she whips her head toward our mother, who is pouring herself some wine. The moment she puts the bottle down, I snatch it up and fill my glass to the very top.

“Let’s just try to have a nice meal,” my mother says simply.

“I’m trying,” Molly says, taking the bottle of wine from Jason who was about to pour himself some. I take a sip ofmine before dumping some into his glass. He gives me an appreciative smile, knowing Molly is about to drain the bottle.

I don’t know why he hangs around. Maybe because trying to divorce my sister would be worse than staying married to her. Who the hell knows?

My phone vibrates on the table, and I look at it.

How many siblings do you have?

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