Page 86 of Under Pressure

“Brandon,” Rochelle warns. “You’ve worked hard to repair your relationship with Lynn. Don’t throw all that work away and turn Tyler against her too in the process.”

He grips her hand tight, blowing out a breath until he seems calmer.

“I never knew you had a problem with Mom.”

“It had nothing to do with you.”

Didn’t it have everything to do with me, though? I shake my head. “But when we were older, once they got married again, it’s not like we were all one big happy family.”

“You’re right. I was still resentful towards Mom. Dylan tried to be the peacekeeper between us. And you always liked being alone. At least, I thought you liked it. You isolated yourself in your room, usually reading or something.”

I sit back, processing everything Brandon’s said. “I—I should go.”

“No,” they say simultaneously.

“Please stay,” Rochelle adds, wrapping her arm around mine. The action is soothing, consoling a part of me. Did Mia open up some kind of need for physical affection within me? I’ve never particularly thought of Rochelle as family, but I guess she is my sister-in-law and all. If there’s any girl I could lean on besides Mom, it would be her.

Since Mia’s not mine to do that with.

I try to focus on the memory of Mia’s voice repeating the biofeedback techniques, aware my heart rate is higher than normal, my shoulders tense. I do what I can to consciously relax my body, breathing in and out deeply. “If you want me to stay, I will.”

“Yes, we want you to,” Brandon says. “Jesus Christ, she did a number on you,” he mutters to himself. Rochelle pokes him in the stomach and glares at him, but he ignores her. “You should talk to Mom about all this.”

The thought makes me break out in a cold sweat and I immediately shake my head. But in some weird way, I feel better knowing Brandon has dealt with anger issues his whole life the same as I have. We’re more alike than I ever knew.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Rochelle says, using us as leverage to get herself up off the couch as a timer from the kitchen dings. She walks through the arch toward the kitchen and Brandon smiles fondly after her.

“She’s acting like she’s already too big to get up from a sitting position by herself, but she’s only six weeks along.”

“Have you told anyone else yet?” I ask, grateful for a change in topic. I can’t handle any more family revelations.

“She told her sister. She said there’s no earthly way she could keep the news from her.” He leans back, then looks over at me seriously. “I’m glad we got to tell you next. Dylan will be a fun uncle, but he doesn’t live close by anymore. And Riley’s too young. You’ll be the one the kid turns to.”

“You really… trust me that much?”

“I do,” he says, staying serious. “I think it’s time to stop whatever self-imposed exile you’ve been putting yourself in. Agreed?”

I nod, not wanting to get into it with him. But it’s not a matter of changing everything I’ve believed my whole life with a snap of my fingers.

Rochelle calls us to the dining room then, but halfway through dinner, she has to excuse herself.

“I guess morning sickness can happen anytime of the day,” Brandon explains.

She’s able to join us again as I finally take my leave, promising to visit again soon.

Rochelle unknowingly asks if Mia would like to come too next time, sending a short burst of pain through my chest. I don’t bother to deny our relationship any longer, but nod my head noncommittally.

I walk outside, the cool air pleasant against my skin, and pause before I unlock my car, something about the thought of asking Mia to join me here filling me with hope after my talk with Brandon. They’ve never hated me this whole time. Maybe I didn’t fuck things up as bad as I assumed I did with her either.

I get in my car and pull out my phone, but stop short at who’s just below her in my contacts.

Mom.

If there’s anyone I need to talk to, it’s her.

I press her name and the green phone icon before I can second-guess myself.

“Tyler,” she answers, happiness in her voice. “What a nice surprise.”

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