Page 81 of Don't Say You're Sorry

“Adam,” Axel says. “I need to talk to you about something.”

I glance at him standing in the doorway, then at Easton. We’re sitting on the sofa, watching one of Easton’s high school basketball games on his laptop.

Axel sneers. “What, do you need permission from your master to speak to me?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose.Here we go.

Easton snorts, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair. “It’s okay, baby. You can go.”

Axel’s nostrils flare. “Fuck you,” he says to Easton.

“In your dreams, you little bitch.”

“Okay.” I sigh, heading toward Axel. The last thing we need is for Mum to hear these two at each other’s throats again. She’s making Sunday dinner. I don’t know where Michael disappeared to. He’s probably working in his office.

“What the hell is going on with you?” I ask my brother as we step out into the garden. He’s been acting like this for a week.He’s barely said a word to any of us, and when he has, he’s mostly snapped at us.

I don’t know what happened. The day after Easton and I graduated high school last week, Axel dropped out of college and came home. He won’t talk about it, and it’s worrying me.

“Seriously, what’s—” I pause when I see Michael waiting for us at the side of the house. He and Axel both look tense, and now I’m really worried. “What’s going on?”

“I’m moving to London,” Axel says.

“What—”

“And I want you to come with me.”

I wait. Wait for him to laugh. To shove me and tell me he’s kidding. Of course he’s kidding.

But he’s not kidding. He’s serious.

“What’s going on?” I ask them again, slower this time, my heart racing with anxiety.

My biggest fear comes to life when Michael looks right at me and says, “I won’t let your relationship with Easton come between me and my wife.”

I swallow. Several moments pass, and my fear quickly morphs into rage. I turn and frown at my brother. “Did youtellhim? What the fuck, Axel?”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” he says quietly, his anger fading. He looks sad more than anything. Tired. Defeated. “He figured it out on his own, just like I told you he would. How long do you think it’s gonna be before Mum finds out too?”

As if the thought sickens him, Michael shakes his head vehemently. “I need you to leave him.”

“No,” I say. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Adam,” my brother pleads. “Think about this. Really think. Please. What happens when Mum finds out? Her entire life gets turned upside down. Again. You can’t do that to her.”

I know I can’t. Iknowthis. But what about Easton? I can’t do this to him either.

“No,” I say again. “The answer is no.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Easton asks me later. We’re lying on our backs on his bed, both of us staring at the ceiling. Neither of us have spoken in what feels like hours.

“No, just that he’s moving to London.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, afraid he’ll hear the crack in my voice if I speak any louder. “He said a lot of things.”

“Are you okay?”

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