Page 78 of Two For the Show
Every bit of my nervous system is screaming that, and I’m trying to push the thoughts away, but it’s not working.
Alex is safe. She is. She has shown me that. She isn’t like my father.
But I can’t slow my breathing. I can’t bring myself to go to her.
“I’m going to get Dario,” she says softly, squeezing my foot under the blankets of her nest. “It’ll be okay. I’m going to get your brother.”
I can see my father’s image hanging on the edge of the room like a sleep paralysis demon. No matter how many times I blink, how hard I squeeze my eyes shut, when I open them, he’s still there, with that contrite look on his face.
Dario comes barrelling into the room, looking harried and rumpled, with Jude and Alex hanging out in the doorway.
“Dex,” he says softly, climbing into the bed with me. We often shared a bed when we were children, and feeling him wrap around me settles my rapidly beating heart. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”
Nightmares are common for me. When Alex first joined us, they ramped up to the point where Dario forced me to get medicine for them since I wasn’t sleeping. I haven’t had one since I lost my virginity.
“Dad,” I say softly, blinking past the tears and trying to calm my shaking hands. “I went to see him in prison and I never told you.”
I’m vaguely aware of Jude and Alex pulling back from the doorway and leaving us alone, but I can’t look away from my brother.
“Why?” He sounds hurt. I don’t blame him.
“I needed closure. I wanted to find a way to forgive him.”
“Did you? Find it, I mean?”
I shake my head sadly. “No.”
When I tell him about the visit, the things Dad said, sadness overtakes his features. “So you think he planned it? Planned going into Storm?”
I lace my fingers with his. “Maybe? But I’m not convinced he even went into Storm, Dario. How can we even know? He seemed apologetic, but he made a ton of excuses. Almost like he was blaming her.”
“I mean, we were kids, but it seemed like they loved each other, didn’t it?” Dario rolls over onto his back and stares at the metal ceiling of Alex’s trailer. “But maybe we missed some of it.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever really know,” I admit. “I want to think we can. I thought I needed to know so I could move on.”
“And now?”
Sighing, I try to collect my thoughts. I’m still struggling with the adrenaline rush of the nightmare. “Now, I feel like the answer doesn’t matter. I feel like I wasted years of my life being fearful and hateful. I wish I could’ve moved on like you did.”
Dario snorts. “You think I just moved on? Skipped off on my merry way?”
“It seemed like that,” I admit.
“Yeah, it would have. I tried to shield you from it. There’s a reason why I never had any serious relationships until now. I held everyone but you at arm’s length, fearing what could happen. The one time I got close to someone other than you, I watched as they set a house on fire.”
He tells me about his involvement in the house fire in our neighborhood that made the news when we were teenagers. My heart aches.
Why couldn’t he come to me with these worries?
Right. Because he was so busy protecting me from everything.
“Fuck, we need therapy,” I say with a laugh. “I’m regretting not taking it seriously when we were kids.”
“Hey Jude,” Dario shouts. “Does our insurance cover therapy?”
I can hear the snort of our showrunner in the other room. “Hell no. But we can find you one of those app therapists.”
Dario laughs and turns to me. “What do you say? Internet therapy for us both?”
