Page 52 of Dreams
Then Thanksgiving came, and Ethan was so nervous to propose that he was not only high, but he’d had a few glasses of whiskey. When it happened, it was like he couldn’t stop himself. He watched himself slam her up against the bookshelf, watched himself hit her, not understanding what was happening.
“If her dad hadn’t found us…” Ethan’s shoulders shook as he held in a sob.
Josh had never seen his brother lose it before. He was always in control - to the point of cold calculation.
“You can’t make excuses for what happened,” Josh said lowly.
“I’m not,” Ethan yelled defensively, jumping to his feet before bringing himself under control again. He swiped a hand through his hair violently. “There is no excuse. I did it. It was horrible. And then the accident… when I saw her in that hospital bed, that was rock bottom for me.”
Not long after that, the booze and the pills caught up with him as his studies took a hit. He’d been a medical student at Harvard. His grades slipped until he finally lost his place.
Josh sat in stunned silence, waiting for the end of the story.
“Dad found out and forced me into rehab. That’s why the mini-bar is empty. He cleared it out. I’ve been sober for three months and counting. That’s why I’ve been trying to reach you. I need to make things right.” A sob escaped his lips, and he cleared his throat to cover it up. “I don’t have many people left, but you’re my brother.”
Josh collapsed back into the chair under the weight of his brother’s stare. He opened his mouth to say something, anything. He knew he needed to. This was the time to have the perfect, meaningful words. But none came. Ethan waited anxiously for his reaction.
A number of emotions tumbled through Josh’s brain. An incredible sadness overwhelmed him, but also an intense guilt. This was his brother; he should have known what was going on. He’d been away, following his own dreams, while his brother had been falling into this hole. For the last two years, Josh had been doing everything in his power to avoid him.
Then there was anger. His brother could have asked for help. He could have stopped it before putting Michaela through hell. The drugs and the booze may have been clouding his mind, but it was still his hands that had done the damage.
Ethan held out a hand to Josh, willing him to take it and be his brother again. Josh stared at the open palm and then his eyes followed the line of his arm, across his narrow shoulders, and up into his uncertain face. Josh ignored the hand, and it dropped.
Ethan heaved a sigh, his posture stiffening as Josh stood to face him.
“I’m sorry,” Josh finally said, his voice catching in his throat. “I should have helped you.” He looked away. “I should have known.”
“No one knew.”
“I’m your brother!” Josh’s voice rose and then fell in a single instant. “I’m your brother,” he said quietly this time. “I should have known.”
Ethan put a hand on Josh’s shoulder, but Josh shrugged him off, instead angling his body so he could look his brother in the eye.
“You should have trusted me,” he growled. “For so long, you became a different person. This isn’t only about what you did to Michaela. She actually wants me to forgive you. With or without the drugs, that person is inside of you. The anger. The selfishness. All of it. I love you, Ethan. I even forgive you. But, this…” he wagged his finger from him to his brother. “This, I can’t do. I’m always here if you need me, but we aren’t those kind of brothers. We aren’t friends.”
Josh walked by him, and Ethan didn’t say a word. He didn’t try to stop him as he stepped into the hall and shut the door behind him.
Putting a hand on the wall to steady himself, Josh bent over to force out the breaths clogging in his throat. Tears slid down his cheeks, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. At the end of the hall he slipped into the ice machine’s room, its steady thrum providing a sense of comfort as he leaned against the wall and slid to the ground beside it.
He pressed the side of his face to the cold metal and pulled out his phone.
He wanted nothing more than to rush back out to the car. To hear Taylor’s voice. To see her look at him with her wide, sincere eyes. To let her soothe him. But there was someone else he needed to call. Someone who deserved this story more than anyone.
“Hey, Joshy!” Michaela answered.
He responded with a deep sob.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she asked. “It’s Ethan, isn’t it? I know he’s in Columbus right now. If he did something to you, I’m going to kill him.”
The story came spilling out. When he was finished, a stunned silence filled the line.
“Michaela, how could I not see it?”
“You forget,” her voice wavered. “I spent a lot more time with him over that year than you did. I can’t believe this. Was I just too into myself? Did I just want the fantasy of being with him? He changed so suddenly, and I didn’t even consider that something was wrong. What kind of person does that make me?” Her rambling trailed off.
“I didn’t want to dump this on you,” Josh said quietly, thumping his head back against the wall. “I just needed to hear your voice.”
“No, it’s good you told me. When he’s back home, I’m going to talk to him.”
