Page 112 of The Affair
Would he understand?
Would he wait?
And how would I ever explain my fear that was keeping us apart?
* * *
Another week had gone by.
It was another seven days of intense treatment, and although my mom had been taking it like a champ, I could see it was wearing on her.
“Is she resting?” my brother asked, having just arrived home from work.
“Yes,” I answered. “It was a rough day.”
“The nurse will be here in the morning to check on her,” he said, pretending to be interested in the stack of mail that had come earlier.
But I knew better.
He was holding his tongue.
“You don’t approve?” It wasn’t a question, merely an observation.
“It doesn’t seem to matter what I think. You’re just going to keep doing what you see fit.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I responded, “Like you did when Mom moved here? I don’t seem to recall having any say in that.”
Placing the envelopes down on the counter, he gave me a stern look. “It was her choice. I simply had the means to facilitate it.”
It was meant as a hard jab to my financial situation, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Why is everything about money with you?”
He shrugged, and I hated how much he looked like Dad when he did that. “I’ve worked hard to get to where I am. It’s nice to help out where I can. The real question is, why are you so obsessed with my money?”
“I’m not,” I argued. “I just don’t like how you throw it around like it’s the solution to every single problem in the world.”
My words were like ice, freezing him instantly. I’d gone too far, and I regretted it.
“I’m going to go check on the kids,” he announced, stepping away from the counter and exiting the kitchen.
It was the first time I’d lashed out at him since we were kids.
Back then, I used to question his every move.
Why are you reading when you could be outside?
Why are you hiding in your room?
Why aren’t you a normal brother?
Apparently, I hadn’t changed much since then. The only difference was, my words cut a bit deeper as an adult.
Feeling defeated, I sat in the great big kitchen, alone and exhausted. It seemed I had a knack for isolating myself, even in a house filled with people.
“You feel like having a cup of coffee with me?” Bethany asked. Her voice was timid as she stepped into the empty room.
“Um, sure,” I managed to say, surprised by her appearance. We hadn’t exactly been ignoring each other since I arrived, but it was safe to say we kept our distance. “I can make it though,” I offered. “Why don’t you sit down?”
