Page 116 of Sweeper
An awkward look flits across his face. “I have to take photos of the flat next door because I’m going to be looking for a new tenant soon. Zander said I could drop in sometime today while he was away at a football match.”
Chills erupt over my entire body. “Zander is moving?”
Hayden nods slowly. “It would appear so.”
I shakily lower myself onto the sofa beside my brother, struggling to get over the shock of this news. This past week has been worse than the first week we didn’t speak. The first week, I was too angry to feel the loss of him. Now that I know we’re over and can hear him coming and going through these stupidly thin walls, it’s like emotional cutting every single day. This is exactly why you don’t get involved with a neighbor. Him leaving shouldn’t feel this devastating to me. I should be rejoicing. I should call up Phoebe and tell her it’s time to drink after all.
But I’m not rejoicing. I’m crushed. “Do you know why he’s moving?” I inquire, my voice sounding weak.
His brows lift. “I suspect it has something to do with you.”
“What did I do?” I ask, feeling defensive because it wasn’t me who lied in our relationship.
Hayden shrugs, adjusting the leather cuff around his wrist that he always wears. “I was hoping you could tell me. Zander was a little light on the details.”
“So, you talked to him?”
He nods. “A bit. You know he came to Sunday dinner last week, right?”
I nod slowly. “How did it go? How did everyone take the news about his connection?” Nerves take flight in my belly as I wonder if it went badly and this is why he’s moving.
“It went about as one would expect it to go. The Harris family is populating so much. What’s another half brother to throw in the mix?” Hayden laughs and shakes his head. “The Harrises are good with dysfunctional, and nothing says dysfunctional like a secret love child no one knew about for twenty-five years.”
I huff out a laugh at that very astute description my brother has given this whole situation. “But they were accepting of him?” I ask, holding my breath.
Hayden tilts his head at me. “Why do you care so much?”
“I don’t.” I turn my gaze forward and cross my arms over my chest.
“Yes, you do,” Hayden says, poking his finger into my cheek. “Your face flushes bright red when you’re lying just like Marisa’s used to.”
My wide eyes snap to Hayden’s. “I haven’t heard you say her name in a long time.”
He shrugs, but I see the emotion in his eyes. “I saw 11:11 on the clock today, and it made me think of her.”
A smile lifts my lips. When Hayden was struggling with depression and blaming himself for Marisa’s death many years ago, the time 11:11 was a bit of a trigger for him. It took him to a very dark place, and it was me who told him that 11:11 was lucky and he should make a wish on it every time he sees it. It’s kind of Hayden’s thing now. He’s such a different person today than he was back when he was struggling with addiction after Marisa’s death. I don’t give him enough credit for the work he puts in.
“I miss her,” I state, feeling my chin tremble. “Sisters are good to talk boy stuff out with.”
“Brothers aren’t so bad either,” Hayden says, frowning at me. “Seriously, Daphney, talk to me. Help me understand how what Zander did was so unforgivable.”
“So you’re on his side?” I retort.
“I didn’t say that.” He holds his hands up. “I’m always on your side, but if you’re on the wrong side, as your big brother, it’s my job to drag your arse over to the right side.”
My teeth clench with anger that I’m having to rehash this whole nightmare again. I’ve been torturing myself with it for two weeks now, and I hate it. Now Zander gets to move out and be the martyr of this story. It’s complete shit.
“Zander used me to get closer to the Harris family.” I lay it all out there, no longer caring if Hayden will hate Zander for knowing the truth. If he can’t even text me to tell me he’s moving, he doesn’t deserve my loyalty.
“I know.” Hayden blinks blankly back at me.
My brows furrow because it appears he needs more to go on. “He didn’t tell me about all the important stuff going on in his life.”
“He didn’t tell you about one thing,” Hayden corrects.
“Wondering if Vaughn Harris is his birth father is a pretty significant life detail!” I exclaim, my head jutting forward defensively.
“What’s really going on here, Daphney?” Hayden asks, his eyes piercing me with a knowing look. “Because my bullshit meter is pretty bloody good, and from what I can tell, the only bullshit I’m picking up on is coming from you.”
