Page 58 of Bitter Lies

“I found out something,” he says abruptly.

“What?” The pleasant memories from our childhood fade under his grim expression, and with a pulse of worry, I watch him shrug his shoulders as he looks at the table.

After a moment, he raises his gaze and stares at me with a desperation that causes me to shiver, his blue eyes shining brightly. “It’s about me.”

“Okay. What is it?” I ask through dry lips.

“Remember eighth grade when we took that class trip to DC?”

“Yeah, I do.”

It was a horrible trip for me, the beginning of the end, I think. Max was a beast to be around, and Griff dropped me, hanging out with Lexie Anderson instead. I was devastated and confused, which only grew when we came home and both of the boys continued to ignore me.

That was where it all fell apart, and it’s been perfectly horrible ever since.

“Mom had to pull out our legal documents to provide copies in case of an emergency,” he says grimly.

Nodding, I watch as his face spasms, his eyes turning a bitter blue hue before he says, “My birth certificate had my name, and all but with it was an order of adoption.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I was fucking adopted,” he says impatiently.

“What? How’s that possible?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not your fucking brother. My name isn’t even fucking Max, and technically I’m two months younger than I thought I was.”

Staring at him blindly, I try to process his words, but they’re not computing. None of it is.

“Max, did you ask Mom? Maybe there’s an explanation—”

“Fuck, Halsey! Don’t you fucking get it? She lied. They both lied! Why would I ask them?”

Tears inevitably well at the pain on his face, at the rage in his heart, and I try to comfort him by placing my hand on his, but he flinches and pulls away.

Sadly, I watch as he stands and paces before me, panting heavily and running his hands through his hair. Truthfully, although I’m devastated for him, in my heart, Max has been and always will be my brother, and nothing could change that, most certainly not words on a flimsy piece of paper.

But I know this must be devastating for him because everything he believed is a lie and lies have a way of eating at your psyche until you can’t remember the truth from it. Lies kill your fucking soul. I should know, for I walk around every single day bearing the weight of my own.

“Max, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say, but if you want answers, we have to ask Mom.”

“No! Okay? No. I’m not asking that bitch anything.” He slashes his hand through the air.

Taken aback, I whisper, “I’m sure there’s an explanation, Max…”

“Fuck off! This doesn’t involve you! It’s about me,” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth.

Shrinking away, I hold up my hand when he leans toward me with his lips pulled back in an ugly snarl. “This isn’t about you, Halsey. Not everything is about you. Fuck!”

“I’ve never said that, Max. I’m sorry,” I say on a sob, reaching out to him.

Flinching away, he slams his fist on the table, causing the bowl to jump and drop down with a clatter as milk spills over the sides.

“Max?” Griffin says from the doorway.

Max swings around with a devastated look and backs away, avoiding Griffin’s concerned stare as he glances between us.

“What’s going on?”

---