Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
But none of those women were Charlotte. And I—
Oh no.
"Scott..." I almost couldn't say it because it was tantamount to admitting he'd been right all along. "I like her."
"Come on!"
"I'm sorry! I don't know how it happened. It just happened. I like being around her. She's funny and she's—"
"Going to break your heart, you fucking dick!" Scott shouted. "I told you, everybody falls for her. But she's not looking for any kind of commitment."
"I know that. And I respect it." I certainly didn't want to dive into anything serious at the moment, either. "I got cheated on. My heart is already broken. But spending time with Charlotte is fun. We get each other."
"I knew you would." Scott sounded like a man who regretted every life choice he'd made so far. "Charlotte is an objectively awesome person. I get why you would want to hang out and have fun with her. But you live for commitment."
"Maybe Charlotte can teach me how to get past that. I'm trying to explain to you, as you requested, that your sister and I are in a relationship. We're friends We hang out and we flirt and yes, we have sex. And I wish I could tell you that it's no problem, I'll stop seeing her, but I... I can't do that." I could do that. I just didn't want to let her go.
"Are you telling me that my best friend is replacing me with my sister?" Scott chuckled, but it wasn't convincing. "Bros before hoes."
"First, don't call your sister a hoe. Second, no, you're not being replaced. A few phone calls and texts aren't going to erase two decades of history. Are you really that insecure?" I was kind of insulted that my loyalty wasn't obvious. Facing up to the fact that it was my fault, my own behavior, that he doubted my commitment to our friendship wasn't pleasant. I pushed that right down into the vault where I kept all the other unpleasant shit I didn't want to do any self-reflection about.
"Of course, I'm insecure," he answered without hesitation. "Dude, the person I was about to legally and symbolically combine my life with for the rest of time decided to give it a pass at the very last minute. I'm questioning everybody. I was left at the altar while simultaneously watching my best friend get mauled by a bear at the exact same time I found out he'd fucked my sister."
I winced. "Fair enough."
"You humiliated Charlotte and now you're both like, oh, water under the bridge," he went on. "She's falling for it because she doesn't have the self-esteem to tell you how fucked up that is."
It seemed a little unfair to hold me accountable for things I’d said during a bear attack, but I let him continue spilling out the emotions that had been accumulating since that day. Even though we'd been in contact again for a while, there had been no denying the latent tension surrounding this whole Charlotte situation.
He’d shocked me with the allegation that I was somehow taking advantage of her lack of self-esteem. It was difficult to believe that such a confident person didn’t have a good opinion of herself.
Scott went on. “She acts like she’s tough and that everything rolls off her back. And it’s very cool and it draws people in, but it’s not who she is. It’s an apology to the world for existing, and I hate that I’m the cause.”
“Because of the bone marrow thing,” I said, the pieces coming together.
“Exactly. She’s eager to please everyone because she feels like she let us all down. And there’s nothing I can do to make it right.” He let out a long, sad breath. “Look, she and I both found out about it at the same time, and it messed us both up.”
That was a part of the story I’d certainly never heard. “Wait, you guys didn’t know?”
“We were never supposed to find out.” He scoffed. “Why would anyone tell a kid that?”
“Somebody told you.”
“Yeah.” The memory hung like a weight from his voice. “It was a stupid thing a relative said in front of us because they thought we knew, too. I don’t know why they would think that. But Charlotte was eight when she found out.”
I hissed in sympathy, not only for Scott, but for Charlotte. I knew too well what it was like to have something shatter one’s childhood innocence.
But that was also in the vault. I’d never told Scott or anyone else. And I wouldn’t, now.
“She’s twenty-five,” Scott went on. “Do you remember what it was like to be twenty-five?”
“Yeah, nobody had to rush me to the ER because I opened a door too enthusiastically or sneezed with my head turned.” It wasn’t the time to be flippant but the turn in the conversation had unnerved me. This was not a standard over-protective brother. This was an angle of my friendship with Charlotte that I’d never considered. “I know there’s baggage there. I didn’t realize how serious. But again, Charlotte and I are friends. We can talk about this.”