Page 78 of Quiet Obsession
“Do you know what happened?”
He nods, squeezing his eyes shut. “I should’ve paid more attention,” he grits out, voice laced with so much guilt it hits me right in the chest. “I should’ve paidanyattention. I should’ve stopped pushing her away and fucking listened.”
He reaches out, curling her hair over her ear, fingers lingering on her cheek, and then he leans back in the armchair, eyes cast downward, avoiding mine, a faint sheen of pink blooming high on his cheekbones.
“I’ve never paid attention to her,” he says. “If I could get away, I did. I fucking hated her, Creed.”
I swallow hard, the confession making sense and none at all. I guessed their relationship was strained, given he’s never mentioned her name.
This must’ve been weighing on him for a long time. He sounds like he wants to get it off his chest, but is held back by shame and fear, so I nudge.
“Why?”
He looks up, eyes haunted. “When she was seven, she was diagnosed with cancer. She spent almost two years in and out of the hospital getting treatment. Doctors didn’t give her much chance. When they first diagnosed her, they said she had less than six months to live.”
He looks down again, picking at his nails. “My parents were devastated. They poured every ounce of their energy into Millie. They put their life... our lives...mylifeon hold, bouncing from one doctor to another.”
He swallows hard, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “It was as if they forgot I existed. Everything revolved around Millie, and for a long time I tried to understand. She was sick, she’d probably die, of course they’d focus on her... but the longer it went on, the more invisible I felt.”
My hands ball in and out of fists because I can relate. Our situations are very different, but I understand better than anyone what neglect and lack of interest feel like. What it does to a child. What it did to Hyde and me when we were left to fend for ourselves without support systems.
“And then she got better,” he says. “Two years, numerous chemo treatments, some experimental drugs, and she was in remission.”
He drops his hands, glancing at his sister, then at me. “I was so fucking happy... for all the wrong reasons. I didn’t care that she was going to live, I was just glad my parents would finally notice me. They’d remember they had a son who needed them as well.”
He scoffs. “I was so fucking wrong. Nothing changed. If anything, things got worse. I was the spare. Millie could get away withanything. She’d sneeze and my parents would be damn near catatonic with worry. But even if I was lying in bed with a fever, sick as a dog, they’d say, ‘You’ll be fine; your sister beat cancer; you can deal with a cold.’”
The resentment in his voice cuts me deep. It hits close to home, and I hate that all these years I’ve known Hyde I’ve never dug deeper. Never asked, always giving him the space he’s demanded.
“I acted out, not unlike you. Fights, girls, drugs. Anything to get my parents’ attention because it only showed up when I did stupid shit.”
He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “I chose Gravemont so I could get far away from Millie. And then you came into our dorm, and it was like looking in a mirror. I could tell we were alike, that you’d been cast aside, unwanted, forgotten, but when you looked at me, you saw me. You were there for me. You always fucking chose me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“I was scared,” he admits, voice tight. “I was scared you’d think less of me and leave.”
“You’ve seen me at my lowest, Hyde.” I rest both elbows on my knees. “And you never turned your back on me. Not once. There’s nothing, absolutely fucking nothingthat’d make me think less of you. I know what it feels like when you’re stripped raw. I can relate. I’ve fucked up more times than I can count and this...” My throat collapses as my eyes swing to his sister. “You should never forgive me, but—”
“This isn’t your fault, Creed,” he cuts in. “I could’ve answered the phone, but I didn’t want to.”
My mouth closes, thoughts cascading through my mind.
“I should’ve noticed you were hiding shit,” I finally say. “Maybe if I had, everything would be different, but I’ve been fucking selfish, hoarding you and the fact you give a shit about me, so no, I’m not blameless. I’ve failed you. And I fucking swear I’ll never do that again, but you need to talk to me, Hyde. I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
“Yeah, I know.” He hides his face in his palms.
He’s silent for a long time. I have no idea what’s going through his head, but I’ll do anything to get him through this.
A doctor comes in, checks Millie’s vitals, reads the chart, and pats Hyde on the shoulder on his way out. There’s no improvement. She’s still as a statue, pale, unmoving, her blonde hair fanned out across her face.
Hyde grabs a small sponge on a stick and dips it in water to wet her lips. The care shining in his eyes is a gut-punch. I can already tell the guilt festering inside him will pinwheel his feelings toward Millie. He’ll redirect all that energy he’s put into keeping me from self-destructing toward his sister, and he’ll need a pillar to fall back on when things get too hard.
“Do you know why she did it?” I ask.
“Yeah, I know. I saw.”
My eyebrows bunch in the middle. “What do you mean?”
