Page 172 of What We Break
"Blake..."
"No, listen. Covert ops, specialized missions - I had a purpose. Structure. Brotherhood." His voice gets steadier, more sure. "Jared and I, we thrived in that world. We knew who we were, what we were supposed to do."
The way he talks about it scares me. Not nostalgic — hungry. Like he's been starving for something civilian life can't feed him.
I can't lose him.
I can't get some phone call that he's missing. Can't answer the door one morning and find dress uniforms on the other side, asking for next of kin.
I can't be all alone.
I fucking can't.
"That was different. You were younger, and Jared was there."
"Exactly. Jared was there." Blake sets the bottle down hard. "We had each other's backs. We were part of something that mattered. Out here?" He gestures around the workshop. "I fix old wood for rich people. That's it. That's everything I have going for me."
"The work you do matters."
"No, it fucking doesn't." He drops his head back against the headrest. "Some days I can't remember why I got out in the first place."
"You got out because Jared got blown to fucking bits."
Blake stops cold, pain flashing across his face. Good. I need him to wake the fuck up and see there's no way he can re-enlist. But the fucker's not listening. "Maybe that was the only right thing I've ever done. Maybe it's better if I go back."
"Blake, no. For fuck's sake, that life, those missions - that's what killed him."
"And this life is what's killing me." Blake's voice cracks slightly. "Slowly, maybe, but still."
The pain in his voice hits me like a punch to the gut. I've been so caught up in being happy with Laine that I didn't see how much Blake was struggling. How lonely he's been.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this."
"Like what?"
"Like me abandoning you for a girl."
Blake's laugh is hollow. "You didn't abandon me, Reid. You grew up. You found someone who makes you happy. That's what's supposed to happen."
"But not at your expense."
"Everything comes at someone's expense."
The resignation in his voice scares me more than the anger did.
This is Blake giving up. I don't know how to fight that. I've never seen this version of him. Didn't know it existed. Blake's always been Superman — cape on, boots laced, swooping in to haul the rest of us out of whatever wreckage we've made. He was the one picking up pieces. My pieces, mostly. I knew he was struggling with Jared's death too, but not like I was. He didn't crater. Didn't fall into the pit and set up camp down there the way I did.
So to see him heading there now?
Fucking terrifying.
"Don't re-enlist," I say. "Please. I know I've been shitty, but don't leave because of that."
"Why not?"
"Because I need you here. Because this house isn't home without you in it. Because losing Jared almost killed me, and losing you too..." I stop, trying to find the right words. "I can't do it again, Blake. I can't lose another brother."
Blake stares at his hands, letting the silence stretch between us. When he looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed but clearer than they were before.
