Page 95 of Always Love You More

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Hold on, sorry.”

I wait a few seconds as he clearly pulls the phone away from his ear, so I only catch the tail end of his response. “—right there.” He clears his throat, his voice closer this time. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I answer quietly.

“Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” I exhale, stubbing my cigarette out. “There’s nothing I can say. It is what it is.”

He’s quiet for so long that the only way I know the call didn’t disconnect is the sound of him breathing.

“Jamie?”

“This is what I was talking about. You shouldn’t have to … I don’t know. You just shouldn’t have to …”

“But I will,” I tell him. “I’m not going anywhere, but I’m also not gonna to lie to you and pretend this is easy.”

“No,” he says. “You never have to pretend with me.”

“Neither do you.”

“I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” I cut in. “You tell me you’re fine when you’re clearly not.”

“I just …” He pauses. “I’ve never …”

“I know,” I answer. “But you can’t keep it all in, and if this is gonna work, you can’t keep me out.”

There’s a long stretch of silence before he finally says, “Then you can’t either.”

“I can’t what?”

“Keep me in the dark.”

“I—”

“I know there are things you struggle with,” he says softly. “If I give you my baggage, you have to give me yours, too, balance out the weight.”

His words hit me.Balance out the weight.

“Okay,” I breathe. “I will.”

Another distant sound comes from his side of the line, and he curses under his breath. “I really have to go. You sure you’re all right?”

“I wasn’t,” I respond, “but I’m better now.” I press the phone to my ear, as if that’ll somehow make me closer to him. “Are you?”

“No,” he says and I think that might be the first time he’s ever answered that question honestly. “But I’m better now, too. Talking to you makes me better.”

“I’m always here.”

“I know, baby, thanks,” he says. “All right, talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later,” I answer before the line goes dead.

I set my phone down beside me but stay perched on my desk with the window cracked until bright headlights break through the darkness and pull into my driveway. A car door slams shut before I see my brother trudge up to the house.

After shutting the window, I slide off the desk and move into the hallway, peering over the ledge of the staircase.