Page 45 of Sweet Surrender

“This is inconvenient at best,” he says so softly it’s barely audible. No doubt he didn’t want us to hear it.

He never wants us to hear it anymore. Not since he got his new wife and had his two new kids and a life Nathaniel and I wish we had.

“You’re not separating us,” I say, stomping my feet for emphasis and throwing Nathaniel’s warning that we’re supposed to be quiet out the window. “You can’t take me and leave him here. You don’t know . . .” how bad it gets here. The last five words scream in my head but never make a sound in the room.

I can’t say that in front of Mom.

I can’t let her know how bad she gets when she doesn’t even know it herself.

But he knows, doesn’t he? He lived here so how can he not know?

“I don’t know what?” Dad asks, squatting down and turning his attention on me for the first time since the initial stuttered hug and ruffle of my hair. “That you’re a handful? That you act out in school constantly? I get the calls from the office too, Jase. Believe me.”

“But you never take the call, do you?” I ask. “When’s the last time you picked me up?”

“I’m busy working to help provide all of this for you. I can’t just leave work at a moment’s notice because you can’t control yourself.”

“Control myself?” I ask through eyes blurring with tears. Nathaniel tugs on my arm, a silent plea for me to let it go.

“Yes. Do you think I can have you at my house when you act out like this? I don’t want you rubbing off on my kids.”

“We are your kids,” I say.

His Adam’s apple bobs. “You know what I mean.”

Yes. You mean you don’t want us as your kids anymore. “You don’t want us. It’s why you left,” I whisper. Begging. Pleading. Hating.

I hate that he left us so why do I still want him to pick me up from school?

His ice-blue eyes meet my gaze. I wish I understood what they were telling me. But before I can get a grasp on it, he looks at Nathaniel. “Grab your stuff. We need to get going.”

I don’t know who gasps louder—me or Nathaniel—but it’s the only sound in the room other than my heart pounding in my ears.

My brother doesn’t look at me as he bends over and loops his duffle bag through his hand.

And to think we both packed, thinking we would both be going to live with him.

“Nathaniel,” I whisper.

He still doesn’t look.

“Nate?”

Our dad steps in between us and brusquely takes the bag from Nathaniel before putting his hand on my brother’s back and pushing him toward the front door.

“See you in a few weeks, Jase,” my dad says without looking over his shoulder.

“Nate!” I shout.

My brother glances over his shoulder and meets my eyes.

Why aren’t you speaking up? Why aren’t you fighting for me? I’m your brother.

Why is Dad leaving me here? With my crazy mom?

Why isn’t Nate trying to get me to go with him?

“I get the calls from the office too, Jase. Believe me. I can’t just leave work at a moment’s notice because you can’t control yourself.”