Page 61 of Back for Seconds

I began worrying at my bottom lip. “And that’s when you bought the cabin.”

“Yep.”

“Ok, you bought a house. That’s great. That’s adulthood. And you did it on your own.”

“I bought the cabin without ever telling Amber about the cabin.”

“You just…came home one day and said, good news babe?”

“Worse. I came home and said, good news, babe. I know you’ve been wanting me to commit to our future, but I just drained my savings so I could commit to being my brother’s caregiver and live someplace I know you’ll hate.”

“You’re your brother’s caretaker?”

“Not officially. Not now.” Joey brought his fingers, steepled together, to rest against his lips. “But…one day.”

Suddenly, everything about Joey clicked into place. He’d never been an enigma, but I had to wonder why someone as charismatic, smart, and handsome as him had never, not even briefly, ventured off the island. His ambitions were certainly better suited for a bigger town, maybe even a city. But his attachment to his family—it was more than steadfast. It was his duty.

“You’re his protector. You always have been.”

Joey nodded. “It just happened that way. My parents were really busy. They needed help.”

“Amber knew that, Joey. She can act like she didn’t, but I’ve known you for a week and it’s clear to me as day.”

I could tell by the flush in his cheeks that I’d hit a nerve. I set down my fork and reached for his arm, curling my fingers around his forearm. Wow. Ok, strong as hell.

He peered at me from behind his fingers and for the first time, I noticed the moisture in his eyes.

“Right.” He gave my hand a pat and shook out his shoulders. “Right, ok.” He rolled his shoulders and blew out a breath. “He’s doing better than all of us right now, actually. He just graduated college; he’s got a corporate job lined up. He’s ten years younger than me—sixteen years younger than our oldest brother, Angel. My parents aren’t old, but they’re not young and…it’s a complicated disease. I just want everyone to know he’s going to be taken care of, no matter what. I want my mom to know that.”

I nodded briskly. “Duh.”

“But I used all that as an excuse to hide. Amber was fed up. Rightfully so, I think. I was pushing her away. I was being a coward.”

His self-awareness stunned me.

Did Brian ever think about what he did to me in those terms? Did he ever sit down and drop his head into his hands, reflecting on what he’d really done to me? Months of texting, emailing, sending selfies, sneaking away to talk on the phone. Bringing me around a woman I thought maybe was a friend, a new entry to our group. Could he see hurting me as a betrayal—or was I just a clueless, unfortunate barrier to his real love story?

I palmed my coffee cup. “Why couldn’t you just tell her how you felt?”

Joey closed his eyes, shook his head. “Because I was exhausted. I had nothing left to say. We’d spent the last year arguing until our throats were raw.”

“But no one wanted to pull the plug.” I took a quick sip of coffee. “Like my parents. Joey, why didn’t you guys just let one of those breakups stick?”

He stayed quiet for a moment. “Do you know what a glass child is?”

I shook my head no.

“It’s…it’s a term for a sibling of someone who has a disability or chronic illness. I had this therapist that would bring it up, every session. And it would actually piss me off, because I love my parents. I thought they did a great job. Anyway…the idea is, basically, our parents sort of saw through us and we were rewarded for being invisible. Glass children tend to have really fucking shitty boundaries.”

I inhaled sharply. Immediately, my thoughts jumped to Vin. Vin and Sal were close enough in age that they had been teenagers together, while I trailed a few years behind. Sal came with challenges that would have made the best parents in the world stumble.

He’d been a kid that struggled.

With drugs, with a learning disability, with the never-ending pressure from our dad to take over Genie’s and continue on the family legacy. He’d buckled under that weight, fallen to his knees, and somehow, still, managed to stand up again.

While Sal had discovered partying, Vin had been a straight-A student, president of the debate team, in bed by nine thirty no matter what. While my parents had spent hours screaming and arguing with Sal, begging him to think twice, Vin had silently excelled.

He’d wanted attention, hadn’t he? Why had I just assumed Vin was fine always being a secondary character in the Alfiero family drama?