Page 102 of Left on Read
My jaw dropped.
“He always takes the day hard. He shuts everyone and everything out. I’m the only one he wants to be around, yet he went to spend the day with you.”
My mind reeled at Zane’s revelation. He’d come to me for comfort and not his twin?
“Go ahead. Say whatever you’re thinking. I can see the question marks in your eyes.”
“I had no idea. He doesn’t really talk about them…not being here,” I said carefully.
“You mean he’s never told you how they died?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t ask?—”
“It’s fine.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s not a secret or anything. Riv just has a hard time talking about it, and he doesn’t like burdening people with his emotions.”
That was one thing we had in common.
“Our mother was diagnosed with ALS when we were twelve. It progressed quickly, and she passed when we were fourteen. A year later, Dad went for a walk and never came home. The police told us it was an accident. We know it wasn’t. He chose to leave us because he couldn’t handle his grief over losing Mom.”
I hadn’t known what to expect, but that sure as hell hadn’t been it.
“Riv was the last person to see either of our parents alive.” He looked away, his eyes on the far wall. “He spent years beating himself up for not saying goodbye to Mom and not stopping Dad from going out that day. He blames himself for what Dad did.”
My jaw dropped for the second time.
“And instead of being mad that Mom was taken from us or pissed that Dad chose to abandon us, he turned that anger toward himself.” He slid his gaze back to mine. “He doesn’t handle loss well. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as big as our parents dying a year apart or as small as a new friend getting sick of him. It hurts him on a visceral level. He’s spent his entire life being rejected because he’s different. But instead of directing his pain toward the people who’ve hurt him, he internalizes it and punishes himself because the world told him he’s unlovable. That he isn’t good enough and isn’t worth anything.”
“That’s not true. He’s worth everything!”
Zane's mouth turned up in a small smile, and not his usual smirk-smile. “That’s why you’re still around. You see him for who he is.”
“I do.” I nodded emphatically. “He’s the most incredible person I’ve ever known.”
“He is. But you have to understand he’s not just the happy-go-lucky guy he shows the world. He needs someone who can ground him. Someone who can help him work through the things that make living in a world that wasn’t designed for him so hard.
“My brother has a pure heart, and he’s been hurt a lot in his life. He’s too trusting and always wants to see the good in people, and we both know there are plenty of assholes out there who prey on people like Riv. He’s a people pleaser. He puts his needs and feelings aside because at the end of the day, he just wants everyone to be happy, even if it hurts him.”
“Yeah. He’s told me some stories.”
“Trust me when I say he’s only told you the minor shit.”
Giving in to my nerves, I fiddled with my sleeves, pulling them down over my hands to give myself an outlet for some of the anxious energy flowing through me.
“Did Riv tell you how we had to move here to live with our aunt and uncle after Dad died? What they did to us?”
I nodded. He’d told me plenty about how they’d blown through their parents’ trust and kicked the twins out when they were eighteen with nothing when they should have been set for life.
“Those were rough years. We had to deal with all that shit on top of losing our parents, our home, our friends, school. Everything we’d ever known. That’s why we learned parkour when we moved here. He needed an outlet for his rage. Something physical he could fixate on and use to channel his emotions because he couldn’t process all that loss. It’s why we dance, why we go to the gym and work so many hours. He needs those routines to feel safe and in control of his life.
“It’s why he draws. His art is his therapy. It’s the only thing that calms him, and it helps him process his feelings and thoughts. I’ve always said that if you want to truly understand my brother, all you need to do is look in his sketchbook.”
I tugged on my sleeves, pulling them lower over my hands. I’d noticed his need for routines and outlets for his energy when we’d first started hanging out, but I hadn’t realized just how deep his trauma went. How much he’d been through.
“He’s good at hiding when he’s in pain until it takes over and consumes him. You’ve seen it. The meltdowns and the outbursts when it’s too much for him?”
I nodded. It didn’t happen often, but seeing him break down over something that, to anyone else, would seem like a minor inconvenience was a stark reminder that River really was a master at hiding his pain until he couldn’t handle it anymore.
“He’s always done everything he can to hide them from everyone in his life except me. Now you’re the person he goes to when he needs help. I hope you understand what a huge thing that is. How important you are to him and how much he trusts you.”