Page 182 of Five Brothers

“We’ve rarely seen each other since,” I tell him. “As heartbroken as she was, and desperate to be at peace from what she was going through, she was the glue. Maybe she thought the same thing you did—what your mom did—that she was saving all of us the pain. Saving us from dealing with her. Saving us the heartache of her heartache, but … her life was more important than she knew.” I don’t cry about it anymore, but it’s hard not to imagine what life would be like—what my mom would be like—if my grandmother knew how much she was loved. “Our family fell apart aftershe was gone. She wasn’t a burden or weak. She was so important to us.”

I look over at him. “No one can tell you that you have to stay.” I can’t help the tears that fall. “No one knows how it feels, and you’re not alive just to save everyone else from themselves.”

It takes a minute to calm myself, because I want to tell him that he has to stay.What will we do without you? You have to take care of them.

That’s all that’s kept him here this far, and it’s not working anymore.

All I can say is what I know for sure. “There will be hard days, Macon. There will be more days like this. When it really hurts to stand up. To face people.”

I want to touch him—his hand, something—but I hold back.

“But there will be days that no one can touch,” I whisper. “There will be days when you’ll be the strongest one in the room, and they wouldn’t have made it through without you. There will be kids and road trips and hunkering down for hurricanes with our beer and movies and food fights and babies and ice cream in coffee cups.”

His head turns just a little, and I can see his eyes.

“And early mornings in warm beds,” I say, “when the rain and wind chimes are going and you’re holding her, and these feelings right now are so far away and you can’t stop kissing her. You’ll love being alive.”

His eyes close, like it’s a memory and she’s real and he wants her.

I hold the inside of his elbow, and finally, he looks down at me. His brown eyes shimmer, the whites now red, but God, he looks younger than Trace in this moment.

“I hate you seeing me like this,” he says barely above a whisper.

I give him a half smile and tell him again, “You can let one person see you like this.” And I rest my cheek against his shoulder. “I have a steel stomach.”

Time passes, the tiny bit of sunlight in the room moves across the floor, and I get him out of the shower and into some jeans. I block out light, turn on a fan to drown out noise, and change into one of his T-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants before lying on the bed with him. Hugging the pillow to my body, I face him and he faces me, and I watch him long after he falls asleep. The guys come home, kids’ laughter drifts up the stairs and through the door along with the smell of pizza, and I want him to eat, but I’m not going to wake him up. He needs to sleep for a week.

Water runs, bath time, kids in bed, no one disturbs Macon’s room, and I wake again, turning over to see that it’s after eleven at night. The house is quiet. I lean in close, the warmth of his body lighting a buzz under my skin. He sleeps, and I climb out of bed as gently as possible, leaving the room.

Downstairs, I find the rooms empty, and when I step into the kitchen I see only Army sitting at the table in the dark. He nurses a glass of whiskey.

I pull out a chair and sit down, looking at him even though he won’t look at me.

“That story you told me,” I ask, “about the man who wanted to pay you and Macon to have sex with his wife …”

He doesn’t move.

“Macon did it, didn’t he?”

Army turns the glass on the table, his jaw flexing as he stares at it.

“You couldn’t. You left,” I say. “He stayed.”

The fact that he’s not saying anything is enough of an answer.

So much makes sense now.

“That’s why he barely steps foot in the Bay.” My mind whirls.

“Why he never attended Liv’s games.”

I knew she tried to act like she understood, but she didn’t. How could she? She had no idea the shit he was carrying around.

Army takes a sip of his drink. “Doing what you have to in orderto survive isn’t noble if your soul can’t survive you,” he states. “Macon knows that now.”

I stand up. “He had no choice but to be capable of everything, Army.” I gaze down at him. “And you banked on that with every step you took away from that house when you left him behind.”

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