Page 14 of Say You'll Stay
Each breath is a battle, my lungs straining against the weight of my transgressions. I am adrift, a specter haunting the city, a man with no home, no purpose, no future - only this all-consuming fixation that consumes my every waking moment.
The sound of my phone ringing shatters the suffocating silence, jolting me back to reality. I fumble for the device, my heart leaping into my throat as I see Judith’s name flashing on the screen.
“Jude,” I answer, my voice raw and ragged. “What’s up?”
“Oh, you know, just checking in on my baby brother,” she says, her tone forcibly light. “Making sure you haven’t drowned yourself in a bottle of scotch or something equally dramatic.”
I let out a humorless chuckle, running a hand through my hair. “Not yet,” I say, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. “But the night is young.”
Judith’s voice, buoyant and commanding, flows from the speaker, an immediate balm to the chaos that’s been my constant companion these days. “Your only sister just got back from vacation. I miss you Junie, get your mopey ass over to the estate.”
I grumble into the phone, though the edge of my irritation is already dulling, tempered by the genuine warmth in Judith’s laugh. “It’ll be fun, plus I can tell you my game plan,” she adds, already knowing I’m never going to pass up an opportunity to see her.
Judith. My sister, my rock, my constant in a world that seems to shift and change with every passing moment. If anyone can understand, can help me find my way back to the light, it’s her.
I climb the steps with leaden feet, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I raise my hand to knock, but before my knuckles can graze the wood, the door swings open, revealing Judith’s worried face.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words won’t come. They stick in my throat, choking me, drowning me in a sea of my own shame and regret.
But Judith, my beautiful, perceptive sister, seems to understand without me having to say a word. She reaches out, her arms enveloping me in a hug that feels like absolution, like forgiveness, like home.
And there, in the warmth of my sister’s embrace, with the weight of my sins pressing down on me like a physical thing, I finally let myself break. The tears come, hot and fast, spilling down my cheeks in a torrent of grief and relief.
I cling to Judith like a drowning man, my face buried in the crook of her neck, my body shaking with the force of my sobs. And she holds me, her hands rubbing soothing circles on my back, her voice a constant murmur of comfort and love.
“I’ve got you,” she whispers, her words a lifeline in the darkness. “I’ve got you, June. And I’m never letting go.”
My body relaxes into the warmth of my sister’s anchoring love and I squeeze her tighter.
“Look Drew, I think it’s working. He’s starting to melt a bit.” she teases, leading me into the heart of the house. “Is my warmth not sufficient to thaw that icy heart?”
“You missed your calling as a comedian,” I shoot back, but the corners of my mouth betray me, curving into an unwilling smile.
There he is, Drew, lounging like some sort of GQ model reject, drink in hand. He’s the picture of relaxed charm, unlike the tension I carry like a second skin.
I accept the drink, if only to have something to do with my hands. “To better navigation and surviving family gatherings,” I counter, earning an eye roll from Judith and a puzzled look from Drew.
We settle into an uneasy rhythm, the air filled with Judith’s vibrant stories of sun, sand, and the kind of adventures that seem to follow her like devoted puppies. I listen, half-amused, half-envious of her ability to dive headfirst into life’s waves while I’m still floundering in the shallows.
Then, as the sun sets, painting the sky with strokes of fire and gold, Judith’s tone shifts, the weight of her next words hanging heavily between us.
“I talked to Mom,” she begins, her gaze locking with mine, a silent warning of the conversation’s gravity. “About you, about… choices.”
I stiffen, the familiar surge of defiance rising within me. “And what did the queen decree?”
Judith reaches out, her hand gripping mine, a rare display of vulnerability. “I made a deal with her. I’ll marry whoever she wants,” she says, her voice steady, but her eyes betraying the cost of her decision. “But only if she lets you be free, June. Free to choose, to love, whoever you want.”
The world tilts, the magnitude of her sacrifice rendering me speechless. “Judith, you can’t—”
“I can, and I will,” she interrupts, her resolve as clear as the Caribbean waters she’s just left behind. “Because, Junebug, I want you to be happy, more than anything.”
“But, Judith, I…” The words trail off, the enormity of her sacrifice rendering me speechless.
“No buts,” she interrupts, her voice softening. “Look, June, I don’t know all the ins and outs of what’s going on with you and Cara, but I know you. And this,” she gestures vaguely, encompassing the estate, our life, “isn’t you.”
The simplicity of her words, the clarity of her perspective, cuts through the fog that’s been suffocating me. In this grand, oppressive home, Judith remains my anchor, the reminder of who I am beneath the Deveaux name.
Drew, who’s been silently observing, finally speaks up, his voice grating on my already frayed nerves. “Sounds like a fair deal to me, man. Your sister’s taking one for the team.”