Page 9

MY BROTHERS GIRL

AUGUST 2009 – 20 YEARS OLD

Faye turns her phone off after two more ignored calls from Holt. I want to press for her thoughts, but I’m honestly afraid of what she might say.

I don’t know where we go from here. Where she goes from here.

Where they go from here.

Holt doesn’t want kids. At least, he doesn’t want them yet.

But Faye is his world. He loves her as much, if not more, than he loves hockey.

Losing her will kill him.

Becoming a father might ruin him, though.

Fuck.

I look to Faye as we settle into our seats after finally getting through the drama of the pharmacy. She’s got a small bag with anti-nausea pills and a bottle of the best prenatal vitamins they had.

She’s going to make a great mom.

I fight back my wince at the thought, because unlike my brother, I could be ready for kids. In another life, one where she was mine, I’d be over the moon.

Instead, I feel like I’m struggling to suck in gasps of breath with the mountain that sits on my chest.

With what we came to Creekwood Valley do to out of the way, I could take her home and call it day.

I should take her home, but I don’t. I don’t want to. Not yet at least.

“You hungry?”

She looks at me, brows furrowed, eyes still rimmed red from all the emotions she’s spent over the last few hours. Probably over the last few days—or whenever it was she found out she was pregnant. It’s clear that wasn’t her first appointment.

I hate that she’s been going at it alone.

Holt should be here with her.

I feel like an imposter.

“I don’t know if I can eat.” She looks down to her stomach before looking back at me. “I get sick a lot.”

I gesture to her pills. “Maybe you should take one of those.”

She blinks down at the bag like she’s surprised it’s there in her lap. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I should.”

Faye pops the top off a bottle of pills, and I see her eyes settle on the half-full bottle of water in my cupholder. I don’t wait for her to ask before I hand it to her.

She murmurs, “Thank you.”

A different kind of pink spills into her cheeks. The sweet kind. The kind I like.

I try not to watch as she twists the cap from my bottle, placing a little white tablet on her tongue before bringing the bottle to her lips. She’s sharing my drink. Her lips are where my own have been. I suddenly feel parched.

I’m going to hell.

When Sweets comes into view, I don’t hesitate to swing into the parking lot. Faye looks at me, surprised.