Page 39 of Tell Me I'm Enough

He grins proudly, as if he built me himself. “He’s ready for it, been teaching him about responsibility since he could talk.”

I want to say,No, you’ve been teaching me fear since I could understand it,but I just nod.

We go over logistics and summer plans, then he talks to my dad, catching him up on the program’s progress and its impact on the company.

When we head back out of the building, my dad is already lecturing me about everything I did wrong in there, everything I need to be better at, everything I need to change, and everything I need to be prepared for.

I reply back automatically as my mind drifts to being back in Texas again. A place where I can pretend to be whoever I want and not just who someone expects me to be.

* * *

I tackle the boys into the grass, both of them squealing.

They pile on top of me, giggling, trying to pin me down.

“Not strong enough!” I tease, flipping them over. “You gotta eat more chicken nuggets if you wanna beat me!”

We’re all laughing so hard it hurts, and then, out of nowhere, Asher looks up at me, cheeks red from playing. “I want you to stay home with us, Dad.”

I freeze. The words hit like both a punch and a hug.

Easton corrects him quickly. “He’s Mason, dummy.”

Asher shrugs. “Sorry.”

I swallow hard and pull them both into my arms.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “I’m not Dad, buddy. But I love you, okay? Both of you. I always will.”

They nod, already distracted by the football rolling away.

I watch them chase it, laughter and screaming filling the space outside, and for a second, I just take them both in, wondering who they’ll become when they’re older, wondering if they have enough love to become the best versions of themselves. I wonder if being their big brother is enough, if loving them like this, fiercely and freely, is enough to make up for everything else I can’t fix.

They run back to me, jumping into my lap, sweaty and breathless. I fall onto the grass and laugh before counting, telling them to run before I can catch them.

I remember all the nights Asher would call me dad when I was in high school, watching them every night, feeding them,bathing them, reading to them, packing their lunches, and making sure their clothes were set out. I tried to correct him as much as I could, but I hated it every time. It always pulled at my heartstrings when he would do it.

I hate the bond my dad forced me to build with them. I hate that they feel like mine.

12

Mason

“Let’s go, Sinclair!” Coach yells. “You don’t get to spend your entire spring break getting wasted and come back sloppy just because the season is over!”

I groan behind my helmet.

I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I came back from Florida.

One of our running backs—Reese—smirks at me from the scrimmage line. “I saw some pictures of you on a boat with three girls and a pineapple drink that had a cute little umbrella in it.”

I shake my head at him. “There were onlytwogirls…and it was a coconut drink.”

We run a couple of plays, and my legs already feel like Jell-O. I’m forcing my head to be here, but my body is trying to give up early in training today.

I can’t seem to focus, and during one of our practice plays, I drop the ball on an easy catch.

“Do I need to keep you on the bench next season, Sinclair? What the hell are you doing? Get off my field until you can come back with your head on straight!”