Page 98 of All Our Nevers

“I hate how much it changed between us,” I admit. “Even if it’s my fault. You turned into this rigid, organized, quiet kid. And I mean, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, I just wish it wasn’t… out of necessity. I wish I could've protected you from the consequences.”

At that, Andy sits up straighter, looking me in the eye. “Listen to yourself. You were thirteen when dad left and you felt like it was your job to protect me from the truth. You were a kid, too.”

My laugh is a pitiful, dry thing.

“And you realize it fucked you up as much as it fucked me up, right?”

“Obviously,” I say down to the grass.

A family walks past us along the river path. Two parents, two kids. High-pitched laughter and rosy cheeks.

“The shelters,” he says. “This is why.”

I nod. The small penance I’ve found for myself.

Andy sits cross-legged, letting his head fall into his hands.

“I can’t do anything right,” I say quietly, to the river. “I’m always hurting people or watching them get hurt. My whole life. And I don’t think I can do it with Lia. She deserves better than what I can give her.”

He says, “You’re wrong.”

“What?”

He’s shaking his head, muttering to himself, “Anxious avoidant motherfucker.”

“You psychoanalyzing me right now, asshole?”

A half-smile tempts the corner of his mouth, but he’s blunt as a rock as he says. “This isn't the first time you've pulled away from a relationship.”

“That's my point,” I say. “I know I'm a jerk. That's literally what I'm saying. I'm trying to get out before I can do something that really hurts her.”

“No, that's...” Andy takes a deep breath, then two, before he looks over to me. “You know I'm not good at this stuff, so can you give me the benefit of the doubt for a minute? This is my first draft of all this.”

I nod, cautiously offering him the floor.

“You're obviously scared of becoming dad, but it's like it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Not that I—I don't think you're like dad. At all. But you're so scared of hurting people...” He pauses again, reorienting himself. “It's like you choose to keep people at arm's length so you never have a chance to actually disappoint them. You're taking yourself out of the game. You see that right? You used to do it with me—-not that I'm innocent, I know I'm not easy to get along with. But even now. You do it with your parade of casual dates, you've barely made a single friend since moving to Boston, and now that Lia forced her way into your life by sheer willpower you're trying to do it to her, too. You’ve gotta let people into your life who want to be there. Don't punish yourself for something you haven't done.”

His words have emotion building behind my eyes, in my throat and my jaw.

“I can't watch her get hurt,” I murmur. “It’ll kill me.”

“You want to protect her. And I get that,” he says, “there’s some scary shit happening with her right now. But she doesn’t want a protector.”

My head tilts. “How much do you know about the… what’s happening with her?”

“Not all the details, but she told Sophie a bit. The stuff with Connor, right?”

“Is that his name?” I ask.

“The guy from college, yeah.”

I shake my head, looking to the sky. “Is it unreasonable to want to keep her safe? Is it controlling or is it the bare minimum? I feel like I don’t know anymore. My moral compass is all fucked.”

“Your moral compass is fucked because morality is subjective and the situation is fucked.”

That makes me laugh, and I meet his eyes fully. Our mom’s eyes, the comfort there.

“You can just be her friend, you know,” Andy says. “Or her… partner, whatever you are to each other. You don’t have to assume some over-inflated protector role. If you treat her like a partner, you’re protecting that spark that makes her who she is.”