Page 101 of She’s Worth the Risk

He chuffs a surprised laugh. “I’m just joking around, Nick. You’re my brother. You should know that.”

Who do you think you are, da Vinci?

My neck heats as I think of that night. How hilarious he found it, how hard he howled with laughter, at my expense.

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t find your sense of humor funny,” I mutter.

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Come on, man. Learn to take a joke.”

“Or maybe you should learn not to humiliate the people you claim to care about,” I bite back.

His smile vanishes. “What?”

Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that.

“Never mind,” I backtrack, face hot as I take a long pull from my beer.

He twists to face me squarely on the stool. “What are you talking about?”

My breath trickles out, and I gaze at him evenly. He seems truly puzzled by my words, and I shake my head.

“You really don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

I could brush it off. Say it’s nothing, and let sleeping dogs lie. Only this has been eating away at me for a long time. It took meeting Zinnia for me to realize how much it affected me. How the resentment burned a hole in my gut.

But as resentful as I am, as angry as I feel toward Marcus for what he took from me, I also feel something else. Something unfamiliar. I realize I want my brother in my life. I want to let him in. And I can’t do that if I don’t confront the hurt he caused me. The hurt he still causes me, to this day.

“I know you don’t respect my work.”

Marcus’s brows slash together, and he opens his mouth to speak, but I continue, needing to get this off my chest.

“You’ve never respected my love of art. The night you found my sketchbook…” My throat thickens, and it’s an effort to push the words out. “I cared about your opinion, did you know that? I’d always looked up to you. And you just… you laughed.” I take a deep breath, forcing my gaze to my brother’s shocked face. “I’ve never felt as humiliated as I did at that moment. I didn’t pick up a sketchbook again for…” I swallow. “For a very long time.”

Marcus stares at me in disbelief. “I didn’t… Fuck, Nick, I don’t…”

“Do you remember?” I ask, realizing for the first time that he might not even recall the incident. The moment that shifted the trajectory of my life probably didn’t even register for him, that’s how insignificant it was.

But he nods, dragging a hand down his face with a heavy exhale. “I do, but… Shit, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” He shakes his head. “I was exhausted from months of not sleeping. Residency was so fucking intense, and I felt like I was crumbling under the pressure. I thought about quitting every day.”

I stare at my brother in shock. Marcus—calm, composed, capable Marcus—wanted to quit?

“It was so great to see you that night,” he adds hoarsely, grip tightening on his beer. “I’d missed you since moving out, and… honestly, I was stunned by your sketches.” He laughs, but it’s an uncomfortable sound. “Maybe even a little threatened. You could do things I’d never be able to do. You saw the body in ways I never had. It was… it was confronting to see your talent, while I felt like I was drowning.”

Emotion clogs my throat as I process my brother’s words. He didn’t think my drawings were stupid. He thought they were good. This entire time I thought he considered me a joke, but really… he admired me.

“I’m an asshole,” Marcus says, hanging his head. “I should have dealt with my own shit instead of projecting it onto you. I didn’t know that was the reason you stopped drawing. Fuck, if I had…” His eyes are ringed with misery as he brings them to mine. “You should know, I do respect your work. You’re a fucking tenured professor, Nick. I might not understand why you love art so much, but I respect that you love it. I respect your success in your field.”

Something eases in my chest as I gaze at him. Years of bitterness I’d kept tucked away in there, without even realizing. All those moments I looked at my sketchbooks and couldn’t pick them up. Every time I hesitated to share about my work. The nonexistent relationship with my brother, the one I needed more than I realized.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, man. I’m sorry.” His eyes swim with regret. “I wish you’d told me this sooner. I would have apologized years ago.”

“I didn’t realize it myself,” I reply, thinking of that conversation with Zinnia during the blackout. The one where I told her it didn’t bother me, and she said she didn’t believe me. I don’t even think you believe it, she’d said. “Zinnia made me see it.”

Marcus arches an amused brow. “Is that why she looked as though she wanted to punch me in Joe’s?”