Page 132 of Pretty Thing

“What truth? What the hell is the truth?”

His face is the picture of dejection.

“Sam was in the car with me, but not in the way I let you believe.”

I shake my head. “What does that mean?”

“I wasn’t taking Sam’s death very well. He was fifteen and very angry with me. He needed someone to blame for Dad being in prison, then Mum suddenly died, and I became the focus of his anger. We fought a lot. As much as we loved each other, he was very bitter.”

Felix stops and looks up at the ceiling, like it holds the words he can’t seem to find. When his eyes finally meet mine again, there is so much raw emotion it takes my breath away.

“I lived through what Travis did to me, but Sam grew up thinking his dad was misunderstood, a fantasy he concocted in his mind.” Felix crosses his arms. “I finally gave in and took him to the prison to see our father. Travis laughed in his face. He thought it was amusing that Sam was defending him. Travis called Sam a loser and other shit. Sam didn’t handle it well. I expected it. I know what a piece of shit my father is, but not Sam.”

He swallows, and his body starts to tremble.

“I saw him spiraling, but he refused to listen to me. He started taking off in the middle of the night. Short of chaining him up, I couldn’t keep him home. So, when he asked to go to the party three weeks later, I was shocked, but fucking ecstatic that he actually asked. He seemed ready to…I don’t know…find common ground again. So, I said yes. Biggest fucking mistake of my life.”

Felix stands and starts pacing.

“But I should’ve known. I should’ve known that he was susceptible to shit without thinking it through. Some rando offers a blunt, and he just takes it without a second thought? He knew better. I taught him better.”

He hits his chest. The agony he feels over this brother bleeds into every word.

“The fucking joint was laced, and he died, just like that. I get a call that my brother is dead. I was…I am devastated. I blame myself, Eden. I should’ve been paying closer attention. I should’ve followed him or something to keep him safe. I was his older brother, the only parent figure in his life, and I let him down.”

His voice shakes as his eyes find mine.

“So why lie to me?” My voice is soft, and most of the anger has faded. “Why did you think I wouldn’t understand?”

He swallows hard.

“Please don’t think I’m fucked up.”

I tilt my head.

“Felix, I’m pretty sure I’m the walking definition of fucked up right now. Just tell me.”

When he gets close to me this time, I don’t move away. I hate that there are tears in his eyes.

“Sam was in the car…I had his ashes. I was on my way home from Uncle Jim’s place. Sam loved going there, so we spread half of the ashes in the forest. I had the urn in the passenger seat. It tipped over, and I reached for it. That’s when the crash happened.”

He stops and closes his eyes.

“I saw the red brake lights too late. The road was so slick. I swerved to the shoulder where I was rear-ended by another car. That pushed mine into the guy in front of me. The urn flew into the windshield and shattered. It exploded, and the rest of his ashes went everywhere.” Felix stares down at his hands. “I had his ashes all over me. The last bit of my brother was gone. I’d been taking him with me everywhere since his death, talking to him like he was still here.”

Felix looks up, and the anguish in his eyes mirrors what I feel, and for the first time since the accident, I actually sense the sorrow in him.

“I’m sorry I lied. At the crash, I was wandering between the cars, completely out of it. Then I heard you yelling. Your scream for help snapped me out of the daze I was in, and it didn’t exactly seem like the thing to bring up. By the time we left the hospital, I had no idea how to tell you that it was his ashes that I lost, not his physical body.”

Felix licks his lips.

“I told you that I needed you as much as you needed me, and I wasn’t lying, Eden. I was so lost. I’ve been trying to hold my life together for so long, but when I’m with you…I’m not alone. I was terrified that if you found out, you’d think I was insane, or worse…you’d no longer want me around.”

He suddenly drops to his knees, arms wrapping around my waist as he hugs me. But it is the soul-crushing sob that has me holding his head to my stomach and letting him cry.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I say as his body jerks.

All I can picture is six-year-old Felix locked in a tiny closet. My heart not only aches for him, but I feel protective. The fact that he was scared to tell me something so personal hurts only because his default is to hide it from the world, but I’m not the world.