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"Well, I thought you and Alex would be happy to see him," my mother said.
"Yeah, sure," I replied. This was the worst moment for Tristan’s homecoming. The day Alex and I had spent together yesterday had been fun and surprisingly eye-opening. And I had just started seeing Alex as my friend rather than some evil girl who hurt my brother. I wanted to keep things moving in that same direction. Tristan coming home did not sound conducive to that plan.
"Okay, well, I'll let you get back to work. I'll see you later," my mother, ending the call.
I sat there for a moment, trying to process the news. Tristan was coming home, and I had no idea what that meant for me and Alex. We'd been making progress in our relationship, but now everything felt up in the air.
It had been a long day. I decided to throw in the towel and head home. As I drove, my mind raced with questions. Why was Tristan coming back now? Would he be here long? Was he moving back, or was it just a visit? Would he get along with Alex?
When I got home, Alex was already there, sitting on the couch with a book in her lap. I was happy to see she wasn't shy about using the key I gave her. We had made plans for dinner at a new restaurant, but we obviously wouldn’t make it now. She looked up as I entered the room, and I could see the concern in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Tristan is coming home," I said, and I could hear the unease in my own voice.
"Tristan? Your brother?" she asked, clearly surprised.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"When?" she asked.
"Tonight," I replied.
Alex didn't say anything, but I could tell she was worried. I sat down next to her on the couch, and we were silent there together for a while.
"What does this mean for us?" Alex finally asked, breaking the silence.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I haven't seen Tristan in forever. I don't even know why he's coming back."
Alex looked at me with concern, and I could tell she was trying to be supportive. But I also knew that this was going to be a strain on our relationship. Tristan fell apart after his breakup with Alex, and I didn't know how he was going to react to seeing us together.
As the evening wore on, my anxiety grew. I tried to distract myself by focusing on the work I'd brought home, but I couldn't concentrate. Every sound outside made me jump. Alex tried speaking to me, but it was impossible for me to talk to her. She was the reason I felt anxious about meeting my own brother.
Images flashed through my mind of Tristan in a drunken stupor, stumbling in for the third night in a row. Alex had been gone by then, utterly uncaring about how her actions affected him.
Finally, there was a knock on the door, and my heart leaped into my throat. I got up and opened the door to reveal Tristan standing on the other side.
And there was my brother's familiar face. He looked as stoic as ever, wearing a leather jacket and dark jeans, his dark hair slicked back. It was a relief to see him looking good, better than I had expected, but then it had been a long time and we'd drifted apart. I knew nothing about his life.
"Christian," he said, nodding at me before entering the house.
"Hey, Tristan. Good to see you," I said, leaning in for a bear hug. It had always been our thing. Even when he was so far gone, too far gone to care about anything, Tristan had always made time for a bear hug.
He pushed away, and looked around the room, settling his gaze on Alex.
"Alex," he said, his voice low and even.
"Tristan," she replied, looking up from her book.
The tension in the room was palpable, and I could feel the awkwardness radiating off of Tristan. I didn’t want him uncomfortable, and I couldn't help but wonder if he still loved Alex and if that was part of the reason for his discomfort.
"So, Tristan, what brings you back to town?" I asked, trying to break the tension.
"Just needed a change of scenery," he replied, looking away from both of us.
"Are you staying for long?" Alex asked.
"I haven't decided yet," he said, still avoiding eye contact.
