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***TW: Mention of past miscarriage***

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***TW: Mention of past miscarriage***


My brother sat before me, exhaustion painting his usually spirited complexion and something that looked suspiciously like pizza sauce staining his light blue t-shirt. 

"Are you okay?"

It was selfish of me to assume I was the only one going through it, especially considering I didn't have a pregnant spouse and a three year old to worry about. 

"Not really, but I didn't want to spend this time talking about me.  I...I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come out with it.  I'm so fucking sorry, Elodie."

Tears immediately pricked at my eyes at his words, and I placed a hand out on his own that was covering a plastic cup filled with vanilla ice cream with chocolate sprinkles, the order that I forced him to get when we were younger and it sort of just stuck with him over time. 

"Eli, you don't have to--"

"No, I do."

He did, but I hated being apologized to.  It made me feel uncomfortable and put on the spot, but I shoved down my emotions for the moment and allowed him to speak. 

"When you came to live with us, I was scared out of my mind that I would fuck something up, and I was right.  I should've tried talking to you more, tried to push past your walls, but I was still dealing with my own trauma, and then my career and V's singing and then the wedding and Evie and it was all just so much that I should've taken a step back to check in with you and make sure you were doing fine, and you clearly weren't.

"It was just easier for me to think that you were okay, just because we got you out and spent quality time together on family game night and you went to therapy once a week.  When the adrenaline shit started, I thought that it was normal acting out stuff, but then it got more dangerous.  I kept putting the conversation off because it was too hard and I couldn't think about it without thinking about what happened to the both of us, drowning in my own guilt and grief for the family that we should've had...I should have protected you.  It was my job, and I should have fucking been there, and I am so sorry.  You are my baby sister, and I didn't protect you when I should have, when I could have done something.  It's all my fault."

The sound of bustling shoppers in the mall around us prattled on, unaware of the emotional upheaval in the food court mere steps from them. 

Cash registers rang out, music blared from a tech shop across the food court, a server yelled out an order in Spanish, a baby cried out from where the mother had just pulled them from the stroller--all of it blended together and yet faded to the background as my brother fell apart in front of me. 

My brother--strong, superstar basketball player Eli Shepherd, was crying in front of me in public where anyone could notice.

"It wasn't your fault we were abused.  It wasn't your job to protect me, it was my father's job not to abuse and hurt us, but he did.  I've come to terms with it.  We should've had a better family back then, but we have a chance now to make an amazing one for Evie and your new baby coming.  You can't tell me what to do now to cling onto that protective instinct, because Matthew is far from abusive.  If you think that low of your best friend, then I don't know what that says about you if you can't trust him with me.  But this is my life, and while I respect you and love you so much, you don't control me or this."

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