Breaking

Chapter 38.

Tobias

The sun is poking over the horizon when I wake up. It's like this every morning. No matter how late or early I go to bed, I wake up and watch the sunrise. But today, I don't watch the sun, instead, I watch my brother drop off my baby girl.

"It's okay," I breathe, welcoming my sad baby girl into my arms. She hugs me back and I kiss the top of her head. Patrick approaches us. I can see it on his face, he wants to say something. "I made you a mango smoothie. Go inside, I'll be right behind you." She nods, drawing away from me, and walks inside.

Patrick waits for Arabella to close the door behind her to speak. "You really need to talk to her."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Excuse you?"

"Talk to her." He takes a step closer. "Can't you see she misses you? She's at my place more than she's at her own home."

"I just lost my baby, okay? I'm trying-"

"You lost your baby and now you're pushing Arabella away!"

That's my final straw. I lose it and punch him.

He falls back on his hands and ass, blood already covering his lips. The pain that shoots up my arm feels good. "Jesus, Tobias!" He drags the back of his hand over his lips, smearing blood everywhere, only to cost more blood to spill out. "You're fucking insane!"

"Fuck you!" I snap. "Arabella is the only thing I have left!"

"Is that why she's with me? Is that why I know what's going on with her?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Do you think you're the only one that lost a kid? Are you that fucking clueless?" He rises to his feet and wipes his lips again. "Why do you think grace and I are adopting?"

I force my body to relax. "Why...w-why didn't you tell me before?"

"How could I?"

"Dad?"

I look back and see Arabella standing in the doorway. Patrick probably has a foot of height on me, and Arabella can clearly see his mouth bleeding. Her tired face is twisted in concern. And seeing her like that, it finally dawns on me what I did. I hit my little brother. The pain in my hand doesn't feel so good anymore.

Patrick clears his throat. "We're good, Arabella. Can you go inside?" I close my eyes, afraid of how she might look at me. Then I hear the door close and I bow my head shamefully. "She'll be alright," Patrick tells me in a whisper. "She would never see you as anything less."

"I'm sorry." I open my eyes and look at him. "I am sorry, Patrick."

"I'm not trying to be an asshole. I'm trying to help two people I care about and love. Please, talk to her." Before I can say anything, he walks away, wiping his still bleeding lips.

Arabella's sitting in the middle of the couch, legs crossed, smoothie in her hands. "Did you apologize?"

I nod. "Yes."

"Then can we talk?"

"Please." I join her on the couch and she hands me her smoothie. "Are you-"

"Why do you send me to Patrick's every day?"

"Because..." How do I word this? "Because...because Brenda and I are still recovering-"

"What the hell did you just say?" She snarls.

"Arabella-"

"The fact that you just said 'Brenda and I' means this isn't a physical thing. I'm recovering too, papa. I found her that night. I saw you at your lowest and I never felt so fucking useless. I lost my baby sibling! For fuck's sake, I'm recovering too! Now, I know I didn't lose a baby, but it hurts. This all hurts!" A mixture of anger and agony burns brightly in her pooling eyes. The sight of her breaks everything in me.