Stepbrother Dearest

Chapter 19

He'd come back for me?

My hand covered my chest as if it were going to keep my heart from leaping out of it.

It was now mid-morning, and the hustle and bustle of the daily grind could be heard from my window. The sun was pouring into the apartment. I'd already called out of work earlier because I needed to finish this book today.

Tonight was a 30th birthday celebration for a co-worker at a downtown nightclub, and I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to put it down long enough to go.

I walked to the kitchen to have some water and forced down a granola bar. The energy would be much needed to get through this next part.

He'd come back for me?

I curled back into the couch, took a deep breath and turned the page.

***

You have to treat addiction to a person the same way you would a drug problem. If I couldn't be all in with Greta, then I couldn't have any contact with her at all because that would have caused me to spiral out of control.

Even calling or texting wasn't going to be possible. It seemed harsh, but I wouldn't have been able to handle even the sound of her voice if we couldn't be together.

That didn't mean that I wasn't pining for her every single day. That first year was hell.

Mami was no better than before I'd gone to Boston. She kept interrogating me for information about Randy and Sarah, stalking Sarah's facebook page and accusing me of being a traitor after I admitted that my stepmother wasn't all that bad once you got to know her. I couldn't even mention Greta's name because I didn't want my mother to look her up or suspect anything. Mami was back on sleeping pills, and I had to watch her like a hawk.

I was right in my assumption that she could have never handled even the thought of my being with Greta at that time. It was a sad irony: Mami was obsessed with Sarah, and unbeknownst to her, I'd become obsessed with Sarah's daughter. We were quite the fucked up pair.

Not a day went by without my having a thought about Greta with another guy. It made me crazy. I was so far away and powerless. Ironically, there was a side of me that wished at the very least, I were able to protect her as my sister even if we weren't together. Sick, right? But what if someone hurt her? I wouldn't even know about it and couldn't beat him down. And forget about the thought of her fucking another guy. I'd actually punched a hole once in my bedroom wall just thinking about that.

Then, one night, I lost control and texted her that I missed her. I asked her not to respond. She didn't, and it made me feel worse. I'd vowed never to repeat that mistake.

My life had gone back to exactly what it was before I moved to Boston: smoking, drinking and fucking girls I didn't care about. It was empty. The only difference from before was that now, somewhere deep beneath the filth was this longing for more...for her. She'd given me a taste of the type of human connection my life had been missing all along.

I expected the gnawing feeling in my chest to go away over time, but it never did; it only intensified. I think that was because deep down, I also sensed that wherever she was, Greta was thinking of me, feeling the same way. I somehow felt it, and it ate away at me for years.

***

Two years later, Mami's mental state had finally improved after she met a guy. He was her first boyfriend since Randy left her. George was Lebanese and owned the convenience store down the street from us. He was over the house all of the time and would always bring pita bread, hummus and olives. For the first time ever, her obsession with Randy seemed to have waned.