I took him home.

“This is nice, Tom. Better than I expected,” River said, looking around Nick and my apartment, before adding, "it's a dump, but at least you've got four walls and a ceiling."

“What are you doing here? How are you here?” I asked, pulling off my black work apron.

I was flustered, trying to get my bearings.

“You wouldn’t come home, so I came to you,” he said, pacing the living room while I stood watching.

“How did you find me?”

“Find you? We never lost you, dumb ass,” he laughed, finally stopping.

My brother. He was the spitting image of our father—perfectly combed hair, fancy shoes, business casual. Even the way he smiled reminded me of Dad. Just like our father, River had two faces: the one he wore when other people were around, and the one I knew best. Maybe that was my problem. I never learned to be fake.

“You stole Dad’s car, and you’re still using the phone he got you,” he added.

I should’ve upgraded my cheap phone a long time ago. And it was a miracle I hadn’t been arrested for the car. It never occurred to me how easily those things could be traced.

“What does Dad want? Is he mad?” I asked nervously, as River sat on the couch.

I hesitated, then sat beside him. There was a seat between us.

“He’s disappointed, Tommy. But he’d kill to have you back home. We all would,” River said.

I smelled like onions and grease. My clothes were filthy. I couldn’t stop sweating. That wasn’t how I imagined returning to my family—but River had left me with little choice. Why couldn’t he have shown up after I got off work, when I’d had time to clean up? I still would’ve looked poor in comparison, but less dirty, if nothing else.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again, without looking his way.

Despite facing him, I couldn’t meet his gaze. His eyes were off-limits. I was never a salesman—I couldn’t hide my shame.

“It’s been two years. Dad thought if we gave you space, you’d come back after you saw how hard things were without us,” he said.

“I’m not alone,” I replied with some pride in my chest that quickly deflated.

“And I get that. I can see that. But he’ll never ask you to come back. He feels like he failed you. We all do. Maybe we all did. But you’ve been selfish.”

What did he say?

Selfish?

“How have I been selfish?” I said, finally looking into his eyes.

“You kept a part of yourself from us and ran away without giving us a chance to accept it,” he said before I could take another breath.

“You wouldn’t have. He wouldn’t have,” I said.

“You don’t know that. Do you think I give a shit that you wanted to screw some guy? I might’ve had questions, but you never let me ask them.”

I couldn’t look away. And something told me he couldn’t either.

There was heat rising in my chest. I stared at him. He stared back. The air between us was thick with something old and rotting. My fists clenched. My jaw locked. Were we about to fight?

I wanted him to swing first. I wanted to get it over with. Instead, I said, “I need you to leave. I don’t want Nick to see you.” Rage was better than shame, but neither was going to get me anywhere good.

River’s eyebrows went up like I’d thrown shit on his face.

“I’d love to meet the little asshole that stole you from us,” he said smuggly.

“Leave,” I told him and stood up.

“And what if I don’t?” he laughed, still seated.

He gave me a look—half glare, half grin. It was the same look he used to give me before pinning me to the ground and twisting my arm. More smug than threatening. My brother kicked his feet up and crossed his legs, defiantly settling into his seat.

“I haven’t seen you in two years, Tommy. No one has. But you think you can just ignore me?” he said. And for a moment, I thought we were going to come to blows—until he added, “I’m kidding.”

He stood up abruptly, and I took a step back, nearly falling over my own feet. For a second, I thought he was going to lunge at me. I braced for it. My heart was pounding in my ears. I wasn’t afraid of River, but the shame was indescribable. Where had it come from so suddenly? I didn't want to fight him, but deep in my gut, I believed I should have been punished. Waiting for it was upsetting. I didn’t want to feel sorry for making a decision that I had already made peace with. If he was going to be a dick, I wanted it quick.

“I’ll be in town a few days. Got some business to take care of with a new dealership. But I want you to come back to Oklahoma for Dad’s birthday. It would mean a lot to him. It would mean a lot to everyone,” he said before leaving.

All I could say when he was gone was, "What the fuck?"