Chapter 3

We were sitting in the pool at the spa when I turned to Brooke and asked, "Do you know what I like to eat?"

She didn't even have to think about it.

"You like your eggs over easy with hot sauce on the side. You love a good steak, but it has to be medium rare because you always overcook it when you grill your own.

You're a big fruit person, but only if someone cuts it up for you first. And you put hot sauce on basically everything."

I stared at her. She remembered every single detail.

"How do you know all that?"

She smiled and nestled into my arms. "Because you're my husband, dummy. Because I pay attention."

So that was what it felt like to have someone actually care.

The contrast only made my family's indifference cut deeper. To them, I was just the son who left. I was an outsider, nothing more.

On Sunday evening, I headed back home. Brooke's words at the station were still echoing in my head.

"Don't try to shoulder everything alone. You've got me."

When I got home, I spotted three figures sitting outside my front door from halfway down the street.

Mom saw me first. She shot to her feet and closed the distance in a few quick strides.

"So you do know how to come home," she said.

Dad stood up behind her, stiff and stone-faced. Dylan hung back, a cigarette between his fingers, looking at me the way someone would look at a kid who didn't know any better.

I gripped the strap of my bag. "Mom, what are you all doing here?"

Her voice was shrill enough to bounce off the hallway walls. "You won't pick up the phone, you won't answer my texts. What was I supposed to do, just sit there?

"It's been two days! Do you have any idea what's been going on? Your father's blood pressure shot up to 180. Tyler cried for two straight days because nobody could find the strawberries he wanted. Jenna got so upset she packed up and went to her mother's."

Every accusation landed like a blow, one after another. I laughed.

"So all of that is my fault?"

The laugh caught her off guard, and it only made her angrier. "You think this is funny?

"The whole family is sitting there waiting for you on a Saturday night, and you're off running around with some woman. Do you even care about this family anymore?"

I looked at her, and for a moment she felt like a complete stranger. This was my mother, the woman who gave birth to me and raised me.

And here she was, standing in front of me with nothing but blame in her mouth. There wasn't even a single word of concern.

Dad let out a cold grunt from behind her. "Once a son walks out the door, he's gone for good. I should've known. Now that you've got your own life, you can't even be bothered to come home."

Dylan flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe.

"Forget it, don't waste your breath on him. Alan, you're coming with me right now. You're going to apologize to Mom and Dad, and then you're going to bring Jenna back."

I took a step backward. "I'm not going."

The air went still for a second.

Mom's face flushed red. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

Dylan closed the gap between us in two strides and grabbed my arm. "Let's go. You're coming home today whether you like it or not."

His grip was crushing, fingers digging into my skin. "Let go of me!"

I tried to wrench free but couldn't break his hold. "Dylan, let go!"

He didn't. He only squeezed harder and started dragging me toward the stairwell.

I panicked and reached for his fingers with my free hand, trying to pry them off. He winced at the pain and flung my arm away.

I stumbled back and slammed into the wall. Before I could even steady myself, he spun around and slapped me across the face.

The crack of it echoed through the hallway, and my mind went completely blank.

My cheek burned and my ears were ringing. Mom froze for a second, but instead of stepping in, she said, "Good. Maybe that'll teach you to listen."

Dad just stood there, jaw clenched, and said nothing.

I pressed my hand to my face and slowly straightened up, looking at the three people standing in front of me—my own father, my own mother, and my own brother.