“Anderson,” Lo says tensely. Anderson, Jonathan Hale’s driver, the guy who has been known to rat us out. “Please don’t tell my father…”
“Have a nice night,” Anderson says with a fake smile. He spins back to the front, waiting for us to leave.
We do, and in my heart, I know that everything is about to change.
{27}
After a short conversation, we agree to spend the night apart. I stay with Rose at the Drake, and Ryke takes Lo to his apartment on campus. I only learn that his father calls him in the morning because Rose tells me.
He gave him the ultimatum we avoided and feared our whole lives. Go back to college, set your life straight, or else your trust fund will disappear. Months ago, Lo’s choice may have been different. He may have opted for college, transferring to Princeton or Penn State, going back into a familiar routine in a new setting. But I think we both realize that some things are worth more than a fancy lifestyle and padded wallet.
At breakfast, while I pick at a bowl of oatmeal in the living room, I’m not surprised when Rose tells me Lo stepped away from the money. She says it’s the most heroic thing he’s done in his life. The irony is that he’s not saving some damsel in a castle, he’s not rescuing a baby from a burning building—he’s helping himself. Maybe a little bit to save our relationship, but mostly, for him. And that’s the best reason there is. Beneath my fear, I am so, so proud.
In a few days, I’ll need to find the same bravery.
My sister sets a hand on my shoulder. “He’s coming over to grab some of his things. They’re leaving at noon.”
Pressure sits heavy on my chest, but I nod anyway. We also agreed that he should go to rehab as soon as possible. We’re afraid we’ll change our minds, that we’ll convince each other it’s not the right step and that we can work it out together. We can’t. We’ve tried that, and it ended with Lo drinking tequila in a hotel room and me, pulling him against my body.
Rose scoots next to me, and I make room for her on the couch. “How are you doing?” she asks, gathering my short hair and braiding the strands.
I shake my head. I have no words. In one night, Lo lost his trust fund, learned his father lied to him, and that he has a brother. We’re so connected, that I feel the hurt from the deception as if it was my own.
How could Jonathan lie to Lo for so long? I want to despise him for holding the truth, and yet, I can’t. He loves Lo. More than anyone will admit. He loves him so much that he decided to raise Lo instead of abandon him. He fears the thought of Lo going off to rehab, of learning that he failed as a father and that his son may move on without him. I think there’s a part in Jonathan that believes Lo will return home for money, that he’ll come back to him when he realizes the hardship of the working class. Maybe Lo will. Or maybe he’ll finally say goodbye to his father and never turn back.
“It’ll be hard at first,” Rose tells me, tying off my braid. “When’s the longest you’ve been away from him?”
I shake my head again. “I don’t know…a week, maybe.” It seems completely absurd, but it’s true. It’s like we’ve been married our whole lives, and now we have to separate. I know it’s for the best, but the hurt still festers like a new wound.
Rose rubs my back, and I spin to face her fully. She looks at me with more concern than I thought possible. In the end, it was not a boy who helped me.
It was my sister.
I hold her hand and say, “Thank you.” Tears build. “I don’t know if I can do this without you.” Rose and I agreed to keep my addiction quiet from our parents and sisters. It’s not something that people can easily accept or understand, and I don’t want to spend my days justifying these compulsions. If Rose also thinks it’s for the best, then I must be making a sound decision.
“You’ll be able to. Not now, but you’ll get there.”
“I’m scared.” My throat hurts. I inhale a strained breath. “What if I cheat on him? What if I can’t wait?”
She squeezes my hand. “You will. You’re going to get through this, and I’m going to be there every step of the way.”
I wipe my cheeks and then wrap my arms around her, hugging for a long, long time. To say thanks, I’m sorry, and “I love you,” I whisper.
She strokes my hair. “I love you too.”
*
I stand on the sidewalk outside of the Drake. Snow-flurries kiss my cheeks as I wait for Lo. People dress in nice church clothes, heading to Christmas Eve mass or service. Tiny lights wrap around lamp poles, and wreaths with suede red ribbons hang on the outside of our apartment complex. The city stays in a celebratory mood while my heart clenches with each beat.