I know why he’s here now.
His marriage. Apparently, he couldn’t manage to hold that together either.
I shouldn’t be surprised.
I don’t know what makes me angrier. That he got married without telling us. That he has two daughters we’ve never met. Or that the woman he married is her.
Meela.
Of course I remember her.
Mom’s birthday. Her favorite restaurant. One of the few traditions we still had that felt like ours. We were supposed to be celebrating her, remembering her, being together.
And then Drake saw some tourist across the room.
You’d have thought the dead had come back to life, the way he lit up.
I remember thinking he could have waited. Just one evening. One dinner where everything didn’t have to be about what Drake wanted.
But he brought her over anyway.
I suppose I should have known then.
He always was selfish.
No. That’s not fair.
I remember following him down to the beach before sunrise. He’d always sneak out because he was determined to surf before anyone else was awake and he hated the idea of waking us. He never knew I was watching from shore. At least I don’t think he did. Someone had to make sure the sharks didn’t get him. He was barely old enough to eat out by himself when he started.
I remember him crying over girls who barely deserved a second thought. Sitting beside him until he was ready to talk, even when I had better things to do.. there was always a girl. Never a tourist. He knew better than that but always a girl he thought was the one.
And I remember the months after Mom died.
I don’t think I’ve ever told him how close I came to giving up on everything. The business. The house. Getting out of bed.
He wouldn’t let me.
He’d sit with me for hours. Sometimes he wouldn’t say anything. Sometimes he’d talk about the future as though he could see one when I couldn’t. He’d lay on my floor staring at the ceiling because I couldn’t imagine a world where any conversation even meant anything in a world she wasn’t in.
He was my little brother.
He still is.
I don’t know who this man is.
He left. He married. He had children. He built an entire life without us.
And now he’s back because he betrayed the woman he was so desperate to leave us for.
What could have possibly been different about her?
Every tourist comes to the island, full of flattery, big budgets, wanderlust. He never cared about any of that. I guess until he did.
What am I supposed to do with that?
Dad says he needs his family.
He had a family.
He had us.
And apparently that wasn’t enough.
I won’t fight with him. Not here. Dad’s happy, and I won’t take that away from him.
He can stay as long as he needs to.
But I won’t pretend we’re brothers just because we share a roof.
I miss him.
I don’t know what he expects from me.
