Silent Prejudice

5

“Am I allowed to get us drinks?” I say instead. “Or would that get me in trouble?” My tone is playful purely from awkwardness, but I know he’ll misinterpret and think I’m flirting. God, what a mess. “You stay put. I’ve got it covered.” “If you say so.” “I do say so. I need you to be better by Thursday.” My heart rate kicks into a jog. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” “Because a friend of mine is having a party, and I want you to go with me. It’s hard to dance with a bad ankle. We have never danced together, and there’s nothing I’d like more.” He cuts a glance at me briefly between layering the pastrami on Kaiser rolls. s**t. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I’ve been gently giving him the slip even before I found out the truth, but he’s still in pursuit. My desire to avoid conflict is urging me to keep making excuses until he gives up. I’m tongue-tied and obliging despite the crucial importance of putting distance between us. But it’s disrespectful to leave him guessing and toy with his emotions. Haven’t I spent the past twenty-four hours judging others for not being honest with him? How am I any better if I take the coward’s way out instead of being up front and telling him truthfully that a relationship between us isn’t meant to be? I sit in silence as I debate my next move. My lack of response is enough to put him on guard. He brings over a plate for each of us and joins me at the table but makes no move to eat. “You have something against parties?” “No, it’s just that … I want to make sure we’re on the same page.” “And what page is that?” Here goes nothing. I meet his deep mahogany gaze. His eyes narrow at the apology he must see in my eyes. “I enjoy hanging out with you—I always have—but I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.” “Wrong impression? What impression am I supposed to get when you leaned into our kiss? You went to dinner with me, and your face lights up whenever I see you. Exactly what impression did you mean to send?” Goddammit. He’s not wrong, but things have changed. “My head has been a mess with my mom’s stuff, and I know I’ve sent some mixed signals, which is why I wanted to clear things up. I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m so glad we’ve gotten back in touch. I don’t want to lose that.” Nevio slowly crosses his arms over his chest, ramping up the tension surrounding us. “This has to do with Zeno, doesn’t it?” His hushed question drips with disgust. “No,” I urge quickly. “This has nothing to do with him.” I lean forward and place my hand flat against the table halfway between us. A plea. A bid for understanding. My words bounce right off him like rain on a tin roof. “Mom told me she thought something was going on between you two. I didn’t believe her because I’ve seen the way he’s treated you. I knew you had too much selfrespect to demean yourself like that.” His lips lift in a snarl, and I pull back, growing defensive as his response morphs into a personal attack. “I’m telling you my decision has nothing to do with him. If you don’t believe me, that’s your problem.” Cruelty twists his lips into a vicious scowl. “My only problem was finding a way to loosen that vise around your puritanical knees. We’ve known each other our whole lives, and it’s taken weeks to get a f*****g kiss. As far as I’m concerned, I should thank you for saving me the headache of going any further. Besides, I have no interest in my brother’s leftovers.” My mouth hangs open as Nevio strolls from the room as though he didn’t just spit in my face. Never in a million years would I have expected his reaction. A bruised ego is one thing. His calculated attack came deep from a cesspool of bitterness I’d never dreamed lay inside him. Was the animosity a product of the lies he’d been subjected to? Nevio claimed Z had treated him poorly, but I’d never been witness to any behavior by him or their parents to justify such residual hatred. Where had such spite come from? The mere hint that I’d chosen his brother over him had eliminated all rational thought. I shake my head, finally hinging my jaw shut as my shock wears off. I’m disappointed that he could say such awful things, but mostly I’m just sad for him. Nevio is more damaged than I realized. I hate that for him, but it also helps ease the sting of his attack. His reaction is a reflection of his own issues, making me wonder what made him so bitter. My father had warned me about him. It would make sense that Dad was trying to keep me from dating my own brother, but maybe there was more to his warning. Zeno and my dad both hinted that Nevio was trouble. I’d told myself both men had been overreacting for one reason or another. I’d known Nevio so well when we were children, and it seemed like he hadn’t changed a bit. His charm does a remarkable job of hiding the scars that mar his personality, but they’re still there beneath the surface, mottled and raw. I think back to Zeno’s letter. He indicated that Nevio had lied about Zeno asking him not to come to their father’s funeral. Such a falsehood isn’t so hard to imagine anymore. I have to wonder how else Nevio might have massaged the truth to paint himself in a better light. It’s no wonder the two brothers are no longer close. And to think of how accusatory I’d been about the way Zeno treated his brother. Neither man is faultless, but I had no business inserting my own misguided opinions. My self-righteous judgments. In that regard, at the very least, I owe Z an apology. Slipping my phone from my back pocket, I check for missed messages. Nothing. My emotions are only slightly more settled than they were when I woke up this morning, but it’s enough to give me direction. I need to know whether Zeno is still willing to talk to me. When I open our text thread, I expect to type a short apology, but that’s not what comes out. I try not to overthink the three simple words because while they’re not an apology, they need to be said. I’m starting a conversation with him. That’s the important part—that and speaking from my heart. Everything else is out of my hands, so there’s no point in worrying over it. Me: You hurt me. I hit send and only have to wait a minute for his reply. Zeno: That is my one greatest regret in life. And with those few simple words, a bandage wraps gently over the wounds scattered across my heart. They’ve been unable to fully heal since he first kicked me out of Hardwick so many years ago. His remorse without caveat or explanation means more to me than he could ever know. In addition, the tiny thread of communication between us reassures me that all is not lost. I may not know what else to say or where we go from here, but I know there is hope.