More Than Lies (More Than #1)(73)

“So what if I fucking am.” Shane shoves the guitar off his lap and onto the mattress. “No one understands what I go through every day. What I’ve gone through and lived with for the last ten years.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but if you’ve been keeping that shit bottled up that long it can’t be good, man.” I remember Whitney a little bit. When she wasn’t with my brother, she and Kylie were always together, so I saw her from time to time when I would be over at Mason’s.

“What would you know,” he snorts out. I’m sure most people would take offense to that, but not me. He’s right.

“Not a damn thing. Doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me, though. I am your brother.” His eyes soften slightly, but they also take on a deep sadness.

“I feel fucking awful. Today is my best friend’s funeral. I’m not pissed that I’ll never see him again. I’m not reminiscing about all the things we’ve done. I’m too angry that I lost the only girl I’ve ever loved, and I can’t get over her. It’s been ten years. A fucking decade, and a day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about her. She is the last thing I think about before sleep takes over and the first thing that crosses my mind when my eyes open in the morning.”

“Shit, dude.” What do you say to all that? What do I say to all that?

“You know,” he laughs but there isn’t a lick of humor behind it. “I was jealous. Jealous of Trent and Kylie and what they had. And seeing them together every day, I envied them. I wanted that back. I had what they had, but it was taken from me, and it wasn’t fair.” Another sardonic laugh drips from his lips. “That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

“No.” I don’t think it’s messed up at all. “I think if I was in your shoes, I’d be angry with God, too.”

“I’m not angry with God. God wasn’t the one that took her from me. Her asshole parents did.” That last sentence is full of resentment. Hatred, even.

“How did they cause her death?” Something isn’t adding up. Was she on some type of life support after the crash and they decided to pull the plug?

“Whitney isn’t dead,” he tells me, and then gives me a look like he thinks I’m stupid or something. If that’s true, then why aren’t they together if he’s so much in love with her? That is if she’s the one he’s talking about.

“What? No, dude, I remember Mom and Dad telling you she didn’t make it after she was taken to the hospital.” I was young, but not young enough to have gotten that screwed up. I was in the living room when they told him. I witnessed him break apart. That night was the only time I’ve ever seen Shane cry.

“That was a lie. Her parents told Mom that. The next day Dad saw her during his rounds in the ICU. She was still unconscious at the time. Even though it violated HIPPA regulations and could have cost him his career, he told me. I’d never been so relieved and happy in my life. That was short lived, though. Her parents wouldn’t allow me to see her. I tried, dude. I tried to get to her every way I possibly could. Nothing I did worked. They kept her from me. As soon as she regained consciousness, they immediately transferred her to another hospital and moved away.”

That’s fucked up. That’s beyond jacked up. What kind of people do that to kids?

“I don’t know what to say, Shane. I can’t imagine something like that.”

“Dad spoke to her attending physician. When she woke up, she didn’t remember anything. Her whole life before opening her eyes in that hospital was gone.”

“Do you think she ever gained her memory back?”

“I don’t.” The way he says it makes me think he knows more than he’s sharing.

“What makes you think that?”

“If Whit remembered us, if the girl I knew remembered herself, then she would have found me.” I never knew how heartbroken my brother was. Damn. “A few months back I stumbled across her Facebook page. She’s married and has a kid.” Shit. This story keeps getting worse by the second.

“Damn, brother, I’m sorry.”

“The kid looked to be about a year or two. There weren’t any photos of her husband, which is probably a good thing, too. I don’t think I could have handled seeing that much of her new life. Whitney looked amazing, but not like my Whitney. My Whitney hated dresses. Refused to ever wear them to church on Sundays. But in every photo on her page, she was wearing a dress. Reminded me of the way Taralynn dresses when she’s in her mother’s presence.” He pauses, taking in air through his mouth. “So, yeah, I don’t think she remembers me or anything else from before the accident.”

“That is rough, brother. I hate that I never knew.” Why didn’t I know? He’s my brother. I should know that shit. This makes me realize just how far apart we are. I don’t like it. We’re family. Hell, my family is close, but where the hell have I been?

“I’m done with this today. My mind should be on Trent.” Shane swings his legs off the bed and stands up. He looks at me and shakes his head. “You still can’t tie a tie for shit, can you?”

“I’m not meant to wear these things.” I reach up and fist the material in my hands.

“Come here, little brother, it is time you man-up and learn.”