The Other Side of Love

“I want to talk to you about Mom.” I cut him off, no longer interested in small talk.

“Oh,” his face turned serious as he realized the gravity of our conversation.

“Before I went to Palm Bonita, I hired a private detective. I wanted help trying to find out what happened with Mom.”

“You never could give it up.” He laughed, but the lightness didn’t reach his eyes. His shoulders looked tense and I could see the strain in his face.

“Yeah. I couldn’t.” I sighed. “I always was a glutton for punishment.”

“So, you hired a detective?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I gave him all the information I had, which wasn’t much, but he was able to find some leads. You see, she was in the system.”

“She was a criminal?” Zane looked shocked.

“No, she was in the immigration system. She applied for a visa when she moved to the States.”

“She wasn’t American?” Zane sat back in confusion.

“No. She was, or rather is, from France. She moved to the States to be an au pair. She was interested in being an actress as well, so that’s why she chose California. She thought she’d meet some hot actor or director and get into movies.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “How do you know this?”

“Sorry, I’m skipping ahead. So I hired the detective, and he found her in a couple of databases. He saw the visa application and some sealed mental records.”

“Mental records?”

“I mean patient records from a mental institute.”

“She was in a mental institute?” Zane’s eyes were wide. “Oh, God, don’t tell me we inherited some crazy gene from her. That’s all I need.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I think she suffered from depression, maybe bipolar as well. I don’t really know.”

“So she left us because she was depressed?”

“No.” I shook my head. “She had postpartum depression and she was scared she was going to harm us. I think she was close to a nervous breakdown. And, well, it didn’t help that she was with Dad.”

“I suppose not.” Zane ran his fingers through his hair. “I always wondered if she was depressed or something. I guess I never realized that would make someone leave her two sons. So the detective told you all this?”

“No, he gave me the contact information to a man she had listed on her visa application in France. Turns out that she had listed her father on the application and he still lived at that address.”

“How do you know?” He frowned at me. “Oh, is that when you went back to France?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I tried to talk to you about it all, but you just weren’t interested and I didn’t want to force the conversation until I knew exactly what had happened. I was so excited, you know. I thought I was going to be able to arrange this happy family reunion.”

“That didn’t exactly work out.” Zane gave me a wry smile.

“Yeah, it didn’t.” I sighed. “But everything went crazy all at once. I went to Mexico on that weekend trip with Angelique and Braydon, and I called the FBI, and then I went on another trip to France and I met her and my brain was inundated with too much information. I was mad, and sad, and angry and scared and I didn’t know if I was coming or going.”

“So you just disappeared without saying anything.” Zane looked at me with an angry expression. “I never thought you were one to just run away.”

“I thought I was protecting you.” I sighed. “I don’t know why—”

“Why did she pretend she didn’t know me?” Zane cut me off. “And why does she still call you? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“She’s not your mom.” I spurted it out and waited for him to explode.

“What are you talking about?” Zane frowned. “Of course she’s my mom. If she’s your mom, she’s my mom. We’re brothers, duh.”

“She’s not your biological mom, Zane.” I stared into his eyes and he stared back at me with a wild expression. “She was your au pair when you were a baby. She slept with Dad, and they started a relationship. As much as he could be in a relationship. And then she got pregnant with me and she thought she’d made it. But he still treated her like the au pair.”

“Who’s my mom, then?” Zane looked like a zombie as he spoke slowly. “Where’s my mom?”

I took a deep breath before I continued. This was the part I was dreading the most. “She’s dead, Zane. She died from complications during childbirth.”

“You mean my childbirth?” Zane looked dazed. “She died because she had me?” He sat back and closed his eyes, his fists clenched and I could see his chest heaving up and down.

“It wasn’t your fault, Zane. I saw the records. She had a pre-existing condition that the doctors missed. She would have died whether she had had you or not.”

“I killed my mother. And you’re not my brother.” He started laughing hysterically. “Any other surprises for me? Am I really from Pluto? Are you going to tell me that Lucky is a figment of my imagination as well?”

“Zane.” I said his name loudly and with authority. “Please. I didn’t want to tell you because I was scared you would lose it. But you can’t lose it, Zane. None of this is your fault.”

“How could you not tell me, Noah?” He jumped up from his chair. “How could you keep this from me?”

“I was scared.” I jumped up as well. “I didn’t want you to be hurt. I didn’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

“Take what the wrong way? I mean, why would I take it the wrong way? I’m not who I thought I am. My whole life has been a lie.” He paced back and forth. “I don’t even know who I am.”

“You know you’re still my big brother.” I said slowly. “You know you’re still the guy that went out of his way to find out what happened to me, and you dated a billion girls to seek revenge for my murder. You’re still the guy that promised me that you’d be by my side every day of my life. Remember that day when we pretended to camp in the backyard and you told me that as long as we both lived, I’d always have you?”

“I think I remember saying something about us being the same because we had the exact same blood running through our veins as well. And that was a lie.” He turned away from me. “I don’t even know who half of my bloodline belongs to. I don’t even know who I really am.”

“Blood didn’t make us a family, Zane. We made us a family. Our love and undying affection and care for each other make us a family. The fact that we would do anything for each other makes us a family. You’re still my brother, Zane. My full brother. I don’t care if we only share half a bloodline.” My voice rose as I talked to him, and he turned to look at me with tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He nodded. “I didn’t mean to imply anything else.”

“I have something for you.” I walked over to Sidney’s file cabinet and opened the second drawer and pulled out a folder and handed it to Zane. “This is for you.” I watched as he opened it slowly with a weary expression. “It’s everything I could find out about your birth mom and her family.”

“Oh.” He sat back down again with the folder in his lap and held it in his hands gingerly.

“Your grandfather died in World War II. He was a war hero.” I started talking when I realized that Zane was too dazed to look at the file himself. “And your grandmother was a nurse. She never remarried. She brought your mom up by herself, even supported her through college. Your mom was a teacher.” He looked up at me, and I could see tears in his eyes as I spoke. “She taught kindergarteners. She loved them and they loved her. There are two class photos in the folder. You can see what she looked like. She was beautiful. She was older than Dad by eleven years.” Zane’s eyes widened in surprise and I laughed. “I know. I was shocked as well.”

“She was older than Dad?” Zane spoke finally and opened the folder. I watched as he went through the papers and photographs eagerly, holding them carefully and studying them intently. “She was beautiful.” He stared at one of the photos and smiled at me. “She looks like she was a loving woman. Like she would have made a good mother.”

“She was really excited to have you.” I continued on. “The detective found many people who worked with her. They all said she was so excited to have a baby of her own. She boasted to everyone that she was going to call him Zane because he was her strong little man. She used to tell everyone that when you kicked she thought you were going to break through her stomach.”

“That’s not what hurt her, is it?” Zane’s expression turned bleak again and I almost cursed myself out.

“No, that’s not why. She loved you so much, Zane. You were the child she had been waiting for her whole life.” I took a deep breath and continued. “She chose your life instead of her own.”

“What?” Zane looked confused.

“When she went into labor, the doctors told her they could try and save her or they could try and save you. And she didn’t hesitate. She chose you. She had a preexisting condition and knew she was going to die anyway. So she chose your life. She wanted you to live more than anything.” I took a deep breath. “And there’s supposed to be a letter.”

“A letter?”

“I don’t know where it is.” I gave him an apologetic look. “I don’t even know if it’s true, but the detective spoke to someone that worked at the hospital when she died. She was a receptionist or something. She said that your mom left you a letter.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before, Noah?”

“Because I was scared of how you would react.” I answered honestly. “You were in a bad, bitter place, bro. I wasn’t sure that you’d be able to handle it all.”

“I understand.” He gave me a small smile. “I was in a bad place. But now that I have Lucky, I feel like nothing can phase me. I’m really hurt and upset, but I understand your reasons for keeping it secret, Noah.”

“I love you, Zane.”

“I love you too, bro.” He stood up and gave me a big bear hug before pulling back. “And now, if you’ll excuse me. I want to go and find Lucky and tell her everything.” He laughed as he shook his head. “I can’t believe that I’ve become that guy.”

I laughed as well and agreed with him. “I can’t believe it either.”

Chapter 10

“I want to go to Aruba.” She sat at the table and looked up at me with a demanding face.

“I can’t leave Palm Bonita,” I sighed, irritated that we were having this conversation again.

“I want to go on vacation. This shit is boring.” She looked at me, annoyed. “No one in Aruba is going to know or care who you are.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t go.”

“What use are you to me?”

“I thought you liked my company.” I turned away from her, unable to look at her. I wasn’t sure who she was becoming, or maybe I just hadn’t known who she really was when we first started dating.

“Noah, it’s not that I don’t like your company. It’s that I’ll like it more if we went to Aruba.” She continued painting her fingernails and held them up to me. “What do you think?” I stared at the bright red polish on her nails and thought the color was apt. Her fingers looked like they had been dipped in blood and really, that was the way I was starting to think of her. She was a bloodsucker, only interested in her own needs. The fact was I would have already dumped her if there weren’t other issues to consider, other circumstances that made it more difficult. It was hard for me to walk away from her when I knew that I was possibly putting someone else at risk.

“Looks good.” I faked a smile and turned away. “If you’re wanting to be a prostitute or vampire.” I said under my breath.

“What’s that?” Her voice was shrill, and I looked over at her with a blank expression.

“What’s what?”

“What did you just say?” Her eyes narrowed at me coldly and I almost shivered as I stared at her. There was no happiness or joy in her spirit. She looked broken. Broken and distant.

“Nothing, just that I wished I could take you to Aruba.”

“Whatever.” She flung her hair over her shoulders. “I’ll figure out a way myself or with the help of someone else.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned. “You’re not going to steal again?”

“You act like that’s a bad thing.” She stood up and walked over to me. “You act like you didn’t get off f**king me in that stranger’s house after we stole the handbag.”

“We didn’t steal anything.” I took a step away from her, feeling my body temperature rising. It was getting harder and harder for me to disguise my feelings.

“No one would believe that you weren’t in it with me. Were you not in the house with me?” She laughed cattily, and ran her index finger all the way down my chest and to my crotch, which sat motionless. She looked up at me with a pout. “There was a day when all I had to do was touch you and you would rise to attention.”

“I’m not in the mood.” I looked away from her.

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