Ethan

Half an hour after Aubrey and the guys arrived, everyone was scattered around the living room, and no one could seem to keep their eyes off the painting for very long. There was quiet chatter here and there, some between me and Jared, some between the twins. Lenn was so unusually quiet I almost threw one of my pillows at him to make sure he wasn’t in some sort of shock.

My parents held hands and whispered to each other while casting sorrowful smiles between the painting and me.

Aubrey sat next to Emily on the love seat and nudged her knee. “You did really great. Just when I thought Ethan was the gift giving champion…” She smiled over at me then her eyes drifted to the painting. “I never met them, but seeing that makes me feel connected to them somehow. Is that weird?”

“Not at all. I felt the same way the first time I saw it,” Em whispered. I could hear them because I was so close, having set myself up at the far end of the long couch, with only a small end table between my spot and the love seat. “I know everyone is lost in thought and everything, but I still feel a lot of tension, and no one’s really talking.”

Aubrey nodded in agreement and glanced around.

I’d noticed too, of course. I wasn’t blind or stupid. At the hospital, everyone sort of avoided being in the room with my parents and my parents hadn’t really gone out of their way to talk to anyone but me and Em.

I wanted to say something, but I had no idea where to start or what I even wanted to say. It wasn’t like I could demand my brothers forgive and forget just because I had.

It was quiet for a while and, like always, Lenn had to say something stupid. “So, anyone else getting that awkward ‘are you supposed to thank the doc after a prostate exam’ kind of feeling?”

“Jesus, Lenn. You and your prostate.” Aubrey rolled her eyes.

Em chuckled awkwardly, blushing, and I knew she was thinking of his gift, which we’d yet to give him. It was hidden away upstairs. The damn thing was the size of a fire extinguisher and I’d had every intention of giving it to him on stage during the New Year’s Eve concert. Now, I was just waiting for my folks to split long enough for us to present it to him—on video, of course.

Kade didn’t even respond, he just cut him a look that should have caused him to burst into flames, and then turned to address the room. “He’s an idiot, but he’s right.”

Kane nodded in agreement and looked at my folks, sadness tinging his expression. “The truth is, we don’t know what to say to you guys. For so long, we were Ethan’s only family. We looked out for him, just like he looked out for us. We helped him get through losing his brother, and we got him through you two turning your backs on him, because that’s how our family works. But the thing is, it wasn’t just Ethan who lost Ryan. And it wasn’t just Ethan who you two abandoned. We loved you guys like our own parents. We practiced in your garage, demolished your groceries, shared Christmases with you. You basically helped raise us. And you left us too.” He shook his head and sat back, running his hands over his face.

I could have sworn he was wiping away tears.

Lennox cut in, and for the first time in forever, he was deadly serious. “Kane’s right. We named this band after something Ryan used to say. Not because it was clever but because it meant we’d have him with us. He’d be here, even if he wasn’t.” His eyes flickered to the painting. “He was our brother, too. And we miss him. Even after ten years. Every. Single. Day.”

Kade leaned forward on the couch and clasped his hands between his knees. “We all loved him, just like we all loved you. Then you checked out on us, and we had to get through all of that on our own. Maybe it made us stronger in the long run—I’d like to think so anyway—but I do know having you two there could have made it a hell of a lot easier on all of us. Maybe it would have made us stronger in other ways, ways that didn’t hurt quite as much.”

Aubrey sniffed from the love seat, and I knew it was killing her not to get up and go to her husband.

Jared, who was on the other end of the couch with me, was the last to speak. “My family was supposed to be linked to yours forever. My sister was supposed to be your daughter. But I always thought we were already family because I grew up in that house, at your table, in your vacation pictures. I was one of you from the time I was in elementary school.” He blew out a breath, swallowing thickly. “Ryan was my brother long before he loved my sister. And I lost them both. Then I lost you. Then I lost my mom. Then—” His voice broke, and he dropped his head.

I saw Emily start to get up from the corner of my eye, but Aubrey put a hand on her leg, stopping her.

I loved her so much for wanting to go to him, to comfort him, but she was too late. My mom was on her feet, tears streaming down her face as she practically staggered across the room toward him.

She shuddered and sobbed as she knelt on the floor in front of him and tugged him into her arms. “I’m so sorry, baby boy. I’m so incredibly sorry. We love you, and we loved Cara, too.”

I was so busy watching them I didn’t notice my dad coming over to stand behind my mom. Dad placed one hand on her shoulder, and the other reached out to stroke Jared’s hair as he leaned into my mom and held on for dear life. “I would have been honored to have her as my daughter. I still think of her as mine, no matter how it must have seemed at the time. We didn’t just love her because Ryan loved her; we loved her because she was incredible. Our boy was lucky to have her.”

I looked around the room, and there wasn’t a dry eye to be found.

Not one.

And before I knew it, my brothers were all kneeling on the floor around my mother, embracing her between whispered apologies and mutterings of Ryan and Cara’s names.

Aubrey went over and hugged my dad, who was used to playing second fiddle to my mom.

Emily came and carefully wedged herself next to me on the couch, holding my hand.

I’d owned my loft for nearly ten years, but it had always been a place to paint or crash when I was in town.

It wasn’t until that moment that it felt like my home.