I can’t believe I was such an idiot.

The world from his window is the same as always—the same streets are spread below, the same trees waving in a soundless breeze, the same cars parked on the street. Nothing has changed except for one of the most important things to him. Jasper is almost angry that it isn’t raining or gloomy; he thinks the weather should be reflecting his state of mind. Isn’t that what it’s like in all those dramatic shows and movies? He remembers laughing at romantic dramas, once upon a time, when he’d thought it was ridiculous for someone to be moping around their house, rain echoing tears long since shed. Now that he’s living it, though, it seems appropriate.

Alex hasn’t called or texted him. It’s early in the afternoon, the day after their bar meetup, and Jasper had waited by his phone for hours before giving up. He’s resigned himself to the fact that Alex just isn’t going to call. He’s not surprised, of course—not after the debacle that unfolded last night. Jasper thinks, with less humor and more exhaustion, that he should be used to failing by now. Just like the only other romances he’s ever had, it was a mistake. A bad one.

“Guess who messaged me last night,” Ezra says from the kitchen, where he’s making a sandwich. Jasper barely feels up to talking; he’s tempted to ignore his brother, or pretend he’s listening to music. The last thing he wants to think about is how he stole something that was meant for Ezra.

“Who?”

“Em. You remember—the one who always used to confuse us. You went out in high school.” Ezra sounds nonchalant, but given the history there, Jasper knows he’s trying to tread carefully. Jasper doesn’t blame him—after all, Emily was his longest relationship, and possibly the worst. She did cheat on him.

“Oh. What for?”

“She was wondering if we were still in town. I guess she hadn’t heard that we moved,” Ezra says, shrugging. “I still don’t know how she used to confuse us. We had different haircuts in high school.”

“I don’t know. Lots of people confused us.”

“She’s actually getting married.” There it is, Jasper thinks. This is what Ezra has been building up to. Jasper looks down at the book in his hands, tempted to throw it across the room just to see what happens. He doesn’t think he can feel any more emotions than he does right now, though, so he keeps his reaction bottled up. All he can think of is Alex’s brother, another marriage, and the happy endings unfolding around him.

“Really? That’s...interesting,” Jasper says, fumbling for some sort of word that describes what he thinks. He suspects, of course, why Ezra is mentioning it. As helpful as Jasper’s brother is, Ezra is too transparent to Jasper for his strategies to work. For all his care and planned words, it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah. I guess she and Chris just decided to settle down. It was kind of surprising.”

Jasper isn’t sure what logic played through Ezra’s mind and made him think bringing Emily and Chris up was a good idea. I don’t want to hear that she’s marrying the person she cheated on me with. Maybe Jasper has long since given up what he felt for Emily, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It just strengthens his belief that he really doesn’t know what he’s doing in life. He didn’t even recognize that Emily needed more from their relationship until it was too late and she was leaving him for someone else. Even if they’d both been young and stupid, he can’t help but feel responsible for the failure. Jasper is well aware that he moves at a glacial pace when it comes to relationships. If I hadn’t with Alex, would it have been better? If I’d just gone home with him instead of trying to be his friend first, would I have told the truth?

“Good for them,” Jasper says, trying to end the conversation. Ezra pushes on, the stubbornness they share making him ignore the fact that Jasper doesn’t want to talk about it.

“You know, so many of our friends are getting married. It’s crazy. I don’t want to get married anytime soon, but I think I’d like to look for a more permanent relationship. Dating is fine, but I’m starting to get to the point where I want someone constant in my life.”

“Oh,” Jasper says, flustered. Why is he telling me this? They don’t usually talk about relationships—in fact, Jasper thinks the last time they even remotely broached the subject was after Emily. It’s the one topic the both of them usually steer clear of; they have an understanding of each other’s preferences, but they don’t talk about it. Except for now, apparently.

“It’s not bad to move on. We got away from our hometown, and now we’re figuring things out for ourselves. I think I might start looking for another job. I know I can move up, with my experience.”

“Job? You mean as a pastry chef? Or—” Jasper blurts, trying to comprehend what he’s hearing. He stops for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I...thought you were comfortable where you were.”

“I was. But I can do more—and anyway, I’d make more money,” Ezra says, grinning. He takes his plate to his room, ending the conversation and leaving Jasper to think.

It’s almost uncharacteristic. Jasper stares at the pages of his book, the words blurring as his eyes drift out of focus. A new job? A long-term relationship? They’re changes that would make sense for anyone else, but Ezra has never been one for permanence. He’d changed his minor in school almost every year, flitting from program to program with the shifting attention he gives to most things in life. Ezra has always been the one that likes going out with a plan and then scrapping it along the way, stopping in random shops he sees and deciding to walk instead of drive at random points. Ezra is adaptable, Jasper thinks, the idea of him wanting stability or permanence is strange.

Or maybe I just never noticed, Jasper thinks. It wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t notice something important. If he thinks about it, he could assume that Ezra’s rapid-fire dates in the past few months have been because he’s looking for the right person. Something he wants to follow through to the end. Is my being here not helping? Jasper wonders, suddenly panicked. He hadn’t even considered that following Ezra when he left their parents’ house was a bad idea. Jasper had assumed it would be good to split rent and bills while they got started in a new town. He hadn’t even thought to ask if he would be a burden, or if Ezra wanted to go alone. Jasper had just packed his things and followed along, as if they were nine again and going on an adventure, blindly trusting that everything would be fine if they were together.

Jasper quickly gets up from the couch, walking across the living room and raising his hand to Ezra’s door. He pauses before he knocks, wavering. Should I even ask him? Part of him thinks that even if Ezra would rather be alone, he wouldn’t tell Jasper. They’re together now, and saying it after the fact would just make things awkward. But I have to know. Jasper needs to know—he needs to know so that he can get out of the way if he needs to, start planning his move, and make his own life. Before he can decide what to do, the door opens and Jasper jumps back, startled.

“What are you doing?” Ezra asks, amused.

“I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Am I bothering you?”

“You’re reading. I don’t think I could hear the pages turning from my room if I tried,” Ezra says, chuckling as he makes a beeline for the kitchen. Jasper watches him open the dishwasher. Ezra is giving Jasper a way out—a chance to let the conversation die, to leave it at a misunderstanding. This time, it’s Jasper that pushes forward.

“I’m serious. I didn’t really ask if I could come with you, Ezra. We’re adults; you can tell me if you’d rather be on your own.” Jasper watches his brother straighten, plate deposited in the dishwasher. Ezra looks at him with a vague frown.

“Is this about me wanting to get a different job? Or a partner? It’s not going to happen that fast, Jazz—”

“It’s not that. It’s the fact that I didn’t ask if I could come with you.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re my brother, and we both needed out of that house,” Ezra says, serious. He hesitates then, and Jasper feels his heart skip. He’s going to say “but,” now. “I know it was harder for you to leave than it was for me. I should be asking if you felt pressured to follow me. I didn’t want to force you.”

“What?” Jasper blinks, shocked. “You didn’t force me. I just—”

“Just what? Followed me because you always have?” Ezra asks. His question isn’t unkind; it’s worried. He sounds like it’s been bothering him, Jasper realizes.

“No. I mean—I’m never not going to think about following you; you’re my brother. But I could have stayed. It was my choice,” Jasper reminds him. It was the right choice. One I couldn’t make on my own. He doesn’t say it, but he thinks Ezra already knows. They stand in the kitchen for a brief moment, the room silent. There isn’t much left to say, just an answer that Jasper needs.

“You’re not bothering me,” Ezra says quietly. “I like having you around, Jazz. We support each other. If you want to move, you can. I’m not going to kick you out. Maybe later, one or both of us will move on, but for now, we’re doing this together. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay,” Jasper says, feeling a little better. Ezra smiles and goes back to his room, his hand heavy on Jasper’s shoulder as he passes. It’s a brief touch, but enough to reassure.

So, maybe he’s not as much of a bother as he thought he was. It helps, now that Jasper is certain he’s not just clinging to his brother. He feels better about the move and living with his brother, but he’s still feeling conflicted about Alex. He can’t forget how good it was to be close to him, even as a friend, and he’ll never forget what happened at the bar. Even as brief as it was, it felt like something good. They’d been friends before, and Jasper had relied on the connection between them, their conversations and understanding. Adding attraction to the mix had just heightened everything, raising it from a low murmur to a roar. Jasper can still feel Alex’s hands in his hair. Can still taste him on his lips. He hates having ghosts clinging to his memory like cobwebs, but he can’t force himself to forget. It was perfect, even if it only lasted less than a night.

I’ll call him tomorrow, if he doesn’t call me, Jasper thinks, looking down at his phone. Maybe they can’t go back to being as close as they were before, but he’s not going to let his mistake go unexplained without a fight. Jasper can handle going back to being friends, if that’s what it comes to—all he wants is to keep Alex in his life. If Jasper can’t be the one that makes him happy, he at least wants to know that Alex is doing well and has someone to talk to. Jasper can handle being a failure; he can’t handle giving up, not when it’s Alex he would be giving up on.