Will opens his front door and pulls me into his arms, hugging me close. All of my brothers are tall and muscular; we come from the same extraordinary gene pool, after all. Will has dark blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes, and is only two years older than me. He and I have always been very close.
I take a deep breath and let him hold me in his doorway, my cheek nestled in his soft Seahawks t-shirt, and the enormity of this afternoon's events wash over me. I feel the tears, and honest-to-God temper tantrum start to surface, so I step back and murmur, "bedroom."
"This way," he leads me through his beautiful Seattle home, but I don't really pay attention to the rooms he guides me through. I follow him upstairs and he opens a door. "This is your room, kiddo, for as long as you need it. I'm just across the hall in case you need me."
I nod and step into the beautiful room. The bed has been freshly made. "I forgot to get my bags."
"I'll get them."
"I think I'm going to cry, Will."
"Do you want me to stay or go?"
"I don't know." I shake my head and sit on the edge of the bed. God, I wish I could get that numb feeling back. It was so much better than this piercing pain that's running through me.
"I'll go get your bags and give you a minute, and then I'll be back, okay?"
I nod and look blindly at my brother. He looks concerned and a little mad. "Are you mad at me?"
"No, kid, I'm worried. I've never seen you like this."
"I don't think I've ever been through this." I touch my fingers to my lips and remember kissing Nate goodbye fifteen minutes ago, and the tears start to fall. I hang my head in my hands and give into crushing grief. I start to rock back and forth, sobs wracking my body. I've never cried this hard. I've never been this devastated.
I hear my own voice, keening and mumbling. I'm a fucking mess, and I can't stop it. My body has taken over, exorcising the hurt through tears and snot and spit.
Will comes back into the room wheeling my bags behind him. He pulls some tissues out of the box by the bed and hands me a wad to clean up the snotty mess on my face, and stands before me with his hands on his hips. "Are you able to talk?"
I shake my head no.
"Do you want me to kill him?" he asks, his voice low.
I shake my head no again, then think twice about it and shrug. A smile tugs at the corner of Will's lips.
"What do you need me to do, Jules?" God, I love this man. I'm so glad I came here.
"Just don't tell anyone but the family that I'm here. If Nate calls, you haven't seen me."
He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over this chest. "He really fucked up."
"Yeah he did."
"Another woman?"
"No." That brings more tears, and I break down again.
"Okay, we won't talk about it tonight."
"Am I ruining any plans for you?" I ask through my tears.
"No, but you know I'd change any plans I have for you, kid."
I just nod, and he shuffles from bare foot to foot and finally walks around to the other side of the bed, climbs on, sits against the headboard, and says, "Come here."
He pulls me into his lap and I curl into a ball and cry. Long, loud and messy sobs. Will keeps handing me tissues, rubs my back soothingly and holds me, letting me cry.
"Isn't it lucky holding your sister like this?" I ask.
"Not when you're this sick." He responds and he's right.
I'm sick.
Sick with fear, anger, sadness, betrayal and longing.