Chapter 115

Seconds of silence pass. When Josh doesn’t seem to be leaving, I ask, “Who is Brendan?”

“Our brother, Brandon’s twin.” I blink, my head spins from the sudden information and my thoughts crash to a stop when he adds, “He is dead.” Josh’s smile is pitiful, I don’t know when I move to stand beside him. I pat his shoulder. “He died in an accident.”

Brandon has a twin, a dead twin. It’s all I can think while my hand meets Josh’s shoulder in an awkward show of comfort. He pries my hand off him with a smile I don’t comment on because of how fake it is. I rub my hand against my hip. Brandon has a dead twin.

Seeing how shaken I am by the news, Josh pushes me into his seat, I sink gratefully into it. I shouldn’t have asked. My husband should have told me himself. “When did he die?” 

“A while ago.” 

 I snap. “How long is a while ago?”

“Five years,” he replies and my shoulders sag with the full impact of his words.

The deadweight shifts to my chest. I am slightly relieved to know Brendan died before our marriage. I won’t be able to handle knowing he had a twin sibling he didn’t tell me about. Then again, he didn’t mention Brianna or Josh. I close my eyes, he did. Once. Or a few times, it’s hard to remember now. But he mentioned a brother who loathes him. 

“I asked you that day,” I start, eyes lowering to my hands folded on my legs. My heart feels heavy like a weight was attached to it, and any moment, it will fly out of my chest. My baby must have sensed my hurt, she kicks gently to show her support and a sad smile curves my lips. “You told me to ask Brandon. Why did you bring him up today?” 

Melancholy hangs over us, Josh stares at me with a strange smile that stings. “No idea.” He shrugs, I understand he is hurt. “I got tired of everyone acting like he didn’t exist.”

“Why?” 

For a family so wealthy, news about a dead son should be splashed all over the internet. I don’t get it and I am afraid to look further for fear of what I will find. Things that might ruin us, our marriage. Ignorance is bliss and for a few minutes, days, maybe even years, I want to live in that bubble, protected by the little knowledge I have. Me and my baby. 

Josh starts pacing, I look to the window for help, willing Brandon to appear. If he comes in now, I promise I won’t have to ask any more questions. I don’t want to know. We can all pretend he doesn’t exist. As I say that to myself, I know I won’t be able to do it. I will not be able to live with myself knowing my husband had a twin and I never queried him.

“They hated each other.”

Against my better judgement, I glance at Josh for an explanation and he collapses to his seat with a sigh. In our few years of friendship, I have never seen him this worked up.

I would have pointed out his suit missing its jacket, an outfit he would never be found dead in but that wouldn’t have lightened the situation. I doubt I would have laughed at the joke. Clarissa might have laughed to ease the tension or said something funny. I hug myself. With all the hours spent on Brandon, there’s barely time left to visit or see her.

Like a crazed man, Josh retrieves his phone from his pocket, swipes furiously at his screen, and shoves the sleek device into my hand when he finds what he was looking for. Two teenagers stare back at me. Plump lips, amber eyes, and brown hair. Two Brandons.

The smooth nose on the second Brandon is the only distinction, and I shake my head in awe. If I wasn’t aware they were twins, I might have thought the boys staring back at me were the same person or another photoshopped image. They are identical twins.

Without Josh’s permission, I open up his browser and type in Brendan Stark.

A gasp escapes me at the only picture that pops up, realisation sets in. The nose is a giveaway, the first thing I should have noticed if I wasn’t so eager to shut David off. I don’t need a seer to tell me the cutie with him is Brianna. It has to be her. Blood rushes to my head, I exhale slowly and call Josh’s attention to the people smiling on his screen. 

“Do you know her?” I ask. He shakes his head. I point to the man. “Is that...Brendan?” 

This time, he nods and my heart skips a beat. My head is a cobweb of crazy theories, I clear my throat and return his phone to him. Josh doesn’t know about Brianna, his comatose niece. Brandon told no lies when he said only two people knew about her, make that three now. Me. Sophia and himself. It would have been four people but the fourth person is dead. 

Tiredness comes knocking on my door but I shake it off. I might never get this chance again. Brandon might be getting better at communicating but he has a long way to go.

“Why did they hate each other?” I ask.

Once Josh starts talking, he doesn’t stop and I hang on to every word he says about a childhood rivalry instigated by their parents. The screaming matches that transformed into physical brawls as soon as the boys were old enough to use their fists. Each word carries more weight than the last, I soak it in, listening attentively until he goes quiet. 

The subject of Josh’s interest is his mother in her pink formal outfit, can she breathe in that? She snatches her bag from the table, beckons on her husband to stand and I have to bite my tongue to keep from asking Josh if their father has lost his ability to speak. He looks like one to encourage misbehaviour which happens to be Mrs Stark middle name. 

I strain my neck to get a view of Brandon but he is missing. He was right there, probably smiling at his mother while she threw her tantrum. Where is he? When did he leave? 

Footsteps from behind cause my head to snap back, Brandon starts towards me, an unfamiliar look in his eyes and I shrink into myself. Thankfully he notices Josh, his gaze alternates between the two of us. Looking dapper in the suit he picked out for my sake, I can’t help stealing a few glances at him when he retraces his steps towards Josh.

Holding my breath as they converse, I run my fingers through my curls until Josh pats him on his back. The act itself is awkward, I suspect Josh has never done that before now. The act brings a small fleeting smile to Brandon’s lips and for that, I am grateful.

Josh pulls out a tiny box from his pocket, I fight back my tears at the look on Brandon’s face. A warmth spreads through me, my baby is happy. The purpose of today might have been defeated but at least, he now has his brother on his side, his love and support.

Maybe my excitement causes me to mishear him but I am certain the last thing Josh said before he left was, “Happy birthday brother.” A tear drops to my cheek, I wipe it quickly.

I cannot bring myself to be upset with Josh for leaving without as much as a wave in my direction. The childish look of adoration on my husband’s face as he toys with the gift Josh gave him fills me with joy, all thoughts of going to take a nap vanishes and I close the distance between us, eager for his touch and that smile directed to me. I’ve earned it.

Brandon turns to me with a smile, his eyes return to the gift, a toy car he pulls out from the box. Without being told, I know it holds a significant value to him and the only coherent in my head is how much cake I’ll stuff Josh with. He deserves that and more.

My happiness wanes when Brandon strokes my cheek, I am all too familiar with this kind of gentleness. It precedes bad news, or in his case, a withdrawal or punishment. And I know I am right when his lips meet my forehead. He takes a step back as if to scan my face, leaving me standing in the middle of our kitchen. Confused, alone and scared.