My Brother’s Best Friend

Chapter 17



The Painting

ARELLA “SIS!” Brett’s face lit up when he saw me approaching the dining room. They already started the dinner without me because it took me some time to groom myself.

“Brother.” I smiled brightly at him like nothing happened last week.

Brett stood and pulled me into a bear hug. “I missed you, Are.”

I returned the hug and whispered, “I missed you, too, but you’re crushing me.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” he whispered back.

“Me too.” I pulled away and hugged Mom and Dad. “So, you all started without me, huh?”

“Sorry, kiddo. I thought you’re not coming. Your mom wrapped some food for you and thought Brett could send it to your apartment.” Dad sat back.

“I’m happy to see you, honey.” Mom smiled. I couldn’t sense any tension in the room, which was a good sign. I didn’t want to ruin this dinner with my life full of drama.

“Thanks, mom!”

I took some food on my plate and started digging. The food seemed to meet my taste or I was just starving. I’d been eating instant noodles if not frozen pizza and baked mac and cheese for the whole week because I was so lazy to cook for myself. Our microwave had been put to good use since I was already tired of the same food on our takeout menu for months until I started some healthy meals. Kat just shook her head every time she checked our fridge.

“I guess post-hot Brit effect is so bad, huh? This fridge looked like from the supermarket. Why don’t you just freeze the kettle and pans, too? They’re no use anyway.”

I kept my eyes on the new episode of Castle Rock. Psychological horror was not my cup of tea, but there was nothing wrong with stepping out of my comfort zone, was there? Okay, that was a bull. I thought I might be able to forget Skip for a while. It didn’t help much though.

“Arella, stop moping around, and just go out and have fun!”

I turned my head to her when she turned off the TV and threw the remote beside me. “This is my way of fun, Kat, please?” My chest tightened again. I was so got ahead of myself, imagining me and Skip watching movies on this couch after he made me forget my own name that day.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, but please, just believe what your heart says because it doesn’t lie, Are.” She sat beside me and gripped my knee. “He will come back. I saw how he looked at you that day. I never doubted he was in love with you.”

“Is this your way of helping me move on? Well, news flash, it doesn’t.” I pressed the power button and focused back on the TV screen.

She sighed in frustration and stomped back to the kitchen.

“Easy there, sweet corn,” Brett mumbled across the table. “Did Kat starve you like that?”

My heart melted to hear him calling me this nickname again. He used to call me when we were just kids. He said my hair was like corn silk.

After our family dinner, I decided to come with Brett since he was so adamant that I should stay with him for a night. How could I say no to him when he’d been nothing but a great brother to me?

The elevator rose up to his apartment, and none of us started talking and so as on our way. He just drummed his fingers into rock music he played on his playlist.

“How’s the business?” I started while waiting for us to reach his floor. I could feel his eyes on me.

“Is that really what you wanna know, sweet corn? You can ask me, you know.”

“Please, don’t start. I really wanna know about your business.”

Our grandparents started out a small chocolate shop until it grew up when it won in a contest and featured in one of the local food magazines. Then my parents opened another shop in town. When Brett graduated from college, he took over the business, and within three years he was able to open another branch in the center of New York City.

“It’s a family business, Are. So you are always a part of it.”

“And I can’t remember I ever have a contribution to it.”

“Is your name not enough?” He laughed. “Sweet corn, it’s all over the wrappers and prints everywhere. I can suggest putting your picture on it if you want me to.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s Nana’s, but I want to visit the factory.”

I sighed when I remembered my last visit. It was before my wedding, and the last time I tasted chocolate was on my wedding day since Reigh Chocolates sponsored our deserts.

“Let me take you there. How about next week?”

Before I could answer he asked again, “So how’re the scents you’re formulating?” He pulled me closer to him and kissed the top of my head.

I’d been trying to experiment for my own signature scent, but I failed to come up with the right scent in my mind. Or maybe I should probably just use my heart instead. My broken heart.

“Been working on the new samples for a week.” Then I froze and lifted my eyes to meet Brett’s blue one. “Holy crap! I wanna go to the factory on Monday.”

His brow furrowed. “What’s with the rush?”

“Please? I think I found where I can get my inspiration.” I gave him a look that he could not say no to me-just like how I asked him for the tickets to the concert. Wait a minute.

“Brett, can I ask you something?”

“Aren’t you already asking?” He smiled bemusedly.

Before I could sigh, he said. “Just kidding, ask away.”

“How could you afford the front row tickets?” I watched him slowly.

He shrugged. “I have my way.”

“He gave them to you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. I asked if he could pull some strings. And I said they’re for my baby sister’s birthday. Then after two days, he handed the tickets to me. Oh, he said happy birthday to you.” He pressed his lips into a thin line as if he was sad or guilty.

“And just now you tell me that, why?”

“Because he’s a chick magnet, Are. The last thing I want from you is to have a broken heart, but I guess I’d been protecting you from the wrong guy all these years.” His voice broke suddenly.

“It’s all right, Brett. You’re the best brother I could ever have.” I smiled. “Oh, because technically I don’t have a choice.” I laughed and I could see his face lightened up. “So, are you gonna help me with the factory?

“Do you really have to ask me?” He smiled genuinely. “Of course, you can visit there anytime, but I’m always willing to come with you. All you have to do is say a word, besides, my sister rarely asks a favor.”

I tiptoed to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, bug!”

“Don’t call me that,” he groaned.NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

The elevator door slid open.

His bachelor’s pad was a pretty neat loft. A ton of brick and lumber material was used. It took advantage of the high ceiling on the upper level to serve as his bedroom. The rustic feels and the brick made it look masculine with no effort. His furniture, the wall, and the stairs matched with an iron effect and wood paneling. Of course, my brother loved the sunshine, and I was not surprised to see the curtains being drawn to both sides.

“I always love your apartment, brother.”

“We can always be neighbors, Are. There is an empty apartment on the fifth floor, and I can call the owner if you want to move here. Just let me know.”

I just hummed because he knew I couldn’t move out of Kat. It was not about the lease, but she grew on me already. I moved closer to the painting on his wall. I didn’t get why it looked creepy to me. It had three heads painted in white with red encircled as their eyes. Then the background was just black and grey.

My brows furrowed as I looked closer. “Why the hell do you have this painting on your wall? Is this new?”

“You’re really not an art person, are you, sweet corn?” he chuckled.

I could feel him on my back. I rolled my eyes because he knew me more than I knew myself. “Glad you find it funny.”

“This was three years ago,” he hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure you wanna hear this?”

“Yeah. Tell me why this painting deserves a place in your expensive loft?” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared blankly at the painting.

“Lorcan and I flew from LAX to London to mend Linton’s heart.”

Just his name made me freeze. I swallowed, ignoring the ache inside my chest. I missed him so much. He always crossed my mind every now and then. He may never forgive me for what I did, but it was for his own good. He was going to thank me later. And I never expected these things to happen between us. I broke his heart, and I broke mine in the end.

“We got drunk and couldn’t even hail a cab. His brother, Clyve picked us from the pub and brought us to his apartment. He painted as part of his therapy. So, he asked if he could paint us.”

I found myself rubbing my chest. “Therapy?”

“He had a hard time coping when their parents’ divorced and his brother away from him for the first time. He stayed with his dad, while Skip was here with his mom and for his college. So, he felt lost and became an alcoholic. He used some drugs, too, but he’s in good shape now. He’s two years younger than Skip and me. So, sister dear, does this painting deserve a place on my wall?”

“Definitely.” Then I scanned around until my eyes landed on the picture beside our family’s. I swallowed hard, and again, it triggered the pain inside my heart. The picture was a selfie, taken from a stadium. I couldn’t see any sadness in those beautiful eyes. A recent picture of Skip.

My stomach twisted, and my heart seemed hollow that he wasn’t affected after all.

And here I thought my brother didn’t have any contact with him.


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