The hospital hallway was a sterile, white abyss, smelling of antiseptic and quiet despair. Jacob paced back and forth, a caged animal in a too-small cage. Every few seconds, he shoot a glare at the closed doors of the emergency room, as if he could push them to open with his fury.
"Is it normal that they aren't telling us fucking anything?" Jacob snapped, his voice with fury. He stopped his pacing to glare at his brother, who remained a statue of unbearable stillness in one of the chairs.
"Calm the fuck down, please," Damien said, his voice low and tired, not even looking up. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his hands clutched so tightly his knuckles were white. "You're making me nervous too."
"Why the fuck aren't you nervous?" Jacob demanded, his voice rising to a pitch. "Isabella had a fucking car accident!" He gestured wildly, his arms waving.
As Damien slowly, deliberately stood up, Jacob's frustration boiled over into accusation. "You have no fucking emotion. I feel like you're as numb as that goddamn chair over there. Does she not stir any feelings in you anymore?"
"What the hell do you know about what I'm feeling?" Damien said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that finally cracked through his stoic facade.
He took a step forward, his eyes blazing with a fire that had been simmering just beneath the surface. "Mind your own fucking business! Sort out your own goddamn emotions, because I don't need the twin connection to see they're all over the fucking place!" He pointing a finger in Jacob's direction, his control finally shattering. "Isabella needs us, and we can't be freaking out right now!"
Jacob took a few deep, shuddering breaths, forcing air into his lungs as if he could breathe away the panic. He stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "You're right," he said, his voice quiet, stripped of all its earlier fire. He looked at his brother and for the first time in a long time, he didn't see a rival. He saw the one constant in his chaotic life.
"Damien..." Jacob began, his voice hesitant.
"Yes, Jacob," Damien replied, his tone flat, unreadable.
"Thank you," Jacob said, the words feeling clumsy and too little. "For keeping me grounded. You've always been my rock. I... I look up to you. I'm sorry if I'm so fucking bad at showing it, but you're my role model." The admission hung in the air, a raw, vulnerable thing that left Jacob feeling exposed and naked.
Damien's expression didn't soften. If anything, it hardened. A cold, bitter smirk touched his lips. "What you are saying is that you tried to be like me," he said, his voice dripping with a condescending tone. "Oh, so that's why you slept with my fiancée. Makes sense now."
The words were a slap in the face, but Jacob just took it. He deserved it. "I'm sorry, Damien," he said, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn't name.
"For what?" Damien asked, his arms crossed over his chest, a defensive wall.
"For sleeping with your fiancée," Jacob said, his gaze unwavering. "I shouldn't have... I should have told her to be honest with you. I know it's late now, you probably hate me and you'll never forgive me, but I want you to know that I'm genuinely sorry." He braced himself for the assault, for the allegations he knew were coming.
But they never did.
"You're forgiven," Damien said. His voice was flat, lacking emotion, but the words themselves were a shock.
Jacob stared at him, his mouth slightly open. "Say what? Just like that?" he asked nervously, his mind struggling to process the sudden forgiveness. It felt like a trap, a trick of the harsh hospital lighting.
"Look, Jacob..." Damien said, his voice losing some of its sharp edge, replaced by a tired, heavy sincerity. He ran a hand over his face, the exhaustion of the last few hours drawn into every crease of his face. "There are a lot of things that piss me the fuck off about you. How you're the definition of lazy but manage to do everything in time because you use your money and charm at the last fucking minute."
"I think that's just jealous speaking," Jacob teased, a weak smile playing on his lips.
Damien shot him a glare that completely lacked anger. "I fucking hate how you never take responsibility for your actions. You fucked up with Rebecca, big time. Two years ago, I didn't think you felt sorry for what you did. You blamed her fucking sickness, you started to brag about how you tried to save her life..." He paused, his gaze drifting to the floor, the memory still a sour taste in his mouth.
"But... I do feel like you've grown since then. I never said it but... thank you." The words were difficult, foreign on his tongue. "For... waiting with Isabella." He finally met Jacob's shocked eyes. "I've never seen you abstain from sex ever before. It's probably the first time I've seen you thinking before acting."
"I did it because I was feeling guilty," Jacob said, his voice barely a whisper, the confession dragging him down. He looked away, unable to hold his brother's gaze, the shame a physical weight on his shoulders.
"Trust me, it was fucking hard. I'm not trying to seem like the bigger man here, I swear. I did it because I was feeling like a complete piece of shit about Rebecca, and... fuck, Damien, you and Isabella had a thing for each other long before I ever showed my fucking face in Raleigh, so..." Jacob was saying, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush to be understood, when Damien cut him off.
unkind. He held up a hand, a silent command. "You admitting your reasons... that's enough fucking proof for me. You've grown. And I forgive you." He let out a long, slow breath, as if he'd been holding it for years.
"So don't beat yourself up about it too much." He took a final step forward, closing the last bit of space between them, and for the first time that day, there was no anger in his eyes, only a profound tiredness. "I love you, man. You're my brother."