“She’s mine. My friend. My best friend.”

“Well, he’s mine.” We circle around each other, furious. This is the fight that we never got to finish. A thin trickle of water runs between us but I barely register it. All I can see is my brother’s furious face, red embarrassed ears, and the sheen on his brow.

I scream in frustration. “How? Tell me how you got her. Explain it to me.” I pick up another brick and weigh it in my palm. I imagine throwing it at his face and it’s vivid. “You couldn’t just leave that one person alone. The one person I wanted all for myself.”

“She’s my friend!” Jamie roars.

“No, she’s not!” I throw the brick and it takes a devastating chunk out of the floorboard. “Just because you think you’re God’s gift to women doesn’t mean she’ll fall for it.”

That knocks some wind from his sails. I remember what he said—She thinks I’m a nightmare. “I’m telling the truth, Darcy. She’s one of my best friends. We’ve been emailing each other.” I laugh derisively at that, but Jamie silences me. “I needed a way to keep an eye on you after our fight. I emailed her from the Underswears website. She replied. I liked it.”

I advance on him with my hands outstretched. I’m going to kill him. And her. And everyone. “Jamie, you little fuckwit.”

“Stop it,” Tom says from the open doorway. He’s got his phone in his hand and a grimness in his expression. “Stop it, both of you.” He looks up. The tarp covering the hole in the roof is leaking. “I leave the room for two minutes, and this.” He sees the new damage we’ve caused and the brick in my hand. “What have you done, Darcy?”

“He knows everything. That we’re together. You’re mine, one hundred percent.”

Tom just walks to me and takes the next brick from my hand. And he doesn’t say anything.

“Well?” Jamie snaps. “Well?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Tom says. He’s cold and furious. Something inside me begins to slide.

“Just tell him that you love me, and we’re together, and we’ll go up and fix the tarp and stack the bricks. Tom, tell him.”

“I asked you for one thing. Don’t tell Jamie until the house is sold. Three months of waiting for me. But that was too much to ask.”

“I’ve waited my whole life for you.” I bite my lip. I put my hand out for him but he steps out of reach. “I’m sorry. You know what I’m like, I just—”

Tom glances at his watch. “Yeah, I know what you’re like. I asked for three months. You lasted thirty minutes.” He refuses to tell my brother that he loves me.

“Hello, I’m right here,” Jamie says sarcastically. “You wanted to lie to me?”

There’s more to this. “Shut up, Jamie. What was that phone call? What’s happened?” I step into him again.

Tom exhales and closes his eyes. “My mom is being evicted as we speak. Just … furniture and cats and she’s hysterical.”

I hate how my hands are not registering on him. “This early on a Sunday?”

“Her landlord is a jerk. I need to get there.” The anger is dulling away into a frightening flatness.

“Look,” Jamie says, flicking his eyes to mine with alarm. “We got out of hand, like we do, but we’ll fix this—”

“We’ll go now,” I interrupt Jamie urgently. “We’ll all go and—”

“Aldo was right.” Tom is looking up at the hole in the ceiling. “I’m not cut out for this. I’m not the boss. I’m the muscle.”

“You’re doing great,” Jamie and I say, practically in unison.

“I wouldn’t have even made it this far without Darcy. I can’t manage the phone and the site. That much is obvious. How unprofessional, right? Enlisting the client? I never saw Aldo do that.”

“Aldo had you to delegate to. You can’t delegate to yourself,” Jamie argues.

Tom is unswayed. “So don’t you think that’s going to be a problem when I move to the next site, and when life gets hard again for you and you leave?” He looks at me.

“You’ve got everything wrong. I’m not going anywhere.” I look at my brother and widen my eyes. “Help me.”

“Let’s just relax,” Jamie says, attempting Tom’s special tone and failing miserably.

Tom puts a hand on his hip. “Enough lies. Jamie, I fucked up the budget.”

“Fucked it up, how?” Jamie’s eyes sharpen. Money is his Achilles’ heel, and it’s pinching. “How much?”

“My entire five percent, probably. I used an old spreadsheet for the project. I didn’t update it with the new rate I promised my crew to move over with me. Plus the motel costs for the core three. I just … fucked up.” He lifts his arms and drops them. “A completely stupid simple error, and I was too distracted to notice it. So there you go. Some more ammunition for you to bring up over and over, for the rest of your life. Ha ha, remember how Tom couldn’t swim? Remember how Tom screwed up his first solo job ever?”

“I want to see the spreadsheet,” Jamie orders him. “Now. We have a contract—”

“I’m well aware.” Tom turns his eyes to mine, and there’s a starkness in them now. “And I’ve been lying to you about something.”

“I don’t care what it is.” I will not break under this, whatever it is. “I don’t care if she’s still got her ring. If the wedding is back on. If you’re already married. It won’t stop me from loving you.”

He silences me. “I’ve got your passport.”

Everything drains out of me, and my Achilles is lanced clean through. “What?”

“I found it the night I arrived. It was on top of the fridge. Out of your eye line.” The faintest tinge of a smile is on his face. “I put it in my pocket, and I kept it. I had a million little moments I could put it somewhere you could find it, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep you here. So yeah,” he says as he walks toward the back door with Patty at his heels. “I’m not the perfect person you both require me to be.”

The screen door slaps. I go to chase him, but Jamie stops me.

“Let him cool down. Look what you’ve done.” He passes a hand over his face, rattled. “What the hell?” He looks at the back door.

“I’ve never seen him look like that,” I go again for the door but Jamie hooks his arm around my waist.

“Let me go.”

“No, I won’t.” Jamie’s holding me so hard it hurts. “If I let you walk out, that’s it. It’s going to be you and him, versus me. You’re both going to completely forget about me.”

I would reply with sarcasm but I hear the fear in his voice. “You’re not going to be cut out. Nothing changes, except for me and Tom.”

“If I find out that he’s just been hanging around me all this time to get to you, I don’t know if I can handle that. That guy is my only real friend.” Jamie’s body is defensive—arms crossed, looming over me, but his eyes are like he’s a scared kid.

“Of course that’s not true.” I put a hand on Jamie’s elbow. “Let’s all just talk about it. You stay here and manage the site. I’ll go with Tom and get his mom.”

“Okay. Take her to Mom and Dad’s.” He thinks of something. “I’m settling soon on my investment property. I’ll rent it to Tom’s mom.” Jamie notices something out the front window. “The foundation guy is here. With doughnuts.” He opens the door for him. “Yeah, come in. Hi. We’re just in the middle of a crisis, but …”

Jamie and I spend a minute or two trying to fake it that we’ve got it together. Chris marvels at the hole in the ceiling, and we pretend that it’s no big deal. We don’t have a gaping, terrible hole in the center of our universe, leaking rain like tears.

“I’ll go get Tom,” I tell them both. I walk down to my bedroom, but he’s not there. I walk up the side of the house. I am stepping alongside the prints left by my heels this morning. How fucking typical. I keep walking the same impulsive, selfish path.