Theo’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“I know. I’ve been there. Have you tried getting drunk with your brother? That’s helped me a lot, in the past.”

Ben waved at the bartender.

“First of all, I should have called you a long time ago. Second, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do right now than get drunk with my brother.”

The bartender set two more drinks down in front of them. He started to pick one up, and then paused. Shit. He had to do this first. He took a deep breath.

“There’s one other thing. Speaking of telling people things . . . there’s something else I have to tell you. A few months ago, I got an email from someone named Dawn. Dawn Stephens. She’s . . . it seems as if our dad had a daughter. After he left.”

Theo set his glass down and turned to Ben.

“How did she find you?”

Ben shrugged.

“Well, this is when you can say I told you so—it was that stupid DNA thing I did. I guess she did it, too, and she found my name, and then she emailed me.”

Theo nodded slowly.

“Did you email her back?”

He hadn’t even said he told him so.

“Yeah. At first just to see if she was really who she said she was—I thought it might be some sort of scam or something. But she sent some pictures. Of herself as a kid with him. And of herself now.”

Theo picked up his glass but didn’t take a sip.

“Did you—have you met her?”

Ben couldn’t believe Theo would ask him that.

“Of course I haven’t; I wouldn’t meet her without talking to you about it.”

Theo put down his glass.

“Well, you emailed her without talking to me about it.”

Ben turned to face him.

“I know. I’m sorry about that. I was just worried that—I wanted to make sure it was something, before I told you. And then when I knew it was, I guess . . . I guess I was scared to tell you about her. That it made the whole thing feel . . . real.”

Theo didn’t say anything, so Ben kept talking.

“I didn’t even tell her you existed. She asked me early on if I had any brothers or sisters, and I just ignored the question. I was scared that—I didn’t want anything to come between us. And I was worried that this could. That she could.”

Theo shook his head.

“Between you and me? Nothing can ever come between us. Not this, not anything else.”

Ben looked at his brother and smiled.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that now.”

Theo took off his glasses, cleaned them with a bar napkin, and put them back on.

“Well. A sister.” He looked at Ben. “I think we should meet her. Don’t you?”

Ben nodded.

“Yeah. I do.”

On the way out of the bar, a lot of bourbon later, Theo clapped his hand on Ben’s back.

“Look. I won’t talk shit about her, because you don’t want me to. But that Anna is missing out. No way she can find anyone else as great as you.”

Ben didn’t argue with his brother, even though he was pretty sure she could. He wished he could text Anna about the drunken email he and Theo had just sent to Dawn.

To: Dawn Stephens

 From: Ben Stephens

 Re: Hi

Hi Dawn

It’s Ben—and his brother Theo. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch and I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about Theo before but this whole thing has been a lot more to take in than I let on. but we were thinking

Theo here: what Ben is trying to say is, after consulting his older and wiser brother, he decided we should all meet up. Also, hi! You have two brothers! We both want to meet you!

Theo thinks he should be the one writing this email because he’s a professional at this stuff or something but I stole my phone back from him. Anyway, I’m really sorry! And yes I have an older brother and seems like you do too unfortunately for both of us. We’d love to meet you. What are you up to next weekend? We can come up to Sacramento?

Ben

 (and Theo)

 

He knew, for his own self-respect, he couldn’t text Anna about tonight. But he really wished he could.

 

* * *

 

—

Anna had warned her parents in advance she’d decided to be public about everything. She’d been worried about that—they’d never suggested that she’d keep it a secret, but they’d also never suggested she tell anyone, and she knew the past year had been hard on them, too. But they’d taken the news quietly, and had just said they supported her in anything she chose to do. She wasn’t quite sure if that meant they approved or disapproved. She knew she should be past needing the approval of her parents, but, well, she wasn’t there yet.

Nik sent Anna an email as soon as the profile was up. Anna had been waiting for it; she knew it was supposed to come out that day. Had she said everything she’d wanted to say? Had she said it in the right way? She hoped so.

As soon as she got the link to the piece from Nik, she texted it to her parents and her brother. And then she read it. And let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t love the photos they’d picked to go along with the piece, but other than that, she couldn’t find anything to complain about. Nik hadn’t misquoted her, the links to the charity she’d mentioned were all working, and she at least felt like she’d gotten all of the important things across, both about the Varon film and about mental health. She texted Florence that she could press publish on the social media posts, and told her to let the contact at the charity know they could announce her involvement.

Then her fingers hovered over one more name in her phone.

She never would have done this if it weren’t for Ben. He’d brought it up, he’d given her the idea in the first place, he’d been the one to help her deal with her shame, and think about what she could do to help others. She wanted him to know about what she’d done, but even more, she wanted to thank him.

But she couldn’t do that. Her plan was going just the way she’d wanted it to. Now that she didn’t have to stress about the Varon film and everything else, she could relax and have some fun. One of the other actors—one of the hot ones—from Vigilantes had slipped her his number at the premiere when Ben wasn’t around. The premiere had been more than three weeks ago, and she hadn’t texted that guy yet, but she should. Tonight, even. Yes, tonight, she’d text him.

She didn’t want some big love story in real life; that was just for movies. That seemed too stressful—all that relying on other people for your happiness. What if it went wrong? Then she’d just be back where she was now, but even sadder.