You'll Hate Me
I look down at the text on my phone.
**P: Can you come to Melview Park? Aiden’s not doing so well**.
Parker never texts me, so when I saw the message pop up, I knew something was wrong. The air is cold on my face and when I reach the park; I see Parker approach me as he shakes his head.
My heart lurches in my chest. “What’s going on? Where is he?”
“He’s fucking drunk.”
He looks angry, upset and not to mention that I’ve never seen Aiden drunk. It makes my stomach twist with worry and I frown. “What?”
Parker presses his lips together. “I can’t get him to leave and he keeps mumbling your name, so I texted you.”
I swallow. “Where is he?”
He runs his hand on the back of his neck and points to a bench. I see Aiden’s figure slouched on there, his shoulders shaking as he… cries?
Parker puts a set of keys in my hand. “His car is over there. I don’t know what else to do.”
My eyes are still on Aiden. “It’s okay, I’ve got it from here.”
Through he looks reluctant, he only nods and says goodbye. He places a hand on my shoulder, a pity pat.
I hurry over to Aiden, his head hanging low and my footsteps echoing against the quiet night.
As I reach him, he looks up with a glazed expression, his eyes red-rimmed and unfocused.
“Hey,” he says, his voice thick, and a little slurred. “Where’s Parker?”
He looks over my shoulder, his head bobbing as he looks for his friend.
“He left,” I huff, lowering myself onto the bench beside him. I have to press my lips together and hold my breath when the bitter smell of alcohol slaps me in the face.
It reminds me of mother and her terrible drunken nights. It makes me want to throw up all over the floor in front of me, but I manage to hold it back.
“You don’t have to be here,” he whispers, running his hand over his hair. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“Of course I’m going to be here.”
He groans, leaning back on the bench.
“Aiden, what’s going on?” I ask. “You smell disgusting by the way.”
He lets out a low, humorless chuckle. “Yeah. Well, I needed something to take the edge off.”
I blink, looking around the park to make sure we’re alone in the darkness. I have a gut feeling that something it goin to go wrong and the lump in my throat worsens.
“You have no idea what it’s like, knowing he’s coming back.”
That knot in my stomach, tightens so hard I might as well be physically crumpling to the floor. I return a wary gaze to him.
“Zaid?” I ask cautiously.
His head dips in a stiff nod. His entire demeanor changes; his jaw clenches, hands turn into tight fists and he leans forward, pressing his elbows onto his knees and dropping his head on his hands.
His fingers dig into his hair and he pulls on the strands until he grunts.
I realize then that it’s worse than I thought. This isn’t just some tension between them. It’s something more and part of me is scared of figuring out what it is.
Aiden stays where he is, his voice muffled and distant. “I didn’t always hate him.”
I know that, but it stop the words from leaving my mouth. “You hate him?”
His shoulder shake with an incredulous laugh. “My own brother. Hate him my whole life.”
I swallow, uncertain what to say.
Aiden scoffs, leaning back to look at me with an unreadable expression. “Did you know he was in the car with my mom when she died?”
I’m struck silent, my heart sinking. My body wants to fail, to stop breathing all together. I close my eyes for a moment, taking that in.
Zaid of all people knows what it feels like.
And all those times I threw it in his face that my family died in a car accident.
“Is that were his scars are from?” I whisper.
Aiden frowns, eyes turning dark. “What?”
I exhale a dry breath, immediately regretting my words. This is a conversation we cannot have now, especially when he’s drunk. I clear my throat and instead answer his question. “No… I didn’t know that.”
He frowns, but he continues, slumping into the bench. “Mom died, but he walked away. Only scratches.”
I reach out to him, running my fingers through his hair. “That’s why you hate him?”
He begins to nod but then he catches himself. “No.”
His eyes shut close as he now shakes his head. He hisses through the pain in his head and slides down until his ass is on the floor and his back against the edge of the bench.
He leans his head to the side and it falls against my thight.
I watch him, but I’m not here. My heart is hammering in my chest. I’m thinking about Zaid and the scars he showed me in the bathroom. The conversations we had in the diner. the way he looked so broken to know that I chose Aiden over him.
“He never talks about it, you know?”
It’s like he’s whispering to himself, so I don’t say anything. But in my head I remember Zaid’s words: No one asks me about her. No one wants to talk about her. I feel like I’m the only one that remembers her.
“He never says a word. Just... acts like it didn’t happen.” He swipes a hand across his face, clearly struggling to hold back whatever’s bubbling up inside.
“Have you asked him about it?” I suggest softly.
He laughs. “Fuck no.”
I swallow.
With a groan, a deep rumble in his throat, he stands up. “But that’s not even all of it!”
His voice is wide, breaking rhrough the air as I watch him with wide eyes. He paces in front of me until he stops before me, leaning down to place his hands beside my thighs.
“You’ll hate me if I tell you,” he whispers. There’s a raw vulnerability in his eyes that pulls at my chest. He’s being honest, open. Moreso than he’s been since Zaid confronted him at the park.
I can’t help the spike in my heartbeat, my ears ringing as I stay quiet. Maybe it’ll keep him talking if I don’t pull him of the moment.
He closes his eyes, like he’s fighting an internal battle. When he opens them, they’re filled with anguish. “I want to tell you. It’s eating me alive.”
My heart skips a beat and I lick my lips from the anticipation. Is he finally going to tell me what he’s been hiding? “It’s okay, you can tell me.”
A grimace crumples his expression. “What if telling you means I lose you, too?” His voice breaks, and I feel my heart twist at his words.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t understand,” he says, a haunted look in his eyes. “If you knew everything, you’d look at me differently. You’d look at him differently. And I’d lose... everything.”
A desperation claws at me, I have to know the truth. “Aiden, tell me.”
But he only shakes his head, his face filled with defeat. “You’ll break up with me. Ask me to stop.”
I frown, heat crawling up my cheeks when he leans down low enugh to where his breath fans my ear.
“You’ll ask me to stop fucking that pretty pussy of yours.”
I scoff, shoving at his shoulders. “Fuck off, Aiden. That’s what you’re worried about?”
I slip from underneath him and step to the side, groaning when I eye the bulge in his pants. I thought alcohol was supposed to make it harder for them to get it up.
“See, I’ve already gone and messed it up.”
I shake my head, “Get in the fucking car, Aiden. We’re leaving.”
He looks at me with heavy eyes and slumped shoulders.
I point my finger at him. “And when you sober up, we’re talking.”
He whines but still follows me when I make my way to the car.
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