Jamie Brodie 01 - Cited to Death

wouldn’t worry about Diane. She’s the one who needs to apologize to you. Kevin will forgive you, and he shouldn’t be yelling at you anyway. But Pete is not going to put his life on hold forever waiting for you to come to your senses. And it’s time for you to do that. To come to your senses, I mean. If the universe is pushing you in one direction, which it clearly is, then trying to maintain your position is pointless. It expends a lot of energy, and you won’t win. Tell me the truth. Do you have feelings for Pete?”
    “Well, yeah – I mean, um-” I stopped. And admitted it. “Yeah, I do.”
    “Then for Pete’s sake, pun intended, get back to his place and tell him.”
    I groaned. “It’s not that easy.”
    “Yes, it is. At least talk to him. Graciously accept his offer of staying with him, apologize to him for being an idiot, and see where it goes.”
    I sighed. “I’ll try.”
    “Okay. And tell Kevin that I said to stop yelling at you.”
    I laughed a little. “I will definitely do that.”
    We hung up. I sat there for a few more minutes, staring off into the distance. Then I started the car.
    By the time I got back to the condo, it was nearly 7:00. Pete was home when I got there. I’d been half afraid he wouldn’t be and half afraid he would. I dropped my stuff at the foot of the stairs and collapsed onto one of the chairs at the dinette table, rubbing my face with my hands. Pete sat down across the table from me.
    “What did the apartment manager say?”
    “They don’t have anything. They won’t have anything for months unless someone breaks their lease. So, if your offer still stands to let me stay with you until our place is finished, then I accept.”
    “Of course it still stands. You’re welcome to be here as long as you like.” Then: "Jamie?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Why are you so resistant to letting me help you?"
    I looked up at him. "It’s not that I'm resistant..."
    "Then what is it?" Pete was obviously in distress. I hated this. "What are you afraid of?"
    I was too tired and stressed out for anything but honesty. "That you'll get the wrong idea."
    "About what?"
    "About me. About what I'm looking for from you. I'm not looking for anything from anyone. I can handle this myself. I can handle my life myself. I'm tired of being only seen as the little brother. I'm a grown man, and I can take care of myself."
    Pete's face shifted to something gentler. "I don't see you as a little brother. I definitely see you as a grown man. I always have."
    "Really?"
    "Yes, really." Pete sighed. "I know you can take care of yourself, but why should you have to? None of us should have to. We're not made to go through life alone."
    "I think maybe I was."
    "No, you weren't. Listen to me. What Ethan did to you was inexcusable, but -"
    "I do not want to talk about Ethan."
    "Okay, let's talk about you. You were the one who said historians dwell on the past, and that’s exactly what you’re doing. Because of what Ethan did to you, you've shut yourself off from letting anyone else get close to you. From letting anyone else try to love you. You keep hooking up with these flimsy guys -"
    "Flimsy guys? Is that a psychological term?"
    "It should be. Flimsy guys. Guys without substance. You pick guys that you think won't stay with you so you can keep proving to yourself over and over that you're not worth staying with..."
    I was getting mad. "Enough with the psychoanalysis, please?"
    Pete was getting mad too. "I am not analyzing you. I am trying to convince you that you are your own worst enemy. I've watched you set yourself up for failure over and over and sink lower and lower in your own estimation, and it's killing me. It's killing me. Because..." His voice broke and he stopped.
    I was almost afraid to ask. "Because why?"
    His voice was softer. "Because it doesn't have to be that way. Because you're such a great guy, and you're definitely worth staying with. You're worth so much more than that. You deserve a guy that sees that and wants to build a life with you." He pushed back and stood up. "I'm not saying this very well."
    "It's been a long day. Maybe you're not thinking very clearly."
    He leaned back against the counter and put his hands in his pockets. "No, I'm thinking fine. But I'm afraid to tell you exactly what I feel, I guess."
    That was supposed to be my line. "Why? You've just told me some pretty hard stuff."
    He looked at his feet. "Because I'm afraid that I'll scare you away for good, because you're