The Home-wrecker (The Goode Brothers)
The Home-wrecker: Chapter 41

“Dean!” Abby shouts from the living room as I walk into the house.

It’s nearly eleven when I decide to come see Briar. Caleb is at work, but at this point, I feel comfortable just walking into the house.

The night before last, when we got back from the nursing home, I just needed to be alone. Seeing my dad like that was a lot. I didn’t expect it to hit me so hard. Especially the moments when he looked at me as if he didn’t know me.

I knew this day was coming, but feeling its presence now is more than I can handle. A part of me wants to feel this pain alone. I want to grieve and be in anguish by myself so they don’t see the dark parts.

But at the same time, the way they covered me in love and support meant everything.

Abby bolts from the couch, wrapping her arms around my legs. “Hey,” I say, patting her head. “Where’s your mom?”

“Upstairs, I think,” she replies.

I wait with Abby in the living room for Briar to come down, but when there’s no sign of her after a few minutes, I get concerned.

“Stay down here,” I say to Abby, who jumps back onto the couch to watch TV.

Then I rush up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“Briar?” I call with concern. Scenarios flash through my mind—like, what if she fell and hurt herself? Or she’s sick?

When I hear sniffles coming from her room, I pick up my pace, bolting around the corner.

As I reach the doorway to the en suite bathroom, I freeze.

“Go away,” she cries.

I can’t move as I stare at Briar, trying to make sense of it all. She’s sitting on the toilet, her face wet with tears.

“What’s wrong?” I stammer, coming toward her.

“Dean, go!” she shouts, clearly erratic and emotional.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t want to see this,” she replies. I’ve never seen her so angry, and it has me scared. Is it something I did?

“See what?” When I take a step toward her, I spot a streak of blood along her inner thigh. Then I notice the underwear around her ankles bears a giant, wet, red spot.

I release a sigh, my shoulders melting away from my ears as she covers her face with her hands and cries. Then everything clicks into place.

“Fuck,” I mumble, dropping to my knees in front of her.

“Please go,” she cries.

“No,” I reply. Resting my hands on her thighs, I rub her softly, hoping I can give her at least a little bit of fucking comfort. “Briar, I’m so sorry.”

I know how long she and Caleb have been trying, and I know how hopeful they were that this time would do the trick. Her disappointment guts me.

She cries some more. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

I pull some tissue paper from the roll and blot at her face. When she opens her eyes, she tries to shove me away again. “Dean, stop. This is disgusting.”

“No, it’s not,” I argue, leaning closer. “You think I’m afraid of a little blood?”

I take the wadded-up tissue from her and throw it in the trash. Then I get another piece and clean her face some more. Her eyes are bloodshot with swollen bags under them, and it breaks my heart to think about how long she’s been in here crying alone.

She’s staring at me as her eyes and nose continue to leak. Once the crying has stopped, I pull the underwear from around her ankles, shoving them into the trash, too. I’ll buy her new ones, but she shouldn’t have to see them anymore.

Then, I pull more toilet paper from the roll, folding it up delicately and easing her thighs apart. She lets out a small hiccup of surprise as I begin to wipe her clean. There is more blood than I expected, but I don’t react. I just keep wiping as gently as I can.

“Dean…” she whispers. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t,” I reply, throwing the paper in the toilet and getting some more. “But it seems cruel to make you do it.” Then I glance up and stare into her eyes. “You’ve been through enough.”

Her lip trembles as tears fill her eyes again.

With delicate care, I wipe her until she’s clean. Then I place a soft kiss against each of her knees, rubbing her thighs softly.

“Where do you keep your tampons?” I ask.

She sniffles. “Bottom drawer.”

“Don’t move.” Rising from the floor, I go to the bathroom cabinet, pull out the tampon, and take it back to the toilet. She’s still wiping her tears when I kneel back between her legs.

I unwrap the applicator and gently insert it for her. She stares at me in shock as I care for her, but I just want to give her something. Some comfort or relief. I wish I could fucking help her so she never had to feel this pain anymore.

A little period blood doesn’t faze me, but I know how much it breaks her heart. Helping her is the least I can do.

I won’t ask her to talk about it now. I’m sure she needs time, but there’s a part of me that is protective of her. And I hate that she’s putting herself through this. When will enough be enough?

After she’s clean, I wash my hands and find her some fresh underwear and sweatpants from the dresser in the bedroom. When she stands from the toilet, I ease the underwear and pants into place. Then, I kiss her head.

She buries her face against my chest. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Briar. I’d do anything for you. Why don’t you lie down for a little while,” I say. “Can I bring you anything?”

She shakes her head before walking to her bed and lying on top of the covers.

“Just try to relax, okay?” I say.

She nods. “I will.”

“Mo-om!” Abby’s small voice calls from downstairs. I stand from the bed.

“I’ve got her,” I say, leaving Briar’s side. I turn off the main light and close the curtains so the room is dim for her.

“Where’s Mommy?” Abby asks when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

“She’s not feeling well. Leave your mom alone for a while.” I ruffle the hair on top of her head.

“I’m hungry,” she says, clutching her stomach like she’s about to die of starvation.

“You’re always hungry.”

“Will you make me something?” she asks.

“Sure. What do you want?” I reply, leading her to the kitchen.

She hops up on the dining room chair. “Um…macaroni and cheese.”

“Good choice.”

Rummaging through the pantry, I find the box of mac and cheese. While I cook, Abby colors at the table. Watching her while the water boils, I feel this strange warmth in my chest.

She’s annoying as hell and messy and gross and can’t hold still for one fucking second, but dammit…she’s pretty cute at the same time. And if anyone hurt a single hair on her head, I’d kill them.

While Abby and I eat our lunch, I send a quick text to my dad.

Hey, something came up. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop by before work. But I’ll be there tomorrow.

He doesn’t respond, but I don’t think about it too much. After lunch, Abby wants to play outside. Before we go, I jog up the stairs to check on Briar. She’s sleeping peacefully on her bed, nuzzled up in a thick, white robe. I drape a blanket over her legs and kiss her head.