Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card

FADE AWAY

JOSH

The roar of the crowd was deafening as I ran onto the field, the cold air biting at my skin. The stakes were higher than ever-this game would decide whether we went to the Super Bowl. My mind was laser-focused, but not on the right things.

The tension inside me had been building for weeks, maybe months. Every time I thought about Laura, lying in that bed, motionless, something inside me twisted, turned sharp. I channeled it all into the game, into every snap, every hit. And maybe I was taking it too far. "Josh, man," Luke jogged up to me during a huddle, lowering his voice. "You good? You've been off today."

"Just focus on the game, Luke," I snapped, not bothering to look at him.

Luke frowned but nodded, backing off.

When the play restarted, I was on fire, charging down the field with an intensity that bordered on reckless. The opposing defender squared up to block me, and I didn't just push past him-I drove into him, shoulders low, practically throwing him to the ground. The refs blew the whistle, flags flying everywhere.

"Unnecessary roughness, offense, number 86!"

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Luke was in my face before I could even step off the field. "What the hell was that?" he barked, grabbing my jersey to pull me back as tempers flared on both sides.

I shrugged him off, glaring. "Back off, Luke."

"Josh-"

"I said back off!"

the field, benching me for the rest of the game. I sat there on the sidelines, seething. The game unfolded without me, but in the end, we won, securing our spot in the Super Bowl. The victory should've felt good, but all

electric. I toweled off, keeping to myself. When

is cooking dinner. Gotta get back to her and the kids. You

good. Asha's with the nanny. She loves her-it's

are you going to come home? Living in that apartment

know I can't

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"She's alive, Josh."

rising. "She's never fucking waking up! Don't

on me. I didn't care. I grabbed

like a slap in the face. I stood there for a moment, my chest heaving, trying to calm down. But Luke's

But it didn't feel like

my car, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw a text from

you, and when you're coming home. Also... she asked

the gut. Asha was three. Too little to understand why her mom wasn't coming home

keyboard, but I didn't know what to type. What could I say? That I couldn't face it? That I didn't

my pocket and leaned against the car,

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