I left Brooklyn in the bathroom and headed down the hall to Brianna’s room, my back still aching from the earlier ordeal and a lingering nausea twisting in my stomach. Her door was half-open, and through the gap, I saw her sprawled on the bed, quietly sniffling. The room was a chaotic mess — half-opened boxes, clothes strewn across the floor, and posters still rolled up in the corner, waiting to be hung. Moving day had left everything in disarray, much like us.
Brianna hadn’t noticed me yet, too absorbed in the photo album she was clutching. I recognized it instantly — the album she and Brooklyn used to pore over for hours, flipping through memories from cheerleading competitions. On the open page, I saw a familiar picture: Brianna and Brooklyn in their matching emerald-and-silver uniforms, grinning side by side, hair tied back in high ponytails.
I stepped into the room quietly, careful not to startle her. “Hey, Bri.”
She jumped slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, clearly trying to hide the tears. “Dad, what do you want?”
I sat down on the edge of the bed, wincing as the tension in my lower back flared up again. A low groan escaped me before I could stop it, and Brianna glanced at me, concerned.
“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up a bit straighter. “You don’t look so good.”
I waved it off, doing my best to push the pain aside. “I’m fine, just overdid it with the move today.” The words felt hollow, even to me. Deep down, I knew something was wrong with my body, but I wasn’t ready to face it yet. Not when Brianna needed me.
Her eyes dropped back to the album, fingers tracing the edge of a photo. “I just... I miss him, you know? We used to do everything together. Cheerleading, sleepovers, even makeup tutorials.” She gave a weak laugh, but sadness hung in her voice. “Now it’s just me. And Brooklyn... he’s not the same.”
I took a deep breath, my heart heavy with the weight of her words. “I know, Bri. I know you miss how things used to be. But you don’t have a sister anymore.” My voice softened, but I kept it steady. “You’ve got a brother now.”
Her lip trembled, and she looked away, fighting back more tears. “But I didn’t ask for a brother, Dad. I didn’t ask for any of this.” She gestured at the album, her hand shaking. “It’s like that part of him is just... gone.”
I reached out, resting my hand on hers. “Brooklyn’s still here, Bri. He’s still part of this family, and he needs us just as much as we need him. This is hard for all of us, but it doesn’t mean you’ve lost him.”
She sniffed, tears spilling over despite her best efforts to stop them. “It’s not the same. I don’t know how to be his sister, Dad. I don’t know how to deal with all of this... with everything changing. The move, the new school, now this?” Her voice cracked. “I don’t even know where to start.”
I wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, that we’d figure it out together, but the truth was, I didn’t have all the answers either. All I could do was be there for her, the way I was trying to be there for Brooklyn.
I shifted on the bed, feeling a sharp wave of nausea hit me again. My vision swam for a moment, and I gripped the edge of the mattress, trying to steady myself. Brianna noticed, her brow furrowing in concern.
“Dad, are you sure you’re okay? You look really pale.”
I forced a weak smile, willing the nausea to pass. “Yeah, I just need to sit for a bit.”
She studied me for a long moment before hesitating, her voice softer now. “Did I hear Brooklyn scream ‘Daddy’ earlier? Like... he used to?”
I exhaled slowly, remembering the panic in Brooklyn’s voice, how he’d slipped back into old habits. “Yeah, you did,” I admitted. “He was worried about me. I wasn’t feeling great earlier.”
Her eyes widened with worry. “What happened?”
I shook my head, not wanting to alarm her. “Nothing serious. Just... not feeling well.” I reached over and squeezed her hand. “Brooklyn’s going through a lot, and so are you. But we have to keep talking, even when it’s hard. You’re still his sister, Bri. You can still be there for him.”
She sniffled again, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “I’m trying, Dad. It’s just... I don’t know how to be a good sister to a brother.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I feel like I lost my best friend.”
My heart ached for her, and I wished I could make it easier, but all I could offer was the truth. “You haven’t lost him, Bri. He’s still finding himself, and you’re figuring out how to be his sister. It’ll take time, but we’re all still here. We haven’t lost each other.”
She nodded slowly, her tears finally starting to subside. “I just wish everything wasn’t so messed up.”
“I know.” I smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “We’ll get through this. One step at a time.”
She looked up at me, her eyes red but calmer. “I hope so.” Then she hesitated before adding, “You’re really sure you’re okay? You look like you’re about to throw up.”
I chuckled softly, though the nausea still churned inside me. “I’ll be fine. Just need to rest.” I stood up slowly, my legs feeling heavier than before. “I should check on your mom. She’s been running around all day.”
Brianna gave me a tired smile. “Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
As I left her room, another sharp pain shot through my body, nearly buckling my knees. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to push through it, but it was getting harder to ignore. Something was wrong — more than just exhaustion from moving — but I didn’t have time to focus on that now. I needed to check on Rebecca.
Each step felt heavier as I made my way downstairs, the nausea tightening its grip with every movement. When I reached the bottom, I leaned against the banister for a moment, catching my breath. The living room was a mess — half-unpacked boxes stacked everywhere, crumpled paper and bubble wrap scattered across the floor. The condo still felt like a temporary stop, like we hadn’t fully settled into this new chapter of our lives.
The faint glow of the Miami skyline filtered through the large windows, casting soft shadows across the room. Rebecca was slouched on the couch, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. She looked just as exhausted as I felt — hair slightly askew, hands resting limply in her lap.
I walked over quietly and sank into the chair next to her. My back throbbed, and I had to stifle a groan as another wave of nausea hit me. I let out a long breath, rubbing the back of my neck.
Rebecca stirred at the sound, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked at me, groggy and concerned. “Everything okay with the kids?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I talked to both of them. Brianna’s struggling... she misses the way things used to be.” I paused, feeling the weight of it all. “Brooklyn’s doing his best, but today was rough for him too.”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I figured as much. This move... it’s been hard for all of us.”
“Yeah.” I leaned back, the ache in my spine growing worse. “Bri’s upset about losing her sister, and Brooklyn... he’s frustrated with his body, still dealing with needing Midol and all that. We talked, but they’re both overwhelmed.”
She nodded, her expression softening. “They’ll need time, and so will we.”
A silence fell between us, the exhaustion of the day catching up. My stomach churned again, and I closed my eyes, willing it to settle. When I opened them, Rebecca was watching me closely, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Andrew, are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been off all day.”
I hesitated, not wanting to worry her, but I couldn’t hide it anymore. “I don’t know,” I admitted quietly. “I’ve been feeling weird. Nausea, back pain... and it’s getting worse. I thought it was just the move, but now... I’m not sure.”
She sat up straighter, her worry deepening. “You need to see a doctor. This doesn’t sound like something you should ignore.”
I waved her off gently. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest tonight. Let’s not add another problem to the list right now.”
She frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she glanced around at the mess in the living room. “At least we don’t have to deal with this tonight. We can leave it for tomorrow.”
I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “Yeah, let’s just take it easy.”
We sat
in silence, the hum of the city outside a quiet backdrop. The condo still felt foreign, like we were living in someone else’s space, but there was comfort in being here together, even amid the chaos. A small reminder that no matter how difficult the changes were, we were still a family — navigating it one step at a time.
Rebecca leaned back, her eyes closing again. “We’ll get through this,” she murmured, more to herself than to me.
I glanced at her, feeling the weight of the day settling deep into my bones. “Yeah,” I said softly. “We will.”
But deep down, as another wave of nausea rolled over me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something I wasn’t prepared for. As I sat there, watching the city lights flicker in the distance, I tried to push the unease aside. Tonight, I’d rest. Tomorrow... tomorrow would come soon enough.
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