Arrogant Boss

“Good,” she grumbled back. “Glad to hear my words have reached you.”

They had.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

That was the problem-now I had to decide whether I was brave enough to swallow my pride and admit I was wrong. Admit that I wanted something unknown, to throw myself out there. Being with Julian was like nothing I had ever experienced before. It would be the greatest adventure of my life.

When I arrived home that evening, Turner was rummaging through our pantry. Bottle after bottle of laundry detergent and old cleaning solutions were unceremoniously deposited in a black trash bag. I leaned against the doorway, still sweaty and sad, and watched him work.

He finally turned. “Oh. Hey. Didn’t hear you come in.”

“I should have made more noise.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You didn’t scare me. Did you know that we have a detergent that expired in 2007?”

“Nope. I don’t think Nan or I ever really ever went through that cupboard. I’ve just sort of been filling the front shelves with what we need and using that.”

“Well, all of it should go.”

I smiled and glanced down at the package of dried sponges he was holding. “Does it spark joy?”

He snorted and tossed the expired rags into the bag. “I’ll never understand that. Either something is useful, or it’s not. There is no in between.”

I took a seat on the sofa and watched him work. “Well, sometimes things are sentimental in value.”

“I suppose,” he said and tied the black trash bag shut. This was such a massive thing for us, cleaning out the old house. For so many years I had tried to keep everything as it had been right when Mom and Dad passed. To keep the routines, to ensure that as little as possible changed for Turner. We’d stuck to the schedule religiously, never straying, and it had become as much a source of comfort for him as for me.

But looking at him now, I realized that my little brother had become a young man. With his shoulders back, he looked handsome, quiet and strong.

When had that happened?

“Hey,” I said. “When did you grow taller than me?”

“When I was sixteen and you were twenty-one. Why?”

I didn’t answer, just watched him work quietly, unable to contain the emotions raging inside of me. It all felt like too much.

Turner glanced over at me when I didn’t respond.

His eyes widened. “Em? You’re crying?”

I nodded, feeling like I’d dropped the ball entirely. I was supposed to be strong and happy, to keep working towards goals and to be the supportive big sister. Yet I was failing completely.

Turner sank down next to me on the couch. “Why? Are you hurt?”

I watched him scan me, looking for signs of pain, and shook my head. “No. This is emotional.”

He nodded once and leaned back, visibly relieved by my statement. “Okay. Good. Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

I took a deep breath and pulled my legs up beneath me. I tugged at a loose thread on our beige couch and wondered where on earth I should start.

“Are you happy at work? At Hunt?”

He nodded. “Yes. I enjoy it. Why? Did something happen at work?”

“No,” I said shakily. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been circling apartments in the newspaper. Do you want to move out?”

Turner face split into a sudden, unexpected smile as his gaze flicked between me and the bookshelves behind me. “No. I don’t need my own place. I’ve been trying to hint to you that you could move out if you wanted to.”

“Turner!” I hit his leg playfully, and his grin grew wider. “It’s not like you to be so sneaky!”

“I know. But I thought you might be sad if I brought it up directly, so I tried to plant the idea in your mind.”

“You’ve watched Inception too many times.”

“That’s not possible,” he replied immediately. “It is a masterpiece.”

I smiled and watched him, wiping away the remnants of my tears. “Why do you think I should move out?”

His gaze flicked away from me entirely and settled on the view to the patio, his hand playing with his watch like he always did when he was nervous.

“You had to give up a lot of things when Mom and Dad died, for me. But you need to live your own life now too. You’ve taken care of me for long enough. Not that I want you to stop, but… we can’t live in the past. I’m good.”

New tears threatened to choke me up. Turner was so rarely willing to share his internal, emotional life with me, that any bits and pieces he revealed I held close to my heart.

“Turner,” I said, unable to continue.

“I have a job. You have a job. I think it would be good for you to have your own place. The settlement left us both with enough money to branch out, plus I want more space for a server I plan on building.”

I swallowed, hard. It was so typical of him to suggest this so matter-of-fact, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like we wouldn’t be splitting apart for the first time since he’d been born.

“I’d still want to eat dinner together a few times weekly,” I said immediately. “And you have to continue replying to all my texts.”

“Even the ones that don’t make any sense?”

“Especially those,” I nodded. “Yes.”

The small smile was back on his face. “Alright. Deal. And you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad? Turner, you’re the best little brother a girl can have. No, of course I’m not mad.”

“Good.” A faint blush crept up on his cheeks and he rocked forward a bit. I knew he disliked emotional conversations, found them trying, but I knew I had to keep going while I had the courage.

“But you might be mad with me. I have to tell you something. It’s not something I should have kept from you.”

His eyes flicked to mine for a brief moment. “Tell me.”

“I’ve been seeing Julian for the last couple of weeks.”

Turner gave a slow nod. “At work, yes.”