“Because his fear of losing out was greater than his need to do the right thing—same reason why he dated both you and Sarah.” He stands up and walks over to the window. “And because I think he tried to tell himself he was doing us both a favor. He’d seen how consumed I was by you for years. He’d always said I was crazy for not trying to move on. Every girlfriend, every date, I compared to you. And they all fell short. He wanted me to have a fresh start. I know this much. And Dom always thought he knew better than everyone else.”

Joe works his jaw back and forth, staring onto the street pensively.

“For Chrissake, Dom!” Joe picks up the switchboard phone on the nightstand beside him, unplugs it, and hurls it across the room. It explodes into three pieces on the wall, landing on the floor. I start crying. I’ve never been so hurt by someone, and I can’t even face Dom. I can’t tell him he is a dirtbag and an asshole and a cheat. He would be the worst thing that happened to me if he hadn’t brought Joe back into my life.

I’m lying in the bed, burying my face in my arms, weeping now. Joe’s raspy voice floats somewhere above my head.

“I thought you two were close. That you got along.” My voice is muffled as my lips move over the hard industrial linen of the hotel bed.

“We were all of those things. But ultimately, it didn’t matter. Even though Dom was the golden child—the overachiever, the prom king—I had something he never had. I was the healthy one. I was the one my parents didn’t have to worry about. I took my health for granted. I smoked in front of him. I drank excessively. We loved each other to death. We had the kind of closeness that only happens when you know you can lose someone. We went camping together and went to games together and became neighbors and hung out at least a few times a week. But ultimately, he still thought he deserved you more than I did. In his eyes, he’d paid his dues. He walked around with an inner clock that was always ticking, reminding him his time on this earth was limited.”

The bed dips, and I know Joe is next to me. It doesn’t feel as immoral as it would have a second ago. Screw Dom. Screw him all to hell. All this time I felt guilty about him, when I should’ve felt glee at kissing his brother on the day he proposed.

“You’re too good a guy,” I sigh, rubbing at my face.

“Why do you say that?” he asks gently.

“Because you stepped aside. Reluctantly, but you did.”