“Why are you getting so mad, brother?” he goads. “You proved me right.” He laughs, hanging from my clenched fists.

I throw him back down on the couch, his raspy erratic laughter echoing in my ears as I turn my back to pace my floor.

He’s trying to get under my skin, hitting me where it hurts. This is a blood sport for him. But I did prove him right, and that’s probably what she actually thinks; that she was a fling. Good enough to fuck, but not good enough to date.

I twist around, pointing my finger in his face. “Why do you hate me so fucking much?”

He crosses one leg over the other and stretches his arms, resting them on the back of my couch. “What are you talking about? You’re my brother… I love you.”

I narrow my eyes on him and laugh, taking one step closer. “This can’t just be about jealousy…” I say, baring my teeth. “Did mom give me more attention, is that it? Dad took me to one too many dinners without inviting you?”

“I’m not fucking jealous of you. Why would I be?” His jaw tightens as a deep shade of red inches up his neck.

“No, that’s it, isn’t it?” I taunt, finally wanting to get to bottom of this cluster-fuck of a relationship. “You’re jealous, aren’t you? You were the only child, then they brought me home, and you had to share.”

“Shut up,” he spits, bringing his clenched fists into his lap.

“Share their time, their home, their affection… Just admit it,” I keep pushing, stepping closer as my shadow casts over him. “You wish they would have left me in the fucking gutter where they found me, all so you’d have them to yourself. What’s the matter, Hayden? All the money in the world wasn’t enough?”

“Shut up…” His tone was shaking, losing the battle to remain in control. The tables turning, poisoning him with his own venom.

“The ivy league education wasn’t enough?”

“Shut the fuck up, Aleck.” He sits up straight, clearly on the verge of losing his fucking shit. So I push. I push the same way he does when he wants to see me break.

“College-level tutors in junior high, a maid, a Benz when you turned sixteen, a goddamned all-state lacrosse championship—”

Hayden snaps from his seat and pushes me. “Shut up!”

I stumble back but gain my footing and step back into his face, nose to nose.

“Nothing was enough for you,” I continue. “You had everything, and I had nothing, and you still hated me. Why?”

“Because from the moment you came into my life, everything went to shit,” he shouts, his spit hitting my cheek.

I throw my arms open. “I was ten!”

“So was I!”

I stare Hayden down, and he does the same. My chest sliced wide open, heaving so hard I feel like I could puke. I take a deep, cleansing breath and lower my voice.