“No.” He shook his head and looked at me like I’d grown two. “Who the hell do you think picked him up at the hospital that day? Me.” He tapped his chest with his hand. “I’m the one he called. I’m the one who had to coax the words out of him when he walked out of the emergency department covered in your blood. I’m the one who had to make up some bullshit story to our parents about why he wouldn’t speak for the next four days before he left for basic. So excuse me if I just want him to finally be happy!”
