The Plus One (A Brush With Love, #3)

by Mazey Eddings

While Chris worked from home, he wasn’t much into cooking, and most nights Indira was too tired from her long shifts at the children’s outpatient center to want to whip anything up. They were in a rut of delivered food eaten in silence as they scrolled through their phones, together in the most disconnected way possible.

“Surpri—” The unexpected sound of lusty moans killed the greeting in her throat.

Oh nooo

It was the soul-shattering howl of her cat, Grammy, that finally snapped Indira out of her daze.

“You don’t understand. This is different. You and I … we haven’t been happy for months. I—” Indira stopped in her tracks, eyes so cold and hard Chris slammed his mouth shut.

“Finished a five-month assignment at a women’s clinic in Sierra Leone,” he said with detachment, even though pieces of his broken soul still lingered in the small graveyard attached to the clinic’s adjacent church.

Jude wasn’t allowed to feel good when he was the reason some people couldn’t feel anything ever again.

“Well,” Dr. Koh said after Indira was silent for a minute. “That is quite a lot to think about.” Indira shot Dr. Koh a look at that massive understatement.

“Fair. But what about on a more emotional level?” Indira blew out a breath. Fuck if she knew. “Fuck if I know,” Indira answered honestly.

“No,” Indira said, her voice rising. She cared about her patients—their well-being, their path to wellness—so deeply, it was offensive to even imagine doing those things.

But admitting that, shining a floodlight on those dark corners of her thoughts, would make all that hurt she kept bottled away more real. More painful.

The siblings seemed to honor their Greek and Italian roots primarily by seeing who could talk louder, with Jeremy reveling in the noise.

“Pick me. Choose me. Love me,” Collin whispered in time with Meredith Grey on the TV, pressing his head against the back of the couch as he blinked past his tears. When the episode ended, Jude stood up, pacing a circle around the living room, hands planted on his hip as he fought off crying too.

Acting on impulse, Jude jumped up, moving to the foot of the stairs, a familiar surge of fear punching along his spine, part of him pulled toward the sound of someone needing help, the other part wanting to sprint away from the noise.

Jude was discovering that one of his newest issues with Indira— on the very long list—was that she’d grown up to be terrifyingly beautiful, and it regularly caught him off guard.

Collin didn’t talk about his dad’s leaving often, but when he did, it came out drunkenly and saturated in hurt; in questions of loss and confusion.

“Did he call you?” Collin asked, the tiny touch of hope in his voice plummeting Jude’s heart even lower.

Jude’s heart thrummed and his palms turned clammy at the increasing volume, the noise resting like a weight on his chest as he tried to breathe normally. “Excuse me for wanting a relationship with the man,” Collin said, throwing his arms out to the side, making Jude flinch at the sudden movement.

Jude had heard Indira and Collin bicker before. Hell, growing up, neither of them had had a conversation without someone ending up raising their voice.

Don, an imposing but gentle man, quiet in nature, walked in, eyes going wide as he took in Jude. With a sharp inhale, Don moved forward, embracing his son.

He was once again frozen by the all-too-familiar weight of his disjointed mind, slow to process, distrusting of everything good.

Jude’s heart tipped out of his chest, shattering on the linoleum floor.

“Your best sauce to date,” Don said through a mouthful, smiling at his wife. “You say that every week,” Maria responded, giving him a playful swat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Indira shrieked, jolting upright in a movement that dragged Jude’s eyes down. “No. No!” Jude bellowed back, slapping a hand over his face as he hurled his body against the closed door.

“Get me out of here!” Jude howled, turning fully to the door as he continued to search for the handle.

“Seems like pretty advanced stuff for you,” Indira said coolly, nodding at the TV that was playing a children’s show at full volume. A cartoon pig sprouted wings and started to fly while counting stars. “I like to push myself,” Jude responded, eyes glued to the screen and palms sweaty as he grabbed the remote and clicked to Netflix’s homepage.

“Think it might rain on Tuesday,” he said, cracking his knuckles and switching his gaze to her other shoulder.

Jude swallowed, then licked his lips, looking up at her. “Let me do this for you, Dira,” he uttered, holding her gaze for the first time since he’d been back. Indira blinked, then slowly held out her hand for him. “Okay.”

“That’s wild,” Jude said, sucking in lungfuls of cool air as he picked up the pace.

Jude nodded, a weird achy weight settling on his shoulders as he tried to relate to the feeling. He couldn’t.

Jude tripped over his feet, nearly belly-slapping the pavement. Collin caught him by the elbow.

surprised, albeit relieved, at how little she missed Chris, but seeing him flaunt his new infatuation was a particularly bitter pill to swallow.

Why the fuck is he here?

I just want to make sure you’re taking this seriously. Look at Rake—he’s already completed two.” Rake blushed and bowed his head with a smile like a teacher’s pet.

“Maturity is a social construct upheld by the patriarchy with an incredibly narrow, white, cis, neurotypical scope to enforce conformity and then implemented as an othering and shaming tactic for anyone that steps outside of that paradigm.”

Oh please

A rough sound from across the table grabbed Indira’s attention. It was the echo of a memory, rusty and worn, but still recognizable. Jude had laughed.

Indira stared at him, and Jude looked back, eyes wide like the sound had surprised him too.

“Mmm. Explosive diarrhea.” Indira nodded sagely, looking between Jude and the bathroom door. She couldn’t help herself. Being around Jude turned her into a snarky teenager ready to battle, and after that taste of his laugh, she wanted to pull him back out. Just like old times. Jude closed his eyes and huffed out an amused breath. “I’m not sure if you meant that as a question, but it certainly sounded like a declarative statement, so don’t let me stop you.” He waved toward the door.

Her chest ached as she felt the hurt radiating out of him.

Indira rubbed her hand over her chest, a soft ache growing as she sifted through the memories.

Indira was getting a bit sick of these extended silences of Dr. Koh’s, hot damn.

“I sometimes wonder how I’m allowed to be a psychiatrist when I still carry all of these issues,” she whispered, giving words to the fear that kept her up at night.

Your emotional struggles as a human are not a moral judgment of your worth, and they’re not a reflection on your ability to help others.”

He tore out of bed, needing to escape before he got stuck in the in-between permanently.

“What are you watching?” he asked, sitting stiffly on the sofa with as much space between them as possible. “Bob’s Burgers,” she said, hitting play on the paused cartoon. “But only the Thanksgiving specials.”

Today was actually a really good day. I’ve been working with this little boy for a few months now, but he wouldn’t speak—and after what he’s been through in such a short life, I can’t blame him.” Indira paused, chewing on her lower lip. “But I decided to try something new today and I took him outside to sit in the sunshine. He was hesitant at first, but slowly, he relaxed. He rubbed his sweet little hands over the grass, dug his fingers into the dirt. Raised his face to the sun and actually smiled. And then he talked—just a few sentences—but I almost cried I was so happy to hear his voice.”

After what felt like an eternity, she finally blinked away and turned back to the TV. Instead of feeling relieved and freed from the intensity of her stare, Jude had the distinct sense of falling backward, like she’d just cut the rope while he dangled over the edge of a cliff. What the hell was wrong with him?

He glanced at her, and gave his most genuine attempt at a smile. It was slow and hesitant and probably looked more terrifying than anything, but he had to try.

He had to get a grip. He had to find control. He crammed all these conflicting, confusing emotions into tiny separate boxes, dragging them to the furthest corners of his mind, hoping they’d stay locked and collect dust.

Even her bizarre, mangy cat joined in, perching on the arm of the couch and staring at him with intermittent slow blinks.

After what felt like an eternity, she lifted her hand in a tiny wave, one side of her mouth kicking up. Jude didn’t know what to do. He felt so disconnected from his limbs and body, it was hard to know what a normal response would be. But he felt himself mimic the gesture, and Indira’s small smile grew a bit.

The bar erupted in movement and sound—the scrape of chairs on the sticky floor and the bang of tables as they were pushed against the wall, Collin holding his phone up to the microphone as he played the Jeopardy! theme song—all of it wedging apart Jude’s nerves.