The sound of cutlery clinking against ceramic filled the kitchen, too loud for a morning that was supposed to be calm. Every scrape of a fork or clatter of a cup echoed like thunder in my chest.
Tyler sat to my left, our shoulders so close that if he moved a little his would brush against mine. Across the table sat Katie, her expression polite and distant, though her fingers gripped the edge of her mug so tightly her knuckles were white.I still can believe she's even her. My mom hovered near the stove, pretending to focus on the scrambled eggs she'd already overcooked. Mr. Morgan sat beside her, sipping his coffee in small, tense gulps.
No one spoke. It was like something was in the air that restricted them from talking or whatever it was is forbidden.
I kept my eyes on my plate, watching the syrup from my pancakes form slow, sticky circles. I hadn't eaten a real breakfast in months, but my appetite was gone the second we sat down. My pulse thrummed in my ears like a warning.
Then Mom broke the silence.
"Tyler," she said softly, turning from the counter. Her tone was gentle, but the kind of gentle that came right before something heavy. "Ben."
Both our heads snapped up. Her gaze moved between us as if searching for answers on our faces . "What exactly is going on with you two?"
The question hung in the air like smoke. Katie froze mid-bite. Mr. Morgan set his mug down too hard, the clink echoing across the table.
"Mom..." I started, but she lifted a hand.
"No, Ben. I need to understand. You've both been acting… strange since you came home. Avoiding everyone, disappearing and whispering like..." She stopped herself, biting her lip. "I just need to know if there's something I should be worried about."
Worried. The word hit like a slap.
Tyler cleared his throat, trying to stay calm. "Mrs Jennifer, there's nothing..."
"Don't," she cut in. "Don't lie to me, Tyler. I've known you since you were a boy. You two come down here together, looking..." Her voice faltered, eyes flicking between us, full of questions she didn't want the answers to. "Different."
Katie finally spoke, voice dripping with disbelief. "Different? That's what we're calling it?" Her laughter was sharp, bitter. "You should've seen them upstairs. You don't have to be a genius to figure out what's going on."
"Katie," Tyler said warningly, his jaw tightening.
"No, go ahead," I said quietly, staring at her. "Say it."
She folded her arms. "You're sleeping with him, aren't you?"
The air shattered. My mom gasped softly. Mr. Morgan's expression hardened, though he didn't say anything , not yet. Tyler's face went pale, his hands curling into fists on the table.
"Katie!' he said again "That's enough."
"Is it?" she snapped. "You think I'm stupid? Everyone saw the way you looked at him before college. And now? You come home and suddenly you're both acting like...like this!"
Her voice cracked at the end, breaking beneath the anger. There was pain there, hidden under the venom, and that somehow made it worse.
Tyler stood abruptly, the chair legs screeching against the floor. "You don't get to talk about him like that."
"Oh, but I do," she shot back. "Because you never once looked at me the way you look at him."
Silence again. But this time, it wasn't empty. It was full of everything that couldn't be unsaid.
Mom sat down slowly, her face pale. "Is that true?" she asked in a whisper.
Tyler looked at her, then at me. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and for a moment, I saw the same fear I felt reflected in his eyes. But he didn't look away. Not this time.
"Yes," he said quietly. "It's true."
My heart stopped. He said it, out loud. The truth neither of us had dared to say in front of anyone else. It should've felt freeing. But instead, it burned.
I inhaled then exhaled ,"its not like we are sleeping sleeping but we've been intimate." I dont even know why I was explaining but i felt the need to. "And I never meant for you to find out this way, I'm sorry mom." I was on the verge of crying already.
Mom's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Ben…"
"I'm sorry," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. "We didn't mean for it to..."
"For what?" she demanded softly, her tone trembling between disbelief and heartbreak. "For you to fall for each other? For this to happen under our roof?"
Mr. Morgan finally spoke. "That's enough, Jenny."
She turned on him. "No, it's not! We blended this family thinking we were giving our sons something stable, something safe. And now…" She gestured helplessly between us. "Now it feels like everything's falling apart."
Tyler stepped forward slightly. "Mrs. Reed—"
"Stop calling me that," she said quietly. "If you really care about my son, stop pretending this is something simple. He is your brother for crying out loud."
"No we are not and It's not simple," he said, his voice firm but steady. "It's not wrong either."
Mr. Morgan's eyes hardened. "You're brothers now."
"We're not," Tyler snapped. "We're not blood, we didn't grow up together. You married his mom when we were already practically adults."
"That doesn't make it right," he shot back.
"And lying to us for years did?" Tyler's tone cracked, frustration and hurt bleeding through. "You think any of this is easy? You think we wanted this?"
The words stung. Because part of me knew he was right , we hadn't planned this. We'd fought it, denied it, destroyed ourselves trying to stay apart. But the heart has its own logic, cruel and relentless.
Katie stood abruptly, her chair scraping the floor. "You're disgusting," she spat, voice trembling. "Both of you." Then she turned and stormed out, the slam of the front door shaking the walls.
Mom flinched. Mr. Morgan exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. "This isn't how we wanted things to be," he said quietly. "You're both adults now, yes, but you're still part of this family. And what you're doing..." He shook his head. "It's going to cause pain, no matter how you try to justify it."
"Maybe it already has," I murmured.
Tyler turned toward me, his eyes softening. "Ben…"
I shook my head. I couldn't look at him. Not with everyone's disappointment pressing down on us like a storm we'd summoned ourselves.
Mom stood and placed a trembling hand on my shoulder. "I just don't want to see you get hurt," she whispered. "By him, by the world, by any of this."
"I'm already hurt," I said, my voice breaking. "That's the point."
Her hand fell away slowly.
No one said another word for a long time. Just the ticking of the kitchen clock, loud and cruel in the quiet. The food on our plates grew cold.
Finally, Mr. Morgan cleared his throat. "I think we all need some space."
Tyler nodded stiffly. "Yeah. I'll go." He pushed away from the table and left without another glance. I wanted to follow, but I couldn't move. My mother sat across from me, her face buried in her hands.
For a long time, I just watched the sunlight shift across the table. Everything looked normal, but nothing felt that way anymore.
I don't know how long I sat there before I finally went upstairs. My room felt too quiet. I wanted to scream, or cry, or rewind time to when things weren't so heavy.
But when the door creaked open, I didn't have to turn to know it was him. Tyler leaned against the doorframe, his face pale, his eyes rimmed with red.
"Hey," he said softly.
I didn't answer.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I shouldn't have let it get that far downstairs. I should've..."
"Don't," I interrupted, voice flat. "You told the truth. It was going to come out eventually."
He sat beside me on the edge of the bed, our shoulders barely touching. "You okay?"
I laughed hollowly. "Do I look okay?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I can't stand seeing them look at you like that. Like you're some mistake."
"Maybe I am."
"Don't." His tone sharpened. "Don't ever say that."
I met his gaze then, raw, tired, terrified. "You saw their faces, Tyler. My mom couldn't even look at me. Your dad looked like he wanted to erase us from the table. And Katie…" I exhaled shakily. "God, maybe this was a mistake."
"It's not."
"Then why does it hurt this much?"
He didn't answer. He just reached out, his hand finding mine. His fingers were cold but steady.
"Because it's real," he whispered. "And real things hurt."
Something inside me broke again, but not in the same way. This time, it was quieter, the kind of breaking that made space instead of scars.
I leaned into him, and he pulled me close. For a long time, we just sat there, two boys who'd tried too hard to be strong, holding onto each other like the world outside the door didn't exist.
His heartbeat pressed against my temple. Slow,Real and Alive.
"I don't know how to fix this," I admitted.
"Maybe we don't have to fix it," he said softly. "Maybe we just have to survive it."
I closed my eyes. "I don't want to lose you."
"You won't," he whispered. "Not again."
Outside, the wind picked up, rustling the trees. It sounded like the world was exhaling with us, tired, bruised, but still moving.
For the first time since everything fell apart, I let myself breathe too.
Later, I heard Mom's voice downstairs low, muffled, maybe crying. Mr. Morgan murmured something in response. I didn't need to know what they said. Some wounds took time. Some loves took courage.
And as Tyler's hand tightened around mine, I realized I was done apologizing for either.
Because the truth, no matter how heavy, was still ours to carry.