Shattered but Strong

Chapter 7

The kitchen hummed with the usual sounds—clinking silverware, murmured conversations—but something heavier lingered in the air, like a storm waiting to break. Brian’s words had landed like stones in still water, creating ripples of discomfort. Jesse, eyes fixed on his coffee mug, traced the rim absently, lost in thought. Letty picked at her meal, glancing at Brian, trying to piece together the weight of what he had just shared.

After what felt like an eternity, Vince spoke, his voice quiet but threaded with concern. "Brian… you got any health issues? Like, physical stuff?"

Brian paused, his fork suspended mid-air, clearly taken off guard by the question. He set it down slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as if weighing whether or not to continue. “Guess I didn’t bring it up,” he muttered, shrugging a little, his discomfort palpable. “I’ve got POTS and CHF. Managed, though.”

The silence deepened as everyone processed this new information. Confusion flickered across Jesse’s face, while Mia’s expression softened, her concern growing. Dom leaned forward, brow furrowed, trying to understand. "POTS? CHF? What’re those?"

Brian sighed, his shoulders slumping as he began to explain, his tone heavy with the weight of years spent dealing with it alone. “POTS stands for postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Basically, when I stand up, my heart races. Dizziness, lightheadedness... even fainting sometimes. And CHF... that’s chronic heart failure.”

The room seemed to constrict around them, the gravity of Brian’s words settling heavily on everyone. Jesse blinked, visibly unsettled, while Mia reached for his hand, her worry deepening. Dom stared at Brian, his mind scrambling to grasp the implications.

Mia’s voice broke through, softer now, full of quiet concern. “Brian… chronic heart failure? That sounds serious. Why didn’t you tell us about this?”

Brian exhaled, as if the effort of explaining was a familiar routine. “I didn’t think it was something I needed to bring up. I’ve been living with it for a while. I take my meds, watch my diet, see my specialists. It’s under control.”

Jesse shifted, trying to adjust his perception of Brian. “So, like, what’s that mean day-to-day? You gotta take it easy all the time?”

Brian leaned back, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. “With POTS, if I stand up too fast, my heart goes wild. Just moving around can leave me wiped. And the CHF... my heart doesn’t pump as well as it should. I’m not dying or anything, but it’s something I’ve gotta stay on top of.”

Letty's gaze didn't leave Brian. “So, how do you keep yourself stable? What’s the routine?”

Brian gave a nonchalant shrug. “Medications, regular checkups. I try not to push myself too hard, which is why I usually hang back when things get intense.”

Dom's expression hardened, protectiveness creeping in. “Why didn’t you tell us? We’re your family. You shouldn’t have to carry this alone.”

Brian met Dom’s gaze, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but there was sadness in his eyes. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you. I just… I didn’t want to be the guy with all the issues. I’ve learned to live with it. I didn’t want to be known for what I can’t do.”

Vince frowned, his arms crossed tightly as he mulled over Brian’s words. “But it is a big deal, man. We’re your family. You don’t have to keep this to yourself.”

A small, bittersweet laugh escaped Brian. “I’m not alone, Vince. I’ve got my doctors, my routine. And now I’ve got you guys.” His gaze dropped, his voice softer now, “I just didn’t want to be defined by it.”

Jesse, still processing it all, shifted uncomfortably. “So… what happens if you have a bad day? If it gets worse?”

Brian exhaled, giving a slight nod, like this was all too familiar. “If it flares up, I sit down. Take it easy. It doesn’t happen every day, but I know how to handle it when it hits. If it gets real bad, I’ll let you guys know.”

Mia’s voice was a thread of concern. “What about stress? Doesn’t that make things worse?”

Brian nodded, brushing a hand through his hair. “Yeah, stress can make it worse. It can trigger my POTS, make my heart act up. That’s why I try to stay calm, keep things low-key.”

Dom's expression tightened, his frustration clear. “So you’re dealing with all this, and you didn’t think it was important enough to share?”

Brian held Dom’s gaze, his tone steady but firm. “Dom, I’m not hiding it. I’ve just… been living with it. It’s part of me now. I didn’t want it to be the first thing people see when they look at me.”

Letty shook her head, her concern still etched into her features. “We’re your family, Brian. We don’t want you to hide this from us.”

The weight of their concern hung in the air, comforting yet overwhelming. Brian sighed, his chest tight with the knowledge that they cared. “Look, I get it. And I appreciate it. If things ever get out of hand, I’ll let you know.”

Dom reached out, squeezing Brian’s shoulder, his voice thick with brotherly affection. “You’re family, Brian. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Brian looked around at each of them, the weight of their love and concern lifting the heavy fog that had settled over him. “Thanks, Dom. All of you.”

A quiet settled over the group, the kind that speaks volumes without needing words. They had learned more about Brian in an hour than they had in years, and it reminded them that even the strongest among them carried burdens they often kept hidden.

Vince leaned forward, breaking the silence with a smirk that didn’t quite hide his seriousness. “You’re one tough SOB, you know that, right?”

Brian chuckled, shaking his head. “Guess I had to be.”

Jesse’s crooked smile softened the moment. “Well, you don’t have to be the tough guy alone anymore.”

As Brian looked around the table at his family, something inside him lightened. With the weight of his secret lifted, he knew that no matter what came next, he had a team beside him—ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, together.