The weight of secrets

Chapter 2

Jobe stood motionless, the weight of his brother's words hanging in the air long after Jude had left the room. The door clicked shut behind him, a sound that felt final, like a door slamming shut on a chapter of their lives that could never be reopened.

Jobe sank down onto his bed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. His mind raced, trying to make sense of everything, but nothing seemed to fit together. How could he have let this happen? How could he have let it get so far?

He knew he had to fix it. He had to. But every time he thought about how to repair the damage, it felt like there were more pieces to pick up, more cracks to mend. How could he ask for forgiveness when he knew he didn't deserve it?

The minutes dragged on, and still, there was no sign of Jude. No text, no call, no indication of whether he was even willing to listen to him anymore. Jobe's phone buzzed on the nightstand, and for a split second, his heart leapt. But when he saw the name on the screen, his stomach twisted. It was Lily.

He stared at the message, unsure of how to even begin responding to her. She had been the other half of this mess, the one who had broken the silence by telling Jude what had happened. And yet, he knew that what she'd done didn't make the situation any better. He could feel her guilt, too, in every word of the message.

"Jobe, I never meant for it to go this far. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt anyone."

Her words cut into him. He had known it was wrong, but reading her apology only reminded him of just how badly they had both messed up. She didn't want to hurt anyone—but that didn't change the fact that they had. She was Jude's girlfriend, someone he had trusted, someone he had been close to. And now, everything was broken.

Jobe sat with the phone in his hands, trying to figure out how to respond, but he felt paralyzed. He didn't want to reach out to her. He didn't want to make it worse. The damage was done, and nothing they said could take away the betrayal.

Minutes passed, and he eventually set the phone aside, realizing he wasn't ready to face the fallout yet. Instead, he tried to focus on the one person who could change everything: Jude.

The hours that followed felt like a blur. Jobe stayed holed up in his room, unsure of what to do next. He was caught between the desire to make things right and the fear that it was already too late. Every time he thought about Jude's reaction, his heart clenched tighter.

But eventually, the door opened again.

Jude stood there, his posture tense, his face still marked by the earlier pain. This time, though, there was something else in his eyes—an emptiness. A resignation. Jobe stood, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Jude—" Jobe started, but Jude raised a hand to stop him.

"Don't," Jude said quietly, his voice strained. He stepped further into the room, his gaze fixed on Jobe. "I've been thinking a lot. About everything. About what happened, about what it means." He paused, swallowing hard. "I don't even know where to begin."

Jobe felt the pit in his stomach grow deeper, the silence stretching between them like an abyss. He wanted to reach out, to explain, but he knew the words would be meaningless. His brother had already been hurt by him, and nothing could change that now.

"I don't know what's worse, Jobe," Jude continued. "The fact that it happened, or that I should have seen it coming. You've always been so close to me... But I never thought you'd do something like this. I trusted you, and now... I don't know who you are anymore."

The words hit Jobe like a punch to the gut. He didn't know who you are anymore. It was the one thing he hadn't wanted to hear, the one thing that shattered everything he thought they still had. He had failed as a brother. And maybe, in some way, that was even worse than failing as a friend.

"I'm sorry," Jobe said, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the tears threatening to fall, but he refused to let them show. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't deserve it. But I never meant to hurt you, Jude. I was drunk, and I was stupid, and I'm so sorry."

Jude shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable. "I know you're sorry. But that doesn't make this okay. It doesn't make it go away." He glanced down, taking a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "I need time, Jobe. Time to figure out if I can even look at you the same way. Time to think if I can ever trust you again."

The words were like a slap, each one carving deeper into Jobe's chest. He had no excuse, no defense. All he could do was stand there, waiting for the storm to pass.

"I get it," Jobe replied quietly. "I'll give you the time you need. I'll do whatever it takes to make it right... even if that means you don't want me around anymore."

Jude's eyes softened for just a moment, a flicker of the brother he had once known. "I don't know if it's that simple, Jobe. I don't know if I can just pretend like everything's okay." He looked away, clearly wrestling with his emotions. "I don't even know if I can keep seeing her, knowing what happened. It's all too much."

Jobe's heart ached for his brother, who was stuck between the two people he cared about most in the world, torn apart by Jobe's mistake. "You deserve better," Jobe said, his voice breaking. "You deserve someone who will never hurt you like this."

For a moment, the room fell into a heavy silence. Then, without another word, Jude turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Jobe sank back onto his bed, feeling like a shell of the person he had been the day before. The weight of the betrayal was suffocating, and he knew the road ahead would be long. Would he ever earn his brother's trust back? Would their relationship survive this?

The answer seemed uncertain, but one thing was clear: Jobe had no choice but to face the consequences of his actions. And no matter how much it hurt, he had to live with the guilt.