Free Stone Walls by A.M. Madden

never left.

    I hate weekends. Too much down time to mess with my head. Farley warned that we’d be working on a lot of them, and said to enjoy the time as we have it. I wish we could dive right in right now.
    We could be using the time to study the facts, but Rob is busy proposing to Andrea. He planned this weekend weeks ago. I doubt she’ll be surprised, as she’s been expecting it on every occasion for the past year. Her ability to predict his moves is what has him proposing on an ordinary Saturday in May. Without warning, he’s going to drop to one knee. He doesn’t know if it will be in their apartment, or while food shopping, or maybe even while they go for a walk on the beach. He feels since he won’t know when that exact moment will be, there is no way Andrea could predict it.
    Marriage.
    Why is it necessary? If you happen to find that “one” person you can’t live without, why does everyone require a piece of paper to say they are now officially the “one” person you can’t live without?
    I feel two people can be completely committed, completely loyal to each other without the need to sign a contract. Contracts are manmade and easily broken.
    Look at my parents.
    If they had never met, married, and pledged to love and honor until death, where would they be now? Would Dad have found a wealthy girl to marry, eliminating all the angst being poor caused him? Would Mom have found the man who would cherish her like she was a precious gift?
    Who the fuck knows?
    From their union, the only positive thing that resulted was Jonathan.
    After that night, my brother was forced to grow up quickly. Aunt Beth essentially dropped her life, moved into our home to raise her sister’s son. After a few years, she practically pushed me out of the house. She said I needed to go. She convinced me that she and Jonathan would be just fine. I wonder if I hadn’t listened, where would I be at the moment? I’d probably be a small town cop, hating my existence, just as my father did.
    Regardless, I carry a tremendous amount of guilt for having left Jonathan behind with our aunt. All these years later, I still carry it. It didn’t damage my relationship with Jonathan. He still looks up to me, respects me, and loves me with all his heart. I don’t feel I deserve it because I left him.
    I shouldn’t have left.
    It’s early here in New York, but that doesn’t stop me from picking up my phone to call my little brother.
    “What the hell, dude?” he says groggily over the line.
    “Sleeping?”
    “It’s like five o’clock on a fucking Saturday. Of course, I’m sleeping.”
    “You’re a busy law student. I need to pick my opportunities. How’s UCLA?” I hear shuffling over the phone, some moaning, and a female whining. “I’m guessing it’s awesome.” I openly laugh at my brother’s active sex life. “Who’s the chick?”
    “We were studying.”
    “Is that what they call it these days? I called it hooking up.”
    “Screw you, you’re one to talk. How’s Nat?”
    “Over.”
    Now Jonathan openly laughs at me. I hear my brother shut a door. “Damn, that’s a shame. She was hot, a real keeper.”
    “How would you know from a few pictures?”
    “I could tell. I’m observant like that.” After a short pause, he asks, “How’s work?”
    “It’s fine.” I purposefully omit the latest development with the Politto case. My brother isn’t thrilled that I’m a cop in New York. He’s especially not thrilled that I chose narcotics to specialize in.
    “Have you called Aunt Beth?”
    “You obviously know the answer if you’re asking,” I respond impatiently. He asks me every goddamn time we speak.
    “She misses you, man.”
    I predictably choose not to respond to Jon’s comment.
    Whenever I speak to my aunt, I get a painful stab in my chest from guilt. She dropped her entire life to help her nephews. She left her boyfriend, Theo, behind to move into our home. She raised Jonathan when it should have been my