They met at Raphael's kitchen.
Their uncle's natural way of being made them feel courageous enough to invite their truth to sit down at the table with them.
It was always you,
Nathan said first,
Surprising himself.
Mom's favorite.
The one who knew what she was feeling.
I learned to be the life of the party because you were already the poem.
I felt left out of this silent connection that you and mom seemed to share.
Nico winced.
He could feel the depth of Nathan's pain.
I envied you every day,
Brother.
You could walk into any room and create the fun.
I wanted your lightness.
I guess you wanted my depth.
We kept trying to borrow from each other instead of share.
They looked at each other then.
Actually looked.
The scar on Nathan's knuckle from swinging first.
The permanent crease between Nico's brows from thinking too hard,
Too long.
Raphael set two steaming mugs of tea on the table.
Then leaned against the counter,
Arms folded,
His eyes steady but kind.
Do you hear yourself,
He asked,
As if one of you had to lose for the other to shine?
Nathan swallowed hard.
His jaw clenched as if to hold back any vulnerability like it might escape.
That's how it always felt.
I could never make it better for mom.
But Nico seemed to just sit beside her and something would be lighter in her.
It nearly broke me to feel I couldn't lift out all that sadness.
Raph shook his head gently.
No,
Mijo.
She could only love with the love she had.
She gave what she could to each of you and you both bent yourself around it.
Nico,
You held her with your sorrow.
Nathan,
You carried her with your laughter.
Neither of you are wrong.
Neither of you are right.
Just two sons trying to be enough.
Something unclenched in Nico's chest.
He turned to his brother,
Voice softer.
I didn't know you felt invisible.
I was so busy wishing I could make mom feel better.
I honestly had no idea you felt left out.
Nathan's eyes brimmed.
He tapped his knuckle against the table.
The scar catching the light.
And I didn't see how heavy it was for you.
I just thought you wanted to be serious all the time.
Maybe I was jealous of the attention she gave you.
Raphael moved closer,
Resting a weathered hand on each of their shoulders.
Listen,
You don't need to borrow or compete anymore.
Your mother's story is not yours to finish.
You can put it down now.
Let each other be.
The room fell quiet,
Except for the hum of the fridge.
Nathan reached across the table,
His hand open,
Hesitant.
Nico took it.
Not a dramatic reconciliation,
Just a rough,
Honest clasp.
For the first time in years,
Neither pulled away.
