Page 42 of In Every Lifetime
Sarah
Something was off with Fai.
Gabriel and I had spent the morning on the back porch talking about Fai. I was careful to stay on the surface, the lighthearted things, the stories that were mine to tell. The deeper ones belonged to him.
But Gabriel now knew that Fai had no idea how to swim, despite my best efforts to teach him over the years. He knew about the raccoon, and the genuinely epic standoff that had taken place in our kitchen two days after we moved in. He knew Fai's favorite film, book, and color, and exactly how he took his coffee. Small things, maybe, but they added up to something true.
We all had a habit of putting on facades for the public, acting how we perceived was the best version of ourselves—the versions that were the most palatable, the most acceptable. We would hide the interests, hobbies, and aspects of ourselves that made us individuals. It was a need to conform and to be accepted. The problem, it was our individuality that made us incredible. Made us one of a kind.
Fai was one of a kind, but he seemed to believe that was a bad thing.
He had spent his whole life fitting himself into the mold that fit whoever was in front of him, and I had only understood why once he explained it.
“When people are looking to adopt you, they’re not looking atyou. They’re looking at the final piece of their puzzle. It was up to me to make sure I was from the same box, that I would fit into their life as is, that I would be worthwhile to adopt.”
I knew that wasn’t everyone’s experience, but Fai’s had been unique. He had been in the adoption process eight times while in the system and was never chosen. That breaks something in a kid, and he had to grow a thicker skin than most to survive. He still had the habit of molding himself into the person he thought someone wanted him to be.
I wanted Gabriel—no, I wanted the world—to know Fai for who he truly was: an incredibly kind but broken man who was putting the pieces of himself back together with precision and love that most people didn’t possess.
Gabriel was a genuinely attentive listener. He asked questions, followed stories, and wanted to understand rather than just be told. Watching him begin to piece together a picture of his brother was something I hadn't expected to find moving.
When we had finally wrapped up our conversation and gone inside, Fai was awake, sitting on the couch with a concerned expression. He wiped it quickly at the sight of Gabriel and me, but I could see it lingering in the recesses of his mind.
Something had changed this morning. Something I didn’t know.
My mind had jumped to the worst-case scenario, as it often did. I was initially nervous that Fai had found alcohol somewhere in the house. It was stupid of me and Fai not to ask Gabriel to lock it up while we were here. The look on Fai's facehad been equal parts concern and guilt, and the fear of a relapse settled over me before I could stop it.
But his eyes were still clear, his skin still held that healthy glow, and I couldn’t get a whiff of anything awry. He hadn’t relapsed, and while I was grateful, I still didn’t have the answer I wanted.
My only other thought was that Will had called, and Fai had found out about the extent of my snooping. I didn’t believe Fai would be angry that I asked Will to look into Gabriel, but I was nervous he would be angry that I hadn’t told him.
I had been trying all day to get a minute alone with Fai to ask him what had happened and what was wrong, but Gabriel kept us busy. We had played a few board games, watched one of his favorite movies, even gone on a walk around the property. There wasn’t a moment where I could corner Fai without it being suspicious.
But the day was finally wrapping up. Gabriel had ordered pizza for dinner, and we were cleaning up the kitchen after a late evening. My opportunity to find out what was wrong was finally approaching, and I refused to let it pass by.
“Do you want to go into town tomorrow?” Fai asked both Gabriel and me.
Gabriel shook his head. “I’d rather not, but I know the best place to get coffee if you two want to go.”
Fai accepted the offer readily, writing down the name of the coffee shop.
I quietly slipped away while they talked, getting ready for bed before Fai so he wouldn’t drift off and sidestep the conversation we needed to have. It was a quick routine tonight as my anxiety ran rampant through my body.
I couldn’t sit still, and I even opened the small bathroom window to get some airflow while I washed my face. I thought over what I would say, how I would start the conversation.The Fai I had originally married was the easiest person to have a conversation with. He was level-headed, extremely slow to anger, and had a knack for showing he was truly listening without speaking a word.
The Fai I had been married to in the last couple of years—the Fai who was often drunk, hungover, or going through withdrawals—well, he wasn’t as easy to talk to.
I was nervous about which Fai I would get tonight. When we argued last night, he was somewhere in the middle: still slow to anger, still willing to listen, but there was more fire in him.
I tiptoed back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, crossing my legs underneath me.
I didn’t have to wait long, as Fai opened the door and wandered in, shutting it softly behind him. He looked at me, jumping slightly, having not realized I was here too.
“Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to calm his racing heart.
“I thought you were in the bathroom. You okay?” he asked, wandering back to that chair in the corner. He sat down as he began pulling off his socks. “You were quiet for most of the day.”
“What’s wrong?” I blurted. It wasn’t what I had planned, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to know.
