The Struggle to Keep It Together
Days turned into weeks, and Fred’s condition showed no signs of improving. George had grown more worried, more cautious in his interactions with his twin. He made excuses to keep Fred from doing anything physically demanding, even though Fred continually insisted he was fine. But there was no hiding the truth. Fred was getting weaker.
One evening, as they were closing up the shop for the night, Fred stumbled slightly while walking toward the door. His hand gripped the doorframe, and George immediately stepped forward to steady him.
“Oi, what was that?” George asked, his voice laced with concern.
Fred waved him off, trying to smile. “Nothing, just tripped on my own feet, that’s all.”
But George didn’t believe it for a second. He saw the way Fred’s face had gone pale, the way his chest rose and fell erratically as if the very act of walking was a monumental task.
“Fred, you’ve been off for weeks now,” George said, his voice low and serious. “What’s going on?”
Fred’s eyes widened for a split second before he looked away, his lips pressing together in a thin line. He didn’t want to say it. He couldn’t bring himself to.
“I’m fine,” Fred said, his voice strained. “It’s nothing. Really.”
George stood there, staring at him, the truth glaring back at him in Fred’s eyes. The words were left unspoken, but the meaning was clear. Fred was hiding something.
“Fred,” George whispered, stepping closer. “Please, just tell me.”
Fred opened his mouth to speak, but his breath caught in his chest. His face twisted in pain, and for a moment, George thought he was going to collapse. He grabbed Fred by the arm, holding him steady, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Fred, please, don’t do this. You’re scaring me,” George said, his voice tight with emotion. “You don’t have to hide it from me. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. You don’t have to be alone in this.”
Fred shook his head, his eyes welling with unshed tears. “I can’t, George. I don’t want to be a burden.”
George felt his stomach twist. He wanted to scream at Fred, to tell him that he wasn’t a burden—that he was his twin, his best friend, and they were in this together. But instead, he pulled Fred into a tight hug, holding him as if he could somehow will away the fear that was growing stronger by the day.
“You’re not a burden,” George whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my brother. And I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”