Yours to Keep by Claudia Burgoa
Aristotle concluded that happiness is one of the central purposes of human life. It is a goal in itself. According to him, a genuinely happy life requires physical, emotional, and mental well-being. There has to be a balance between the three of them. If Aristotle is correct, I’m fucking doomed.
Emotions and I are sworn enemies.
I avoid them the same way I avoid collard greens, okra, and broccoli.
No one has ever noticed or cared to see that I avoid them. Well, at least no one did until I moved to Baker's Creek to live with my brothers.
Or maybe I’m wrong. Mom once said I was a lot like my father. Perhaps that’s what she meant. I never understood the implication of being like him.
William Tower Aldridge was a philanderer, an asshole, and a soulless man. Did she mean I’m soulless, an asshole, or both? I like sex—a lot. But unlike my father, I don’t have time to collect lovers the way he did.
I should’ve asked her for some context. Though, we don’t have the kind of relationship where we discuss our feelings. Maybe that’s the problem. Now I have to deal with my emotions, my brothers, and a future that doesn’t look promising. I’m talking about their future because there are days I want to strangle them.
Why do we live together?
We have my father to thank. Before he died, he decided to fuck up our lives. He left us all his money, properties, and businesses. In case we didn’t give a shit about his money—which we don’t—he threatened to screw two towns and all his employees.
What kind of man does that?
An asshole.
In case it’s not clear, my father was the king of the assholes. Dear old Dad sentenced us for a crime we didn’t commit: being his children. The punishment was to spend eighteen years—it’s months, but each one feels like a year—in his hometown.
Though we all thought we’d end up killing each other. We haven’t yet.
However, one of us almost died, and it was all my fucking fault. How am I supposed to live with that for the rest of my life? I’m tempted to leave Baker’s Creek and just forget about everyone, but with the stipulations dictating the future of thousands of people, I can’t do anything but try to forgive myself.
I just don’t know if I can.
