Leave Me Alone, Big Brothers! [BL]-Chapter 97: Useless Son

An hour later, inside Nathan’s room, only the voice of Dr. Edward, the family doctor, could be heard questioning Nathan and giving some advice. Meanwhile, Nathan curled up, occasionally nodding his head or giving short answers.

"How is he?" Alexander asked.

Dr. Edward sighed softly, clicking his stethoscope into his bag with a practiced snap. "It’s acute gastritis. In simple terms, the protective lining of his stomach is severely inflamed. The barrier that usually shields his tissue from his own digestive acid has worn thin."

Alexander frowned, his eyes darting to the pale figure on the bed. "Is it something he ate? Some kind of food poisoning?"

"It’s rarely that simple," the doctor replied, his voice steady but firm. "Based on what he has told me, he’s been skipping meals many times. When you go long periods without food, there’s nothing in the stomach to buffer the acid. Combine that with high stress levels, which actually reduce the blood flow the stomach needs to repair its lining, and you have a recipe for erosion."

Edward paused, looking Alexander in the eye. "The coffee he drinks on an empty stomach is the final blow. It’s a chemical irritant that triggers even more acid production. Right now, his stomach isn’t just processing food, it’s struggling to protect itself from its own environment."

Edward handed the paper to Alexander. "You can take this. The most important thing, no more ’holding his hunger.’"

Alexander looked over the list. "So, he needs to eat even if he isn’t hungry?"

"Exactly," Edward nodded. "Think of food like a sponge. Even if it’s just two or three crackers, that bit of food acts as a buffer. It soaks up the baseline acid his stomach produces naturally. If his stomach stays totally empty, that acid has nothing to do but sit there and irritate the spots that are already raw."

He turned to Nathan with a serious but kind look. "That means no skipping breakfast because you’re busy, and definitely no coffee for a while. Coffee, spicy food, and anything acidic, like orange juice or soda, are no-gos. Your stomach lining is essentially a fresh wound right now, putting coffee or chili in there is like pouring lemon juice on a paper cut. It’s going to sting and keep it from healing."

"Just for a few days?" Alexander asked, because for sure he needed to order everyone in the kitchen to be careful with Nathan’s food.

"Until the burning stops," Edward confirmed. "Small snacks every three hours, plenty of water, and keep it bland. Let’s keep that ’buffer’ in your stomach so the lining can finally catch a break."

Alexander noted everything in his head. He asked Jack to get the prescribed medicine immediately.

Once the doctor left, Alexander returned to Nathan’s room, seeing his brother curled up in pain. His face was so pale, and he was holding back the pain.

Nael sat on the edge of the bed, looking confused about what to do. Meanwhile, Roger tried to offer him a drink, but Nathan felt that all food and drink only made his stomach hurt more.

Alexander took some clean clothes and approached the bed. "I will help you change your clothes."

He would not let Nathan sleep in the dirty clothes he had worn all day.

Nathan shook his head weakly. He could do it himself; he just needed time for his stomach to feel a little better. But then he felt Alexander’s warm hand rubbing his back.

"No... I can do it myself..." Nathan pushed his brother’s hand away.

"I’ll just help you change. Then you take the medicine and sleep," said Alexander, pulling at Nathan’s clothes.

Nathan groaned, because every time he moved, his stomach hurt more. But Alexander did it quickly and let his brother curl up again.

The most important thing was that Nathan was now comfortable in his pajamas.

Nael took a deep breath, feeling the pain just by seeing the suffering on Nathan’s face. He wanted to help so badly that he just rubbed his twin’s feet repeatedly, hoping that Nathan would feel better.

Roger chose to say nothing when Nathan whimpered for him to be quiet.

***

Leinster’s house.

The Leinster living room felt like an interrogation chamber. Adam Leinster stood by the sofa, his silhouette tall and imposing, while Zane stood a few feet away, eyes fixed on the patterned rug.

"What was in your mind?" Adam’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "Illegal racing? How old are you, Zane? Seventeen or seven?"

Zane didn’t look up. He kept his jaw tight, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"How long?" Adam stepped closer, making Zane alert.

"How long have you been making a fool of me? Do you want to make me a laughingstock? You even influenced Salazar’s son to join you!"

Zane finally let out a sharp, jagged breath. "Why do you care now?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and sudden defiance. "Because it was a Salazar? Because it’s Alexander Salazar’s brother involved?"

Zane was surprised by his own courage. He never talked to his father, and when they did have time to talk alone, it was always because of a problem.

"Don’t change the topic!" Adam barked, making Zane flinch.

"Answer me. How long have you been doing this kind of shit?"

Zane stared at his father, Adam’s face so angry that veins stood out across it. He never expected his father to show that face.

"Why does it matter?" Zane’s eyes were glassy and bloodshot. "I’ve had the highest grades in my class for three terms straight. You never noticed. You didn’t even come to get my report card. I tried to be the perfect kid, the ’good son’ who doesn’t cause trouble, and you never even looked at me."

Adam’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it turned to stone.

"I was invisible when I was good, Dad!" Zane’s voice broke, rising slowly in volume. "The only way to get you to actually see me—to actually stand in the same room as me—is to break the law. Is that it? Is my only value to you as a trophy for your reputation?"

"Keep your mouth shut," Adam hissed.

"No! You don’t get to be a father for ten minutes a year and spend the rest of it acting like my warden!"

"What are you talking about? You influenced Salazar’s son to become wild! What if you get caught? You’ll only embarrass me!"

Zane clenched his fists. "See? You only care about your reputation! Do you ever think about me? Yes, I’m a useless kid, yes, I always do naughty things! But don’t you want to know why I do that?"

Zane felt his chest tighten. "No, you will never want to know! Because you have never been a father! I really hate you, and I hate this house! I hate—"

Slap!

Adam felt anger making his head burn. Without realizing it, he threw a hard slap, and that surprised him a little.

The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room. Zane’s head snapped to the side, his cheek burning. His eardrums rang. The force of it sent him stumbling sideways, his knees giving out until he hit the floor.

From the shadows of the hallway, Marie and David gasped, their hands flying to their mouths. They watched, frozen, as the silence returned, heavier and more toxic than before.

Zane groaned silently, one hand pressed against his burning cheek. He tried to push himself up, but then his breath caught. A familiar, terrifying whistling sound started in his throat.

His chest tightened as if an invisible vice were squeezing his lungs shut. His face went from flushed to a sickly, pale gray.

Zane clutched the sofa, his breath shortening. He tried to take the inhaler from his pocket with trembling hands.

Adam stared in shock.

"Zane?" Adam’s anger flickered, replaced by a sudden, sharp pang of alarm.

Zane didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He fumbled frantically in his pocket, his fingers shaking so badly he could barely grasp his inhaler. He let out a desperate, wheezing gasp, his eyes wide with the panic of drowning on dry land.

Adam panicked, moving instinctively, reaching down to grab Zane’s shoulder to help him up. "Where is your inhaler?"

Zane’s hand shot up, slapping his father’s hand away with what little strength he had left, making Adam flinch.

He managed to get a shaky breath of medicine into his lungs. The whistling slowed, but the pain in his chest remained. He used the sofa to pull himself to his feet, refusing to look at the man standing over him.

"I’m sorry," Zane rasped, his voice a ghost of itself. "I know I’ve always been a useless son to you."

He turned his head, looking at his father with eyes that were utterly cold, hiding his sadness. "If I could... I’d change places with Mom in a heartbeat. I’d rather be dead than keep living like this with you."

Adam opened his mouth, his face contorting as if he wanted to reach out, to apologize, or to argue, but no words came.

Zane didn’t wait. He turned and walked past his father, his steps uneven but determined, leaving Adam standing alone in the center of the room.