“I always listened to you,” Ronnie replied bitterly.
“Have you been mad at me about that this whole time?” It would explain his chilly reception and why he’d never written once after he’d been shipped off. Jim hadn’t written, either, but that stemmed from guilt. Of the two of them, Ronnie had always been the better man.
Ronnie’s gaze slid sideways. “No,” he muttered. “But I was mad enough then to sign up.”
The confession cut off any further argument Jim might’ve made. His world felt like it had dropped out from under him, even more than it had when he’d first found out Ronnie was gone. “I thought you were drafted.”
“That’s what I made everybody think. I didn’t want Mom to be upset that I picked enlisting over everything else.”
“So you went off to Vietnam because of me.” He was going to be sick. “You got hurt because I was an asshole.”
“No, I got hurt because we hit a bomb in the road and it blew up the truck,” Ronnie countered. “Not everything is about you, Jim.”