by J. L. Perry
Taking a step back, I wipe the tears from my face as my eyes quickly dart to Ethan. When he reaches out his hand and rubs my back, I flinch. The hurt and sorrow I see in his eyes tugs at my heart. He’s always been such an amazing brother, but until he makes this right, if that’s even possible, I can’t forgive him.
“Do you think you’ll be able to drive my car home, Han?” Michelle asks. “I’ll travel with your brother.” Her eyes narrow at him as she speaks.
“I’m right to drive,” I say. I’m not sure if I am, but if it means not getting in the car with my brother, I’m gonna give it my best shot. Leaning forward, I kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”
When I pull into the driveway, I rest my head on the steering wheel and sigh. I don’t even know why I came here. Yes, I do—I had nowhere else to go. I’ve just lost the only real family I have. Sliding my hand into my pocket, I pull out my phone and open Hanna’s message. A lump rises to my throat as I read it for the hundredth time. I can’t bring myself to reply to her. As much as I hate to admit it, what just happened, has changed everything. It’s easy for her to say she loves me now, but in the coming days or weeks I’m sure that will change. Ethan will make sure of it.
I can’t even put into words how incredibly hurt I am by the way he acted towards me at my apartment, even though I deserved it. I actually deserved a lot more than what he dished out. I should’ve manned up weeks ago. Better still, I should’ve stayed the hell away from his little sister in the first place. I’m devastated that this is what it’s come to. I don’t want to lose her. Our last few weeks together have been some of the best of my life.
I toss my phone into the centre console before exiting the car. My eyes take in the yard as I walk down the path towards the front porch. This place was so beautiful when I purchased it. The gardens and lawns were all manicured and well cared for. I should’ve known they wouldn’t look after it.
My stomach churns as I walk up the front stairs. Coming home shouldn’t feel like this, but it always does. This place has never really been my home. Not really.
I knock on the door and wait for an answer. I have keys, but unlike Ethan’s place, I don’t feel comfortable just walking inside.
“Harrison,” my mum says with surprise when she appears in the doorway. “I wasn’t expecting a visit. I was getting ready to head out.”
Of course, she was.
She was hardly ever home when I was a kid. I understood why she didn’t want to be around my father, but I hated that she would just leave me on my own with him. When I was little I’d beg her to take me along, but she never did. It wasn’t until I was older, and realised where she was actually going, that I understood why. My father was never physically violent with me, but he’s a mean drunk and was known to be verbally abusive. I’m not ashamed to admit I was scared of him back then. I think any kid in my situation would be. I’d usually lock myself in my room after my mother would leave, and avoid him at all costs. Thankfully, once Ethan came into my life his place became my safe haven.
“I just called over to see how you guys are doing,” I say with a forced smile. I don’t want her to see how much her lack of enthusiasm hurts me, but it does. It always has. Ethan’s parents always made their children a priority. I’m not sure where I fit into my parents list of priorities, but I’ve never been at the top that’s for sure.
I take in my mother’s appearance, and as usual she’s scantily dressed and overly made up. She’s forty-seven and still dresses like she’s in her twenties. I’m pretty sure there’s more material in one of my work ties than there is in the skirt she’s wearing. She always had a natural beauty, and doesn’t need to dress so cheaply to get attention. She’s the only person I know that goes to the grocery store dressed like she’s on her way out for a night on the town; in way too tight dresses and sky high heels.
Is it wrong of me to have wished for a regular looking mum when I was kid? Because I did, I still do. Growing up, I absolutely loathed the attention her appearance would bring. Of course, she welcomed it, thrived on it even. The worst part for me though, were the rumours that circulated about her. We couldn’t even walk down the street without people pointing at us, or snickering behind our backs. ‘Oh, did you know she was seen out with one of the teachers from the school.’ Or, ‘Oh, I heard she was sleeping with the postman now . . . that woman is shameful.’ There were so many taunts, and none of them pleasant. Even the kids at school gave me a hard time about it. It’s not easy being the son of the town slut, or the town drunk for that matter. My parents are a joke. It was a constant battle to ignore them growing up. On occasions, I’d retaliate and get into fights, but mostly I tried to ignore it. I’ve never liked violence, since I lived and breathed it at home.
Funnily enough, despite what everyone said, I loved them; I still do. Don’t ask me why, but I do.
“You’re a good kid,” my mum says, placing her shaky hand tenderly on the side of my face. My father has turned her into a nervous wreck over the years. I see her eyes move down to my cut lip, but she doesn’t ask me what happened, or if I’m okay. She’s had enough of her own shit to deal with, thanks to my father. It’s probably no big deal to her. Call me over sensitive, but I’m pretty sure if it was my kid, I’d want to know.
Despite all her infidelities though, she does care about me in her own fucked up kind of way, I’m sure of that. My mum’s just needy and craves affection, any way she can get it. She always has. Maybe that’s why she is the way she is, she certainly doesn’t get any of that from my father.
Moving to the side she looks down at her watch as she allows me to enter. I just got here and I already feel like she’s pushing me out the door. Just once I’d like either of my parents to put me first. Is that too much to ask?
“Is dad home?”
“No,” she replies, shaking her head at the same time. “He’s probably at the pub, or passed out in the gutter somewhere.” It’s sad that she says it so casually and uncaring, but it’s happened so many times it’s no big deal anymore. I can’t even count how many times he’s been picked up by the police unconscious on the side of the road, or for drunk and disorderly behaviour. It’s humiliating. The police won’t even keep him in lockup anymore because they don’t want to deal with his bullshit. It used to really upset me when I was a kid, but like my mother, I’ve become accustomed to it over time. When I was young I’d lie awake at night, consumed with worry. My father would be out drinking, my mum would be with God only knows who, and I was left to fend for myself. The thought of neither of them coming home would terrify me. In hindsight, I probably would’ve been better off if they didn’t.
“Why is the lawn so long?” I ask as I pass her. “What happened to the guy I hired to take care of it.”
She rolls her eyes before answering. “We haven’t seen him for almost a month. The noise from the edging woke your father from his afternoon nap last time he was here. After screaming profanities at him, he threw a full can of beer at his head, before chasing him down the street with the edger as he threatened to dismember him. The poor man never returned . . . I don’t blame him. Your father can be so . . .” Her words drift off, but she doesn’t need to finish that sentence, I know exactly what my father is like. I lived with him. I’m not sure how I would’ve turned out if it wasn’t for the love and care I got from Ethan’s family growing up.
I shake my head as I follow her towards the kitchen. There’s never a dull moment in this house, that’s for sure. I bought this place to try and give them a better life. Of course my father would have to make things hard, he always does. It’s in a great neighbourhood and a far cry from the dump I grew up in.
My mother cried tears of joy the day I handed over the keys . . . my father just complained that it was too far away from a pub. Selfish prick. His addiction has always meant more to him than us.
We never had nice things when I was young because my father drank away most of the money he earnt. So, I made sure their new house was fully furnished
—everything was new. I wanted to give them something to be proud of. My mother does her best to keep the inside nice, but it angers me to see all the holes that have been punched in the walls as I walk down the hall. My father’s lack of respect pisses me the hell off, but on the other hand, I’d rather him punch a wall than her.
“Sit,” she says when I enter the kitchen. I can’t help but notice that she looks down at her watch yet again as she goes about collecting the empty beer cans from the table, and throwing them in the trash can under the sink. My eyes follow her every move.
“I won’t stay long. I know you have somewhere else to be.” I try my best not to sound bitter.
“I can spare a few minutes to catch up with my son.” Wow, a few minutes. I haven’t seen her in weeks, and she can only spare me few minutes. It’s a constant reminder of just how unimportant I am to my parents. It stings. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not. “How have you been?”
“I’m doing okay,” I say with a shrug. I’m far from okay, but I’m not going to tell her that. We’ve never been close enough to discuss those kinds of things. I’ve always kept my feelings close to my chest. Even with Ethan. He knew my life was shitty, but had no idea to what extent. To be honest, once I saw how perfect his family was, I felt ashamed of mine.
I think he knew that too, because he never pried—never asked questions. In the beginning, yes, he’d ask things like, ‘Where’s your lunch?’ I’d just shrug it off by saying my mother had forgotten to go to the store, I’d left it at home, or that I wasn’t hungry today. It was a lie. I was always hungry. That’s when he’d start turning up to school with extra food. Even then he was discreet about it, but I’m not stupid. He’d say things like, ‘My mum’s packed too much food for me again. I swear she’s trying to make me fat. Help a brother out and eat some of this for me.’ I’ll always love him for that. He never made me feel like a charity case, he’d always turn it around and make me feel like I was doing him a favour. In my heart I knew better, but I never let on. He was just there for me . . . always. So, to say I’m completely devastated that I’ve lost him, would be an understatement.
I’m not sure how I’m going to cope without him in my life. When my business first started to take off, I offered him a partnership, but although he was proud of my achievements, he had his own aspirations. He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. Which is kind of ironic to me. I aspire to be nothing like my old man. I guess when you have a father like Ethan’s though, someone to look up too, wanting to be like him is not unusual.
He does alright for himself, but he’s certainly not rolling in money like I am. I’ve tried to give him things in the past, but he’d never take handouts, like I once did from him. I make up for it though, by paying Michelle a huge salary. In my opinion she earns every cent though, she’s a fucking gem. Christ, I hope he doesn’t make her quit her job. I’d be lost without her. This clusterfuck has the potential to create a huge domino effect in my life. Who knew falling in love with the wrong person could be this hard?
“I’d offer you something to drink,” my mum says, pulling me from my inner turmoil, “but we don’t have anything. Unless you’re okay with tap water.” The moment she bows her head, I know somethings wrong.
“What’s going on mum?” I ask, concerned.
“Your father has lost his job . . . again.”
“What?” I sit up straight in my seat. “When?”
“About two weeks ago.”
“Jesus, mum. Why didn’t you tell me?” I have all the rates and utility bills sent to me, so all they really need to do is buy food.
“It’s not your problem, Harrison. You do enough for us already.”
Standing, I reach into my pocket for my wallet. I pull out three one-hundred-dollar notes, and place them on the table. “That’s all I have on me now, but I’ll set up some regular payments tomorrow. I’ll get it put into your bank so he can’t piss it away.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she says, tears glistening in her eyes.
“I want to.”
She steps forward, wrapping her arms around me. “You’re a good, son.”
Leaning down, I place a soft kiss on her hair. “If you ever need anything, mum, call me. I mean it.” I’ve tried so many times to help her over the years, to get her away from my toxic father, but to no avail. She’s far from perfect, but God only knows why she continues to put up with his bullshit. She deserves better.
I pour some scotch into a glass, downing it in one gulp. I welcome the burn of the amber liquid as it runs down the back of my throat. I don’t hesitate in pouring another. I’m not much of a drinker, usually only sharing the occasional beer with Ethan, but today calls for the hard stuff. I’m yearning to be numb. I don’t want to think or feel, it hurts too much. If it wasn’t for me going around to visit my parents, I’d never see them. They’ve never once made the effort to reach out to me, or see how I’m doing. Yet Ethan always has. I’m gonna miss that. I haven’t just lost a friend today—Ethan’s my family. The only real family I have.
After drinking my second scotch, I place the glass down. I rest my hands on the bar and exhale a large breath. I contemplate calling Ethan again. I’ve tried twice since I’ve been home, but he disconnected the call both times. I don’t know what else I can do to smooth this out. In the almost twenty years of our friendship, we’ve never fought. Never. That’s one of the reasons why this has hit me so hard.
My thoughts drift to Hanna. I miss her already. I’m craving her comfort, but I’m scared to reach out to her. I’ve faced enough rejection in my life. I couldn’t stand it if she rejected me as well.
I’ve always enjoyed going into the office, even more so the past few weeks . . . because of her. But tomorrow I’m dreading it. What if she doesn’t show up? That’s really going to fuck me over. I’m not banking on seeing Michelle anytime soon, either.
Picking up the empty glass, I raise it above my head, before instantly lowering it again. Throwing the glass against the wall isn’t going to solve anything. It’s not going to make this clusterfuck disappear, and it’s certainly not going to make things right between me and Ethan. Or guarantee my future with Han. There’s nothing I can do to undo this mess. Even walking away from Hanna won’t help. I’m sure as hell not prepared to do that either. I can’t . . . I’m in way too deep to even consider it.
Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I stare down at the screen. There’s no missed calls or messages from her. That fills me with dread. The end for us is near, I can feel it.
I head towards my room to change. Maybe a good workout will help relieve some of the tension I’m feeling. It can’t hurt. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go.
It’s funny how one minute you can be on top of the world, surrounded by people who care—the ones that enrich your life and make it so much better—and in a blink of an eye it’s all gone and you feel lower than you have in your entire life . . . and so fucking alone.
I knock on the front door, for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s either not home, or he’s ignoring me. Please don’t let it be the latter. I’ve been blowing up his phone since I arrived here, but it keeps going straight to voicemail, which isn’t a good sign. I don’t know what to do. I have nowhere else to go.
Giving up, I slide down the wall, burying my face in my hands. This is so fucked up. Only a few short hours ago, I had everything I ever wanted. Now I have no idea where we stand. Not to mention my relationship with my brother is in tatters.
“Hanna.” My head snaps up with I hear Harrison’s voice. “What are you doing here?”
I sit there gobsmacked briefly. By the looks of him, I presume he’s been at the gym. He’s wearing a tight singlet, and a pair of workout shorts. He’s all ripped, sweaty, and delicious. I shouldn’t be staring, but I can’t help myself. When he comes to a stop in front of me, he extends his hand, helping me to my feet. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m not okay,” I say, buryin
g my face into his chest.
Cupping my face in his big strong hands, he tilts my head back until my gaze is meeting his. “Don’t cry,” he says, wiping the stray tears from my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Please. I can’t bear it.” The pleading tone of his voice tears at my heart, but it also tells me he still cares, which gives me hope.
Letting me go, he wraps me tightly in his arms. “Are we okay, Harry?” I whisper into his chest.
“I hope so.”
When he finally lets me go, he takes a step back. That’s when he notices my suitcase sitting by my feet. “Are you going somewhere?” I can tell by the shocked look on his face that he thinks I’m leaving.
“I couldn’t stay at Ethan’s. I’m so angry with him.”
“So, you’re not going back to uni?” There’s hurt and confusion swimming in his beautiful brown eyes as they lock with mine.
“Not if you don’t want me to. Classes don’t start back for another six weeks.” I see a small smile tug at his lips. Reaching up, I gently run my fingers over his cut lip. I hate that my brother hurt him. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“You can stay as long as you like,” he says, pulling me back into his arms, practically crushing me, “as long as you like, Han.”
I can’t tell you how happy his words make me. Can I stay here with him forever?
His fingers tenderly run a path down my arm, sending tingles coursing through my body. When he reaches my hand, he laces his fingers through mine, before bending to pick up the small suitcase by my feet. I only packed enough clothes for a few days. Ethan probably hasn’t realised I’ve even left. He and Michelle were having a vicious argument when I snuck out. My car is still parked at Harrison’s office, so I walked a few blocks before flagging a taxi. I had contemplated going to my parents’ house. They’re still overseas on their dream holiday, but I knew that would be the first place Ethan would look for me. Well either there or Harrison’s. I can’t see him turning up here again in a hurry. Well, he better not.