After the End

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After the End Page 12

by Natasha Preston


  “So, did Greg stop by of his own accord, or did you ask him over?”

  “He just came over. Why?”

  “Oh, he’s always welcome; you know that.”

  “Then, why do you ask?”

  Smiling like she’s the only one privy to an inside joke, she puts the book down beside her and shifts to face me completely.

  Uh-oh, she’s assumed the girl-talk position.

  “Over the last six months, he’s been coming more and more. Then, over the past few weeks, it’s been less. It’s nice to see things returning to normal.”

  “You’ve been keeping count of the times he comes over?”

  “I don’t have a tally, but I notice things.”

  “You are so off the mark here, if you’re going where I think you’re going.”

  “He’s a decent man.”

  “He is. But he’s not my decent man.”

  “I think he could be if you wanted.”

  “I don’t. Greg is a friend, like Jack and Ian, and that’s all I ever want him to be. Okay?”

  She holds up her hands. “Okay. I understand. And is Lincoln a friend?”

  I swallow. Then, I swallow again.

  What exactly is she insinuating here? Is she asking because I didn’t include him in the friend zone with Jack, Ian, and Greg, or is she just asking because she knows I’ve had some contact with him? Or is it obvious where I was tonight?

  “Linc is complicated, but we were friends.”

  “You were. He was the only friend of Robbie’s I didn’t mind being here anytime.” She laughs. “Some of the people Robbie hung around with …”

  Would he be welcome now?

  “Yeah, stereotypical teenage lads. Different girl most nights.”

  “I hope Robbie wasn’t like that.”

  I smile at her because she doesn’t want the truth. While Robbie wasn’t as bad as some of them, he was hardly an advocate for meaningful, monogamous relationships.

  “I did hope he would eventually get with Jessica. She was sweet and always had eyes for him.”

  Jessica was someone who hung around with Robbie and Stanley’s crew. She was their age and besotted with my brother.

  “They never got together because he was an idiot and couldn’t see what was right in front of him,” I tell Mum.

  “True. Don’t you do that, Tilly. Life is too short.”

  Is that something she would stick to if she knew the guy I was just imagining on top of me was Linc?

  I have a feeling she would be giving a very different speech about how we couldn’t work because Robbie’s death would always be there, eating away at the relationship like a disease.

  “I won’t, Mum. No Prince Charming yet though.”

  Her smile spreads wide, the way it did before Robbie died. “You are still young. I didn’t meet your dad until I was twenty-four.”

  “Hmm, so I have three more years of playing the field.”

  Mum smirks, and I haven’t seen the playful glint in her eye in a very long time. I bite my lip as my eyes sting with the best kind of tears.

  “Playing the field? Honey, are you even anywhere near the field?”

  “Okay. Ouch.”

  “When was the last time you went on a date?” she questions, lifting her eyebrow.

  “Well … yeah, okay, it’s been a while.” Seriously, when was it? Years. It’s definitely been years. How sad is that? “Maybe I should get out more …”

  “To the field, love. At least, meet new people. Somewhere out there is the man of your dreams.”

  Somewhere out there or asleep next door?

  Oh God, don’t go there.

  “I’ll get right on that, Mum. Night,” I say, getting up and heading to my room.

  She wants me to go out and meet new people, so nowhere in her mind is she thinking that Linc is a possibility.

  And he’s not. Right? He’s not.

  “Good night, love,” Mum says, sighing like she’s sighing out the last four years of anguish.

  I don’t look back as I go upstairs because I’m confused enough about Linc, and I don’t want this moment with her to end. For now, I want things to be okay. Mum was more normal than she had been in a long time, Linc and I were getting on, and I don’t feel like I’m struggling to breathe.

  If it doesn’t last, that’s fine. It’s likely. But I’ll always have tonight.

  20

  Linc

  I stare at Tilly’s note, reading it for the fifth time. Or sixth. Or tenth. I’ve lost count.

  I can’t believe I fell asleep last night! What an idiot!

  She signed the note with, See you tomorrow, like it’s a given. We don’t have plans, but her note suggests otherwise. It’s such an old Tilly thing to say. On a text, she would sign off with, See you tomorrow, and we always would.

  It’s tomorrow now. I’ve not seen her yet, but then it is only nine in the morning. She’s probably asleep since she didn’t crash before the movie ended. I don’t usually sleep well; a good night for me is four hours. But, with Tilly beside me, I was so relaxed, so at home, that my body gave up the fight.

  Today, I feel like a new person.

  It’s a damn good feeling and one I hope will spur me on as I try to see if Tilly wants something to happen between us. I’ve got to make the jump eventually, so I’m going to. Slowly because this new version of her scares easily.

  I stick the Post-it note to my index finger and walk into the kitchen to make a coffee. She tidied up in here; her empty bottle is nowhere to be seen, and my glass is sitting upside down beside the sink, clean.

  I put the note on the worktop and read it again as I fill the kettle.

  My phone, still in my pocket, starts to ring. I put the kettle down as if it’s already hot and answer the call. It’s not her.

  “Hey, Jack. What’s up?”

  “Legoland tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “Hanna has been looking online, and there are a few rooms left. The park tickets are free. You in?”

  Okay, I knew there was talk of this but didn’t know it was anything more than that. “Has Hanna asked Tilly? Can you all get off work at short notice?”

  “Hanna said that she and Tilly are working today and then have a couple of days off. Mel doesn’t start her new job until next week, and Ian is going to call in sick.”

  “And you?”

  “My boss owes me a favour, so he’s giving me late-notice holiday.”

  He’s not answered my question about Tilly yet.

  “I’m in,” I reply.

  “Cool. Hanna is on the phone with Tilly. I’ll let Han book, and we can sort it out later, yeah?”

  I frown. Tilly hasn’t agreed to this yet then?

  “Sounds good.”

  My God, does it sound good.

  “You need any help in the house today? Han is going out shopping with Mel, so I’m free, if you need a hand.”

  “I need a hand,” I say. There’s much more work than I anticipated, and it’s slow-going on my own. “Come over whenever you’re free.”

  “All right. Now … what did you and Tilly get up to last night?”

  I freeze, my finger pressed on the button of the kettle. “What do you mean?”

  “I heard Hanna quizzing her. She stayed over?”

  “Not like that. She came over, and we watched a film. I fell asleep.”

  “You fell asleep? Dude, what is the matter with you? As if you fell asleep when she was with you!”

  I don’t know what is the matter with me. “Chill out, Jack. It’s not like we would have gone at it for hours if I hadn’t.”

  “You’ll never know,” he points out.

  “Oh, I know.”

  Though, if she wants to, I’m in.

  “See you soon, dickhead,” he says and hangs up the phone.

  I busy myself, making a drink and toast.

  Jack turns up about ten minutes after I finish breakfast. The house is still a mess—tools everywhere
and a half-finished kitchen since I ripped the wall tiles off and removed the cupboard doors to paint.

  The house is chaotic, but it’s what I need to keep myself busy. If I didn’t have a distraction, I think the close proximity of Tilly would slowly drive me insane.

  I let Jack in and make us each a drink.

  “So, you really fell asleep?” he asks, shaking his head with a smirk.

  I never claimed to be smart.

  “Are you going to let that go anytime soon?”

  “Hell no. I can’t believe you had her here, in your house, on your sofa, and you fell asleep.”

  “Nothing was going to happen, Jack.”

  He frowns. “You believe that? When you’re near each other, you can cut the sexual tension with a knife. Tilly might be trying to keep you at arm’s length, but in her mind, you’ve both had sex.”

  “It’s amazing what goes on in your mind.”

  “Whatever, man. You know I’m right. Though the more you both wait, the better it will be when you do get naked.”

  It’s been four years. I’ll probably come like a rocket in five seconds and then cry.

  “I’m not holding my breath.” I can’t deny that she feels something, but I don’t know that it’s strong enough to outweigh what I did.

  “Have you thought about what you’ll do if you don’t man up and make something happen?”

  He leans back against the worktop. A worktop that, as of yesterday, isn’t properly secured to the wall anymore. I’m not telling him.

  All the time. It’s one of my biggest fears, knowing Tilly is living her life without me in it. But I just want her to be happy, and if she can’t let herself be happy with me, then I have to walk away. She deserves the world.

  “I’ll deal with it,” I reply.

  He nods, lips pursed, not believing me at all.

  “Your poker face is shit,” I tell him.

  “This isn’t my poker face; this is my look of disapproval. You and Tilly have both spent four years doing absolutely fuck all. Four years, Linc. You will never get that back, so I guess I’m just surprised that you’re willing to waste more of your life.”

  I wince at the weight of his words.

  Everything he said is true. I can’t deny that, although I’ve worked jobs I enjoyed and lived on my own, I’ve done nothing with my life. I’ve been on hold, waiting in limbo to see if I would get the chance to see Tilly again.

  “That hit home?” he asks, lifting his eyebrow. There is no humour in his expression. There is nothing funny about this.

  I clear my throat. “I understand what you’re saying …” Where am I going with this? What is there to say? Realising you’ve lost four years is kind of a kick in the balls, to be honest.

  There is so much more I could have been doing. I’ve spent the whole time working, doing different roles within the advertising industry to prepare myself for starting a business with my dad. I’ve had aspirations of growing the business, buying a big house, and living a comfortable life, but what’s the point in having nice things if you don’t have anyone to share them with? Tilly should have been the priority.

  I’ve done this all wrong, thinking the only way to make it up to Robbie is to do something with my life professionally. He wouldn’t have cared where I lived or what job I was doing. He would have cared if I was happy. And he would have cared more if Tilly was.

  I should have come back for her long ago.

  “Look, I’m not trying to make you feel like shit.”

  “No, you’re right. I have nothing real to show for that four years.”

  My apartment was rented and is now being sold, so I have no place to live. I left my job because it was only a temporary position, and the other guy was returning.

  I might have done more than Tilly, but neither of us has done anything that truly matters. Neither of us is happy.

  “So, make up for it now. I know Hanna is about as subtle as a tornado, but she only wants to make you guys happy. She spends most nights thinking of ways to get you two back to how you were—and then more.” He smirks. “She has quite a few ideas actually.”

  I bet.

  “So, Legoland,” I say, my voice low and drained from having my life dissected and finding it to be hollow.

  He nods. “Legoland.”

  21

  Tilly

  I’m bored. We’re only twenty minutes into a two-hour drive to bloody Legoland, and no one will play any road trip games with me. Linc is driving, Jack is in the passenger seat, and Hanna is in the back beside me.

  Ian and Mel are leaving later after Ian works until midday because the big boss is in until eleven thirty, and then he’s going to fake illness.

  I’m still unsure about this whole thing. I mean, we’re not teenagers anymore, and I don’t think trying to re-create something we once had is the answer to our problems. We’re not the same people, we’re not carefree, and there is a massive elephant in the room in the form of my dead brother.

  And, yesterday, you had some very naughty thoughts about Linc.

  Apparently, we’re forgetting about the not-so-pleasant past for now and pretending like the last four years didn’t happen. And I’m not mad about it.

  I love Robbie, but I desperately want this for me.

  What kind of shit person does that make me?

  He lost his life, and here I am, wanting a normal weekend where there’s no pain, no void, and no missing a friend I didn’t realise had meant so much until he was gone.

  I’ll have this time with my friends and deal with the guilt later. It’s not easy to be selfish—I haven’t done that in a very long time—but I think I’ve earned this a little bit. I think I can possibly get through this weekend with minimal damage to myself.

  When I look up, my heart stills. Linc is glancing at me in the mirror. His eyes are back on the road the next second.

  Why does he always seem to know when I’m overthinking?

  I’m sharing a room with him too. It’s expensive and the rooms are laid out in a way that we’ll both have some privacy. At first, I wanted to tell Hanna to book another room, but it doesn’t make sense, and I want to do this. I’m trying to be his friend again, and, four years ago, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at sharing a room with him.

  Hanna flicks my leg, keeping her arm down low on the seat so that the boys can’t see what she’s doing.

  But what is she doing?

  Frowning in question, I wait for an explanation.

  She rolls her eyes, clearly unable to tell me because, whatever it is, Jack and Linc can’t hear. Pulling her phone out of her bag, she taps away, writing me a message—because that’s not going to be obvious.

  She puts the phone on the seat between us and stares at me while jabbing her index finger into the screen and sliding the phone toward me.

  Has she been drinking?

  I pick it up and read her message.

  Hanna: He keeps looking at you.

  I tap back, replying to her message.

  Tilly: We’re not talking about this.

  I swing my arm out, handing the phone back. She snatches it and slams it down on the seat. Giving me wide eyes, the look of disapproval, she points to the boys. Linc is looking. He saw me hand her phone back, but he can’t read the words.

  “Han, go to sleep or something,” I say.

  “What’s going on with you two?” Jack asks, twisting his body so that he can look into the back.

  “Nothing!” Hanna snaps. She gives Jack a big, toothy smile, which is going to do nothing to dispel his suspicions.

  I roll my eyes. “Hanna is being boring and won’t play any games.”

  Jack laughs. “You really don’t do long drives well, do you?”

  No, I don’t, and this isn’t really a long drive. I’d rather be up and doing something than sitting around, which I know seems weird since I’m not really doing much with my life at the moment. Or maybe that’s why. If I’m too still physically, I’ll think about
what a mess my life is.

  So, let’s not think about that …

  “Linc, the girls are up to something, and they won’t tell us,” Jack says, playfully narrowing his eyes at Hanna.

  “You do not need to know everything that goes on in my life, Jack,” she replies.

  He turns back, laughing and shaking his head. He knows better than to bite back. And he also knows that Hanna has a particularly big mouth and won’t be able to hide anything from him anyway.

  I raise my eyes and steal another look at Linc. This time, he’s focused on the road—like, crazy focused, as if he’s scared something is going to jump out in front of us.

  What is he thinking?

  I would give anything to get inside his head. I think Jack and Ian would sometimes, too. They’re pretty transparent, and their facial expressions usually give them away. Not Linc. He has one of the best poker faces I’ve ever seen.

  I find it incredible when Hanna and Mel say the same things about me. I’m able to hide a lot, especially from my parents, but I feel like my thoughts are written on my forehead, only my parents can’t read.

  The rest of the car journey passes much the same. Hanna and Jack flirt. Linc and I pretend like we don’t keep looking at each other in the mirror.

  When we arrive at Legoland and park the car, I get out and almost kiss the floor. Almost.

  Linc stretches his back, and his six-pack pokes through the thin cotton of his T-shirt.

  Okay, I’m going to need him to stop doing that … and to never stop doing that.

  “Shall we get checked in? I really need a shower,” Hanna says, pressing her boobs into Jack’s chest.

  He wastes no time in grabbing their bags and running—yes, running—for reception.

  “I hope our room is nowhere near theirs,” I say, taking my small suitcase from Linc.

  He grabs his holdall and slams the boot shut. “Yeah, me, too. We can request to change because of noisy sex next door, right?”

  “Or you could outdo them.” I snap my mouth shut so hard that my teeth audibly slam together.

  Linc raises his dark eyebrows. “Not going to say no to that, Tilly.”

  “You know exactly what I meant here, mister,” I reply, pointing my finger at him. But I can’t quite make a stern expression stick because I’m grinning too much.

 

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