“So, you are planning on staying here. Does Dad know?”
“Not that it’s anything to do with you, but I’ll sort out what I’m doing with Dad.”
Stanley shakes his head. “Man, you’ve got no idea what you’re doing.”
Maybe not. But then neither does Tilly.
“I’ll figure it out.”
I don’t like the unknown. Not like this anyway. I’m happy to go with the flow through most of my life, but when it comes to her, I need security.
I turn to leave because he’s making me angry, and I need some air. Since he got here and Tilly left, I’ve been burning inside. The same deep anger I’ve felt for the last four years is bubbling back to the surface.
I’m angry with myself, my brother, and my girl.
There are mistakes that I can never run from, and I was stupid to think I could move past them so easily.
Slamming the front door behind me, I grind my teeth at Stanley shouting something after me. I can’t make it out, and that’s probably for the best.
I stop on my way to my car. Emma is just pulling into their drive. She cuts the engine, gets out, and freezes when she sees that I haven’t left.
“Morning,” I say. There is so much more I want to say than that.
I want to know about Tilly, but how can I ask that when my brother is meters away? I don’t know how to talk to Tilly about anything. When I see her, I just want to apologise over and over, but I don’t think she wants to hear it.
“Morning, Lincoln.”
Screw it.
“Is she okay?”
Her smile softens. “She’s doing all right.”
All right. At least one of us is.
“Have a good day,” I say and practically dive for my car. I need to drive and put some distance between me and my brother.
41
Tilly
I get into work just in time and rush into the staff room to dump my bag. It’s a miracle I made it at all after only getting a few hours’ sleep. I miss Linc more than I thought was possible.
Mum saw him yesterday morning. When she told me about it, I pretended it was no big deal. I mean, we live next to each other for now, so it’s going to happen at some point. But it is a big deal because, although I pretend I’m doing okay and that things were too new with Linc to bother me that much, I feel like I’m dying.
No one but Linc knows that I love him. That hasn’t stopped just because we’re not together.
We can’t be together, and it hurts so bad that I feel sick.
Stanley is staying in a house meters from mine.
How could he think it’s okay to come back here? Is he trying to prove a point?
Maybe he thinks that, because Linc hasn’t been chased out of town with pitchforks, he would be welcome back, too.
The town isn’t all that thrilled to have Linc here, let alone the guilty brother.
No one has mentioned anything to me yet, so I can only assume he’s been staying in the house. It’s been four days now though.
How much longer can he hide out for?
Linc might be making him stay inside.
I chuck my bag on the sofa and check my reflection. Great. Puffy under eyes, barely covered with concealer, hair messily tied up—but not that cool I meant it to look messy messy—and blotchy skin.
No one is going to care as long as I’m bringing them food and drink, and I sure as hell don’t care much about my appearance right now.
Everything is so raw still. Every time I close my eyes, I can see the look of pain rip through Linc’s face when I told him we were done. It’s all such a mess. Much like my hair.
I head into the restaurant, giving my colleagues a smile as I head to my section. Hanna isn’t working today—thank goodness. She would have a lot to say about Linc and Stanley. She already has, but I’ve managed to avoid her for long periods of time so far. I love that she has my back, but listening to her bitching about Stanley isn’t what I need at the minute.
Linc didn’t know Stanley was coming back.
God, he’s not his brother’s keeper, and he certainly can’t control him.
I take orders from a waiting table and go to the bar to make their tea and coffee.
“Everything okay, Tilly?”
I turn around at the sound of Greg’s voice.
“Hi,” I say, blinking hard to check if he’s really here or not. I seem to recall him telling me we weren’t friends anymore as long as I wanted Linc in my life. “Greg,” I say, “you’re here.”
He laughs. “Looks like it.”
I pick up the tea and coffee I just made. “Will you give me a minute? I’ll just take these and then come back.”
He nods and takes a seat at the bar. I feel his eyes on my back as I take the drinks, and I see them on my face as I walk back.
“What’s up?” I ask, standing next to him.
He pats the stool next to him. “Will you sit down?”
“I would, but I’m not allowed to while I’m working. Is everything okay though? Are you all right?”
“I saw him,” he admits. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that him is Stanley.
“Where?” I ask.
“His house. I was driving past late last night after a date and saw him getting in his car. Why is he back?”
I shrug. “I don’t know why. Because he can?”
“Well, how are you? And your parents?” he asks, his voice soft. The tone he always uses for conversations surrounding the Reid family.
“I’m not all that great, and my parents haven’t seen him yet.”
“Do they know?”
“Yeah. They’re doing okay, but I can tell it hurts, the possibility of seeing him again.”
“Jesus, Tilly. You should have called me.”
I tilt my head to the side and deadpan.
“Come on. No matter what happens, you know I’ll be there if you really need me. What has Lincoln said about Stanley coming back?”
“He said he didn’t know he was coming, but I didn’t really give him much chance to talk.”
Greg’s eyebrows rise, and he turns his body toward me. “You two aren’t together anymore?”
I sigh. “We were never together, Greg. He’s a friend. He’s always been a friend.”
Lies.
“There’s nothing more there?”
“No … well, yes, but there can’t be. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”
I take a second to look around the room. There are only two tables in my section at the minute. One is waiting on food, and the other was served by someone else before I got in, and they are eating.
“You have feelings for him,” Greg says. He’s not asked me a question because he believes he’s right.
He knows I do.
“I have feelings for him. Maybe it’s just the nostalgia of how things were before.”
“Is that what you really think?”
No. I love him more than anything.
“Whatever. It’s not a problem anymore.”
I think he’s pretty mad at me after the way I spoke to him. We need some distance, and I certainly can’t pretend like everything is fine and hang out with him when Stanley is there.
“Do you want to meet and talk about it?” he offers, tapping his hands on the bar.
“You don’t need to worry about me, Greg. I’m fine. Don’t feel like you have to check up on me. I can sense your reluctance.”
He frowns. “I just said that, if you need me, I’ll be there.”
“Yeah, but I said I’m fine, and you believe me.”
He averts his eyes, gritting his teeth.
“You always were easy for me to read,” I tell him.
“Right. Well, I’ll be off then. Take care of yourself, Tilly.”
“You, too, Greg.”
I watch him walk out and then head to the kitchen to see if my table’s food is ready yet. It would have been so easy to accept Greg’s offer. He’s always been good a
t cheering me up, but that wouldn’t have been fair. He only asked me to be polite, so I’m not going to force him to do something he doesn’t feel comfortable to do.
With a heavy heart, I take two full English breakfasts to my table.
Get through this shift, and you can go home to watch an unhealthy amount of Netflix.
Nothing scary though. Horror reminds me of Linc.
Okay, let’s not think about him.
I freeze as I walk to my car after a busy shift at work. No. Not him.
What’s he doing here, in the middle of the car park, by my car?
Stanley looks up, but his expression doesn’t change when he sees me. His light eyes are as emotionless as ever. I’m not sure if there’s something wrong with him or if he’s just too involved in himself. But I don’t really care.
I want to leave, but I won’t let him drive me away. With my throat feeling like I’ve swallowed sand, I shuffle toward him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, folding my arms.
“I want to talk to you.”
“What could you possibly have to say to me after what you did?”
“Tilly,” he grunts, “I am sorry about the accident.”
About the accident. No, I’m sorry your brother is dead?
“Do you always diminish your responsibility?”
He inhales noisily through his nose. “That’s not what I’m doing. I just said I’m sorry.”
“But are you, Stanley? Because you certainly don’t sound like it.” Fire burns in my veins. “He died, and you never showed you gave a shit!”
“He was my friend.”
“Yeah, that was his mistake. You’re selfish, and you’re acting like this is a game. You think you can give a halfhearted apology, and all is forgotten? Jesus, you’re responsible for my brother’s death!”
“He didn’t have to get in my car.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I spit. “Why are you here? You might not think that you did anything wrong, but everyone else knows otherwise, so stop lying to yourself and take a shot at being a decent person for once in your pathetic life.”
Stanley’s eyes twitch as he glares at me like I’m the Antichrist. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me.”
“I know what I see, Stanley, and I see a spineless dickhead who will blame everyone and everything else before he admits his faults. You tell yourself what you need to, but deep down, you know what you are.”
“This was a mistake.”
“Yeah, it was. You should leave now. Leave your old house and leave town. Stop bringing Linc down.”
His top lip curls. “Until that house is sold, my family owns it, and I’ll stay as long as I like.”
“Linc is okay with that?”
“He’s my brother.”
“That’s not a yes.”
“You know what, Tilly? You can fuck off.” Stanley storms past me.
I ball my fists and breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Tears sting my eyelids at the cruelty in his words.
How can anyone be responsible for a person’s death and not be sorry?
Stanley doesn’t care that his irresponsible drunk driving killed Robbie, his friend.
They’d spent so much time together; they were always together, and he doesn’t care.
Does he not miss him? Is he too deep into concealing his wrongdoing that he doesn’t see what he did?
He blamed Robbie for getting into the car.
I do, too. My brother shouldn’t have been so stupid, but who gets behind the wheel of a car, knowing they’ve consumed alcohol?
I’m so over today.
I get into my car and slam the door. Then, I burst into tears, gripping my steering wheel.
42
Linc
I run my hands through my hair and lay my head back on the sofa. Ever since Stanley came back, I’ve barely slept. He’s being unfair to Tilly, Emma, and Dan. There is no remorse.
My brother has no remorse for killing his friend.
I don’t know what to do with that. He should have gone to prison. My parents made the wrong decision when they fought to keep him out. Stanley needed it. He still does, but the door for that one is firmly closed.
Maybe, if there had been a suitable punishment for his actions, he wouldn’t behave like he’s a victim, too.
The British justice system didn’t hold him properly accountable, so why should he?
What does that mean for him now? Will he ever be able to take responsibility for anything he does?
God, this isn’t my fight. I can’t force him to face facts and be sorry.
He’s not apologised to Robbie’s parents. Not even back then.
How can you not be sorry?
I can’t wrap my mind around it. This isn’t even just about Robbie’s family; it’s about him. Stanley and Robbie were friends. As far as I’m aware, Stanley hasn’t been to Robbie’s grave to apologise. He’s never broken down and wished there was something he could do to bring him back.
Mum and Dad aren’t happy that he’s home, but like usual, they back him. Stanley has a right to be here, to say good-bye to the home he grew up in. That’s their take on the matter.
They’re as deluded as him.
The front door slams, making the wall rattle. I jump and turn around, looking over the back of the sofa.
Stanley storms in the room, his face red and jugular vein pulsing.
“What the hell was that?” I growl.
“Your girlfriend is a bitch, by the way.”
He went to see Tilly.
My hands tremble as a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. I stand up and face him. “What?”
“I saw her in town, and she ranted like a psycho.”
“What the fuck were you doing, talking to her?” I snap. God, that is the last thing she needs. “What is wrong with you?”
He folds his arms and puffs out his chest, trying to make himself look bigger and more imposing. “There is nothing wrong with me. I went to talk to her, and that was obviously a mistake because she’s crazy.”
“She’s not crazy, you prick. She misses her brother! Can you not see your part in this at all?”
“So, she still hates you, too?”
“I wasn’t driving, dickhead, and I’m sorry for what happened.” I shake my head. “You want people to forgive you, Stanley? You have to earn it. Hold your hands up and admit what you did wrong, apologise, do whatever it takes to prove that you’re sorry.”
“Why the fuck should I beg people to like me again?”
Jesus.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “If you’re not willing to do that, you’re not willing to be forgiven. Why can’t you see that?”
For the first time, I wonder if there is something really wrong with him. Is he capable of feeling remorse?
I don’t believe he would ever potentially hurt anyone, but he doesn’t seem to care that he has.
“I don’t need it the way you do. I don’t love Tilly.”
I grind my teeth and drop my hand. “That’s not the point here. This is about Robbie. Your friend.”
“Look, whatever. I came back here, hoping that being in our childhood home might improve things between us, but obviously, that’s not going to happen, so I’m leaving.”
“What? Things would be a whole lot better between us if you would man the fuck up. I can forgive mistakes, Stanley, but you have to admit your mistake.”
“I wasn’t alone in that car.”
Oh my God!
“I’m not saying I’m blameless, but you’re saying you are. Mum and Dad have made this so easy on you. You’re not a child who needs protecting.”
His eyes twitch. “So, you think I should have gone to prison?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I think. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so incapable of seeing any fault or blame in yourself.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re my brother!”
>
“That doesn’t mean I think you shouldn’t be held responsible for your actions! I will have at least a fraction of respect for you if you admit to me right now that you are to blame for Robbie’s death.”
Stanley opens his mouth, and I can tell by the tightness around his eyes that he’s about to protest.
“Not that you’re the only one to blame, but you are to blame,” I add, stopping him from using that bullshit.
“You know what, Linc? We’re done. I don’t need a brother like you. I’m going home.” His lip curls at the corner as he walks away from me and heads upstairs.
That is fine with me. He can leave. He can want nothing more to do with me if this is how he is going to be. There is no point in hanging on to someone purely because you share DNA.
There is nothing redeeming about my brother, but I can still work on me. I can still try to make it up to Robbie’s family in every way I can. That used to be by staying away, and it still might be, but I’m hoping things have changed too much for Tilly, so she won’t slam the door in my face permanently.
I walk around the sofa as Stanley bangs a door above me. He must be packing.
Bloody good.
Stanley might be done, but I am, too. We’re too different.
After five more minutes of stomping and slamming, Stanley thunders down the stairs, bag in his hand.
The vein in his neck is still twitching. He passes me, keeping his eyes ahead and his lips glued together.
He swings the front door open and marches out. I roll my eyes and follow him out of the open door. He rips his car door open and throws his bag onto the passenger seat.
My eyes slide sideways at the sound of a door opening on Tilly’s house.
She freezes mid-step as she spots me and Stanley. Her mouth parts like she’s seen a ghost. Gripping her throat, she spins around and darts back in the house.
I press my hand into the endless ache in my chest and rip my eyes from her front door just in time to watch my brother drive off without another word.
43
Tilly
Stanley left two days ago, but I still haven’t seen Linc since. He was outside his house, and then … nothing. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth.
After the End Page 25
