Page 34 of Embracing Us

“You’re definitely theatrical. Did you go to drama school? Some of the stories Max has told me sound like a comedy show. You’d be a good villain. Cruella de Vil.” He winks dramatically then bows in my direction. “I could imagine you with black and white hair. I’m sure you could learn to swivel your eyeballs like she does.”

“You’ve only heard one side of the story,” I argue, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I was there in the bar when you dropped your friend in it with Max. I’m assuming you are no longer friends. That was a poor move if ever I saw one.” My mouth which was ready to disagree snaps closed, unable to justify my actions. His lips quip into a cheeky smile, knowing he’s got me. “He’s a good man, Marina,” he says, his eyes moving towards the now closed bedroom door. “But he loves your mum. There is no chance on this earth anything would happen between you. Not that I believe you think it could. I’m not even convinced you like him in that way. You only want him because he’s with your mother.”

“That’s not true!” I throw the bag and the t-shirt in my hand onto the carpet. “I can’t help how I feel.”

“You can. You’re being a spoiled brat because things haven’t gone your way recently. I don’t know who hurt you or why, but trying to destroy someone else’s relationship isn’t going to stitch your heart back together.” His expression is serious, and his eyes lift to the ceiling before dropping back to mine. “Love isn’t easy. Life isn’t easy. But pushing away the people who care for you isn’t the way to handle bad times.”

“You have no right to talk to me like this. What the hell do you know?”

“I’ve known love and loss. I’ve hated everyone but needed people. Max is like a younger brother to me. I was here when he lost his parents. I’ve seen him have his heart broken. He deserves happiness; so does Linda. You, young lady, need to learn to be okay with it. Your issues are your problem, not theirs.”

“Young lady,” I hiss. “I’m an adult.”

“I suggest you start acting like one. You have a lovely family who want you to be part of it. A mother who loves you, a baby brother, and a life to live. Being a nasty little cow isn’t going to get you far.” He sighs and his shoulders drop. “You have apologies to make, and you need to speak to your mum. She will be angry and hurt, but if you make the first move, it is possible you could salvage your relationship.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I ask, shamelessly.

“Then you’re fucking stupid,” he replies bluntly. “And I know you aren’t. If you want my advice…” I roll my eyes and cross my arms across my chest, clearly signalling I don’t. He ignores the gesture. “You get any thought of Max out of your head, other than him being your brother’s father. You get on your knees and grovel, then hope your mother welcomes you with open arms. They will be in Spain for months, creating a life you can be part of.”

“My mother has walked away from me. She has a new life, a new child, and a soon-to-be new husband. There is going to be no room for me.”

“What has your mother done to make you think that?” His hands move to his hips, he leans forward slightly. The way he assesses me makes me squirm. “From what I’ve heard, she puts you first every damn time. The night Max had the accident, him leaving was down to you.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I snap. “I am not responsible for what happened that night.”

“The accident was an accident. The only person at fault was the woman who crossed the street without looking.” His tone is firm, with no room for discussion. I’m hearing this whether I want to or not. “But the scenario that led up to then was your fault. You created a situation that caused him to leave. You being Linda’s daughter meant she was left conflicted. In my opinion, your mother should have asked him to stay that night.” His eyes return to the closed door Max is behind. I wonder if he’s heard any of our conversation, but the booming dance music suggests probably not. “Hindsight is a gift, but the damage is already done. What matters is how we move forward. What do you want Marina?”

“What do you mean?” I question.

“Do you want to be happy and loved? Or will you die miserable and hating everyone for situations you created by being short-sighted?” The two questions sit between us. Part of me wants to argue, to reject everything he has said, but so much of it is true. As I stand there, in the middle of my mother’s fiancé’s hallway, looking at a man I thought was beneath me. I realise for the first time that my happiness is no one’s responsibility but mine. The realisation is overwhelming but freeing. It’s time to grow up and learn to live.

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