Page 115 of Falling for You
He shrugs me off, embarrassed. ‘I just want to be helpful.’
‘I get that.’
We slip back into silence, staring at the throng of people zipping through the airport. They weave in and out, manically looking over their shoulders to check they haven’t lost anyone from their party as their wheeled suitcases drag loudly across the marble floors.
‘So, why are you going back?’
I break from my stare, his question catching me off guard.
‘Is it because of Annie?’
I frown, shaking my head. ‘Of course not,’ I say, a bit more tartly than I’d meant to. ‘I didn’t even know her six weeks ago.’
‘Why, then?’
I sink further into my seat, hoping that Stevie will catchon that I don’t want to get into it all. Unfortunately, he does the opposite.
‘Look, we’ve got another four hours before our flight. You might as well tell me the truth,’ he says, his voice all light and superior. It makes my toes curl.
‘Why do you care?’
‘Because you’re my brother.’
I huff, snatching the paper bag from Stevie and taking a bite of scone. It sticks to the roof of my mouth like a claggy chunk of bread and Stevie looks at me in horror.
‘You’re supposed to have jam and cream on it, you lunatic.’
I force myself to swallow the congealed ball of stodge and take another sip of my coffee to try and wash it down.
‘I’m going back because I don’t like it here,’ I say, coughing slightly as the scone sticks to my windpipe.
‘Right …’ Stevie says slowly. ‘And why’s that? Because it isn’t all sunshine and roses like the films make it out to be?’
‘Yes, actually.’
‘That can’t be the reason you’re going back to New York,’ Stevie scoffs. ‘That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. What are you, six years old?’
I glare at him. ‘It’s not just that.’
‘Well, what is it, then?’
I roll my eyes, debating whether to do what I always do, stuff this part down further inside me and pretend it doesn’t exist. But I’m so tired of fighting with myself, I don’t know if I have the energy.
‘Ever since I got here, I feel like I’m being punished,’ I say eventually. Stevie turns to face me, but he doesn’t sayanything. ‘Back home was really rough, looking after Mom,’ I continue. ‘I’d just moved out when she started to be … well, when she started acting different. I tried to go with the flow, but then it got worse, Stevie. You know you said she didn’t recognise you? She used to do that to me, only once or twice, but enough to make you feel like the worst person in the world. And the thing is, she always had an excuse for it after. She’d say that she hadn’t slept well, or it was the lighting. A lot of it was easy to explain away. Like, we all lose our keys or forget our pin numbers. But when it started getting really bad, well, that’s when I gave up more of my time to be with her and to help Dad. I only came here because Mom overheard me telling Dad about it, when I had the idea that Aunt Tell might make things better for her. Mom was desperate for me to go, and she was so excited that I let myself get wrapped up in her idea of it all. How I’d move here, live with you, find this amazing, exciting life, fall in love … just do all the things everyone around me seemed to be doing while I was stuck at my parents’ house, following Mom around, ready to catch her and piece her back together. I felt so bad about coming here, man. And then when I arrived and everything started being shit, it just felt like one big punishment for being selfish in the first place. Then I met Annie and everything was great, like, it was so amazing, and I finally thought thatthisis what I’d come to London for. But that fucked up too. You know, she asked if I’d fight for us on Saturday, and I just left. It felt like the final nail in the coffin. I needed to grow up and come home, take care of Mom, do what I needed to do.’
‘I think Dad does a pretty good job of taking care of Mom,’ Stevie says in a small voice.
‘Well, what about Dad, then?’ I cry, finding it hard not to explode. ‘Who is taking care of him?’
‘Nate …’ Stevie says. ‘You know it’s not your job to take care of everyone, right? I mean, you do a good job of it. But you need to take care of yourself, too.’
I shake my head, running my hand roughly through my hair. We both look forward, the clock flicking over to seven thirty.
‘Annie’s so talented,’ Stevie says eventually. ‘You know she made my costume for Saturday? I only asked her to mend it, but she transformed it.’
‘Yeah,’ I sigh, ‘she’s really talented. I think she’s going to do it as a business, so you should use her again.’
Stevie pulls out his phone. ‘Nah. She said my costume was the last she was making. My friend asked if she’d do a commission for him and she said no.’
