Page 73 of Replay
“That’s what I want too!” I cry, pain slicing through my entire body.
“Then get your fucking shit together!” He stands up, buttoning his suit coat, then thrusts a finger at me. “Something is up with you. And if it’s not alcohol or drugs, it’s something else.”
I exhale heavily, my body feeling like it’s been punched with a thousand different memories of my past. Memories that I’ve tried my hardest to forget but roll through me, wreaking havoc on everything I thought I’d accomplished.
Shit, I’ve fucked up.
The most obvious fix to this situation is to tell Mac about Santino. But with the anger he’s displaying at this moment, telling him will most certainly make a bad situation ten times worse. And I don’t want that. Not at all. I want Mac to accept Santino and care for him like I do.
Goddammit, why didn’t I just tell him from the start? Why did I have to be so stupidly guarded and secretive? Because I was scared? Because I didn’t want to commit? Because I’m a fucking steel trap who hasn’t let anyone in for five fucking years and obviously for good reason?
I hate myself right now. I’m hiding this relationship from Mac because I know to get him to accept Santino, I need to tell him the full story about the night I got pregnant. Because like it or not, that night and Santino are intrinsically connected in Mac’s eyes. And Mac will never be able to forgive him until I’m brave enough to tell my brother the whole story.
That’s why it’s been easier to just be with Santino in private. It felt good to feel not broken. And it paid off because I’ve finally let someone in and allowed my heart to beat again.
However, this can’t go on forever. Mac needs to know the truth because Santino deserves that. But to tell him now when he’s already doubting my sincerity will complicate a very serious discussion. I need to handle this delicately for everyone’s sake.
Steeling myself, I hit him with an excuse that I hope he’ll accept. “I promise you, Mac, I’m not on drugs or drinking. I’ve just been distracted with the new job excitement and the idea of making my move to London permanent. I swear on my life that nothing bad is going on with me.”
“I hope that’s true.” Mac stares down at me, his jaw taut with emotion that I hate as he turns to walk away. He pauses in the entryway and looks over his shoulder at me. “Freya and I have decided that we’re going to call the bairn Fergie in honour of Granddad.”
My chin wobbles, and tears sting my eyes. I swipe them away and croak, “That’s so perfect, Mac.”
“I thought you’d like it.” He stomps heavily back over and leans down to press a kiss to my head. “I love you, Tilly.”
I hold his hand on my shoulder. “I love you too, Macky.”
And when he leaves, I feel an overwhelming urge to drink for the first time in years.
“Thanks for coming with me to this scan,” Freya says as she rubs her belly over top of her medical gown in a small exam room at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital where Belle Harris is a foetal surgeon and occasional prenatal specialist to VIP patients like Freya.
“It’s my pleasure,” I reply, forcing a smile as I struggle to figure out what to text Santino about plans for this weekend.
“Mac was gutted he couldn’t get away from work today, but they’re presenting their new video game update to a big sponsor, so it really wasn’t something he could miss.”
“It’s no problem.” I blacken the screen on my mobile with a huff and put it away in my bag because I know nothing will sound right in a text.
“Who are you texting?” Freya asks curiously.
A guilty smile spreads across my face. “Santino.”
Her brows waggle excitedly. “You guys have plans tomorrow? You usually like to go out to the markets on Saturdays, right?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m kind of…well…I’m not avoiding him, but I’m trying to back off for a moment.”
“What? Why?” Freya gasps, her face crestfallen.
I hold my hands up defensively. “I’m not breaking it off. I’m just trying to kill time before I see him again.”
“Whatever for?”
I sigh heavily. “You know why.”
“Because Mac accused you of drinking again?”
She stares at me sadly, and I feel my eyes well with tears all over again. Every time I think of that pained look in Mac’s eyes, my heart breaks. I hate this situation. I hate that I put myself in this situation by having a problem with alcohol at all.
I force a smile. “I wanted to tell him the truth about Santino and me right then, but you know my brother.”
