Page 76 of Am I the Only One

I need a new angle to keep her checkbook open.

When I contemplate my options, thoughts begin to flit in and out of my head. Some I dismiss because there’s no way to make them work, but one sticks. It also terrifies me because I would have to involve someone else.

Traffic slows as I make it back into the city, but it allows me more time to break apart this idea in order to find its flaws, of which there are few. Yet, it still seems too risky on too many levels, so I put it out of my head for the time being, knowing I’ll have to figure something out eventually.

Arriving home, I see Luca’s car parked in the driveway. When I step inside, he’s sitting in the living room, laughing at whatever the person he’s on the phone with is saying. With remnants of adrenaline still lingering, I grab one of Luca’s beers from the fridge, pop the cap, and take a long pull. I stroll into the living room and take a seat next to him on the couch, swiping the remote from his hand and changing the channel.

“Dude, your sister just got home and turned off the show.”

You’re talking to Matthew? I mouth.

He nods while continuing, “No worries, man. It’s saved to the DVR, so I’ll watch it later and call you back.”

I’m surprised to find the two of them talking on the phone, but it settles my adrenaline and puts me right at ease.

Holding my hand out, I whisper, “Let me talk to him.”

“Hey, Emma wants to say hi,” he says into his cell phone. “Have fun today, and I’ll check in with you tomorrow, okay?”

With a grin, Luca hands me the phone, and I smile back.

“Hey, buddy,” I greet my brother. “What is it that you’re doing today?”

“Bingo at lunch. They are even ordering pizzas!”

The fact that he’s this excited about eating delivery pizza bothers me. It also confirms that I need to be doing what I can to get him closer to me so that he can eat delivery pizza whenever he wants. “That sounds like fun,” I respond, my chipper tone completely feigned.

“But I have to go so I can get a good seat up front.”

“I miss you and love you.”

“Okay, bye,” he says quickly before hanging up.

“You’re drinking early,” Luca teases when I hand him back his cell.

“Since when do you and my brother talk on the phone?”

“Since the day we got back from Tennessee,” he answers.

It’s things like this, things that may seem insignificant to most but are monumental in my eyes, that make me appreciate Luca. It amazes me that he would take it upon himself to forge a friendship with my brother, but it also scares me that he’s embedding himself even deeper into my life than he already was.

“Is that okay with you?”

It takes a moment because I’m still a little stunned, but I eventually nod and tell him, “I’ve been thinking about moving him here to be closer to me.”

“You should. It would be good for the both of you.”

But it isn’t simple when money is an issue. If I allow Carly to be done with me, I’ll never be able to get stable enough to afford to move him here, let alone pay for a private facility. And even though I’ve been trying to find another job, I still don’t have one. I’m not convinced that, even if I did, I would make enough to scrape by and be able to pay for school. These thoughts snuff out all the good I was just feeling, turning one emotion into another like the flip of a switch, and suddenly, the overwhelming stress returns.

Dropping my head, I wring my hands as I go back to the thoughts I was having on the drive from the diner. Bricks slam down into the pit of my stomach. It’s one thing to have certain thoughts, and it’s another to actually voice them to the person who’s become a cornerstone in my life. Still, my love for my brother and the drive within me to provide the best possible life for him outweighs the fear I have of losing Luca.

“Is everything okay?”

I look up to my best friend, scared as shit to make this needed confession. I just don’t see any other way around this. I never thought I’d be able to scheme the way I have been, but when life offers you no other choice, you do what you have to do. With a slow breath, I hope to God that Luca will see it the same as I do.

He takes my fidgety hand in his, and with worriment etched in the lines of his forehead, he asks once more, “Emma, what’s wrong?”

I wonder how long it’s going to take him to let go of my hand when he realizes just how manipulative I’ve become beneath the surface.

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