“No, but she told me that she’s so in love with you that she can’t breathe when your around.”
He closed his eyes for a few long seconds.
“Fuck,” he whispered, so, so quietly I barely heard it over the crack of the fire.
“What’s holding you back? I know you have feelings for her.”
He closed his eyes again, shook his head, and took a deep breath through his nose. When he opened them and looked at me, I could see a whole world of hurt written all over my brother’s face.
“I fucked up. I did something really, really stupid a long time ago and it means that me and Sasha can never happen.”
“But why? I don’t understand.”
“It’s not something I wanna talk about. If I tell you, then it means I’ll be putting you in a position where you might have to lie for me one day, and I don’t wanna do that.”
“I’d lie for you any day.”
“I know you would. I know you would, but I don’t want you to have to, so we’ll just leave things at that.”
I knew my brother well enough to know that the conversation was over, so I said no more.
I jumped as my phone vibrated in my hand. Hoping it was Liam, I flipped it open.
It was a text from Sasha.
Sash: Hey, fat girl, fancy some company?
“It’s Sasha, she wants to come over.”
Luke scratched at his chin and sighed. “Tell her yes. I’ll leave you girls to it.”
“Why can’t I have both of you here?”
“I can’t be around her, Sarah. It fucking hurts. You’re right. I do have feelings for her, but it won’t ever happen. It can’t ever happen.”
“I’ll just tell her no then.”
“No. Have some girl time. I’m gonna see if I can get on an earlier flight. As long as you’ve got someone here with you, Del will be fine with it.”
“I love you, you know that, right?”
“Of course I do. I love you, too. Just hang in there. Take it easy on Del and remember he’s doing all this for you.”
I nodded.
“Now, text your crazy mate back and tell her to come look after you.”
While my brother gathered his stuff from our spare bedroom, I texted Sasha back, all the while wondering what the deal was with Luke.
As if they coordinated their switch, Sasha arrived to spend the night just ten minutes after Luke left.
I woke with my head hanging over the side of the bed. There was a sour smell invading my nostrils, and when I opened one eye, I found myself staring down at a pile of my own puke.
“Fuck.” I groaned and sat up slowly, trying to collect my bearings. Both my watch and the room’s digital clock told me that it was almost eleven. It was light outside, so I assumed that meant it was eleven in the morning, although in Scotland, I couldn’t always tell. I picked up a menu and worked out that I was still at The George, the hotel we were in last night. My laptop, and the small overnight bag I flew with were sitting on the desk, and after scanning the room for my shoes, I realized they were still on my feet. I searched around for my phone and eventually found it in my suit jacket’s pocket, but the battery was dead.
I used the hotel phone and dialled our home number, but it clicked over to the messaging service. I tried again just in case Sarah couldn’t find the cordless, which was usually the case, but that went to the service, too. I tried to remember Sarah’s mobile number, but I couldn’t—I didn’t think I had ever actually dialled it. It was saved in my contacts and I just pressed call.
I decided to order room service. I was starving and badly in need of a shower, so I took one while I waited for my food to arrive. For the second time in an hour, I was grateful that I had the foresight to pack a change of clothes, deodorant, and a toothbrush.
As soon as my food arrived, I poured myself a coffee and dialled Luke, but I got his voice mail. His number I could remember because it was printed on our business cards. Then I tried the office. They would have Sarah’s number on file somewhere, but there was no answer there either. It was the office, my office. How the fuck could there be nobody there? I needed to buy a phone charger.
I ate as quickly as I could as I typed out emails to Liz and Mel, asking where the fuck they were. If they weren’t in the office, then it was highly unlikely they were logged into their work emails.
Surprisingly, Mel messaged me straight back:
I’m at that relocations expo in Docklands.
I told you I was coming to talk to the Australian building company that are here.
Why, what’s wrong?
I tried my home number again from the hotel as I typed out a reply to Mel.
Where the fuck’s Liz? There’s no one answering the phones in the office!
I cleaned my teeth and stuffed my suit into my bag, making ready to leave and waiting for Mel’s reply.
Her nan died. The funeral’s today.
Shit, I’d forgotten all about that.
Did we send flowers?
I forced my work shoes into the small carry-on bag and pulled on my boots.
We did.
Was all I got back from Mel.
I’m still in Scotland. My phone’s dead. Do you have Sarah’s number on you?