Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
“You said honesty is the best policy, so I’ll hold to that.” I paused. “Yes, she is.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Jesus Christ, man. I wish you could hear yourself. You really are out of your fucking mind.”
I could hear myself loud and clear, actually, and I was speaking the greatest truth I’d ever told him, but I couldn’t hold any judgement over him for misbelieving me. I hadn’t exactly done much to instil confidence. My dreams of open arms and understanding were shrivelling away. I thought I’d bared my soul in the letters, but maybe my soul wasn’t quite what they’d taken from it.
“Let’s get those drinks,” I said.
I went through to the kitchen and my brother followed me. I took mugs down and put the kettle on, my stomach still rolling.
“Have you any idea how frantic we’ve been? We’ve been looking for you, you know?” he said. “Have you any idea how terrified we’ve all been for you?”
No, I hadn’t. His words made me stop what I was doing, searching his stare.
“Looking for me?”
His expression darkened, and his jaw changed, trembling. And my brother – the strongest, most steel hearted man I’d ever known – looked as though he was going to break down before my eyes.
“We thought you’d have gone somewhere we knew, to someone who knew us, or used your passport, or your fucking business account card, or anything. ANYTHING. But there was nothing! You didn’t leave a single fucking trace!”
His hurt was rooting its way through anger, and I didn’t blame him. I didn’t blame him at all.
“I didn’t think I’d need to leave a trace,” I told him. “After all I’d done, I wasn’t planning on staying around.”
He held up the letter. “Yes. I know. You made that plain. Sitting here, plotting your own demise. Would you have truly done it? Ended your life alone here, with a pile of pills and a bottle of whisky?”
“I think you can tell that from my letter, yes.”
He looked at it, as though it was some trusted holy document, shaking his head. “I’m still struggling to believe it. You were ready to say your goodbyes and write your whole life off, just like that?”
“I didn’t have anything left to live for. I thought it would be in everyone’s interest if I did.”
“I can assure you it wouldn’t have been.”
I continued making the coffee, but he stormed on over at that, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him.
“We were worried fucking sick, Julian! Worried sick! You really think we wanted you dead? Seriously? For fuck’s sake man, you’re fucking INSANE!”
I felt my own hurt welling up in a fresh round of shame.
“I wanted me dead. I thought I deserved it.”
His eyes were both angry and hurt at the same time under heavy brows.
“Because you’re ill, Julian! You need help! We all know it. Katreya knows it, Grace and Ryan know it. I do. You have serious mental health problems, and you’re an alcoholic. You’ve broken down! We just didn’t know it. It’s been happening for years, right before our eyes, but we didn’t see it. We didn’t fucking know.”
“Yes, it had, and I kept it very well hidden.”
“We found the stash of whisky bottles. Katreya saw the full extent of your perversions.”
“Exactly. So I left. I didn’t expect anyone’s forgiveness. I only had myself to blame.”
“NO!” Michael said. “That’s NOT true. We wouldn’t have blamed you if we’d known you were ill. You’ve done some despicable things, Julian, but you’re not a bad man. We can hate the actions, yes, but we can’t hate you.”
I didn’t know quite what to say to that. At one point, I’d have believed him. I’d have dropped at his feet and given my thanks, overcome by the truth in his words.
Some of it was correct. I had been an alcoholic and hidden it. I had been fucking college girls behind everyone’s back, and a lot of them. I had buckled under the weight of the truth when it had been discovered.
“I had broken down, yes,” I told him. “When I threw some things into a suitcase I was on the brink, ready to leap off a bridge. I didn’t dare hope there was anything more. But then, slowly, I got back to my feet. I looked inside, and found what I’d been missing.”
He pulled a face at me, as though I was talking nonsense.
“You sound like a wannabe zen master. Is there a wacko New Age club around here when people aren’t crack smoking?”
“Hey, stop it with that!” I said, surprised at the fire in me. “I’m not a wannabe zen master, and this place might seem like a cesspit to you, as it did to me, but that isn’t quite the case. Not all of it.”
He scoffed. “That just confirms it. You really have lost your mind.”