Ian
“Get up!”
A pillow lands on my head.
“I said get up!”
I open one eye and then close it right away. No. Not my arsehole brother, not now.”
“Move your arse.”
“Fuck off, Ryan.”
“You haven’t been to the gym or been home in days. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m sick.”
He sits on the bed and hits me again with a pillow that feels about as soft as a brick.
“Are you crazy?!” I yell, hearing my skull explode.
“You can’t just give up on everything.”
“Mind your own business.”
“You can’t do all this just for a woman.”
“Are you being serious?”
“You can’t make the same mistake I did, I won’t let you.”
I sit on the edge of the bed while Ryan hands me a cup of coffee.
“Do you even know what day it is?”
“Do you think I give a shit?”
Ryan sighs in frustration. “I warned you. You should have listened to me. If you really cared about her so much, you should have told her the truth right away.”
“I don’t need one of your ‘I told you so’s’.”
“You never need anything,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I wish that was true.”
I stand up, and he mirrors me.
“What happened to this house?” he asks alluding to the damage that lies everywhere, the broken furniture, the smashed glass.
“Come on, I’ll give you a hand cleaning up.”
“What’s the point? She’s not coming back. I’m alone again.”
“You landed on your feet once, you’ll do it again. Like me. Are we or are we not O’Connors?”
I give a tight smile.
“It’ll pass,” he says, putting a hand on my shoulder.
