Nick
Inervously jiggle my knee up and down as I sit in the white plastic chair, rubbing my hands against my jeans. I’m trying to calm myself down, relieve my anxiety of being here again.
I rest my elbows on my knees and drop my head into my hands, trying to pull more air into my lungs and avoid another panic attack. Suddenly, a familiar pair of shoes appears underneath me.
I lift my head quickly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think you cared.”
He sits down on the chair next to me. “I’d have come with you. Always.”
“Not in the last few years, you wouldn’t.”
“You know exactly why.”
I lean back against the seat. “Then what’s changed?”
“It’s time to move on.”
I smile inwardly. It looks like everyone is ready to move forward except me.
“Did Mum tell you?”
“I asked her. I knew it was roughly around now, I just didn’t know the exact date. And I want you to know that, in the last few years I was always behind you – even if I wasn’t around to show it.”
Fuck you, Ryan.
Did he really need to make me feel even more guilty than I already do? I almost destroyed his life, and here he is now, next to me. Where he’s always been.
What the fuck did I do to deserve him?
“Nervous?” he asks, without meeting my gaze.
“Nah.”
“Nick… You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”
“I’m used to it.”
“I know how difficult it is every time. And I don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.”
I sigh heavily. “It just feels like I’m taking a step back, into who I was and…I don’t want to. That’s all.”
“It’ll be okay.”
“I know.”
Ryan places his hand on my shoulder, and I take a deep breath. Because as nervous as I am, as much as I don’t want to admit to my fear, my brother’s support is more painful than anything else.
It makes no sense: him being here should comfort me. His affection should give me strength. Instead, it only digs up old memories of all the stupid mistakes I’ve made, and the fact that I’ve always been forgiven by everyone, even when they shouldn’t have. I know that he’s here, letting me completely back into his life – and I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it.
“Thanks, Ryan,” I say quietly.
“No worries, bro.”
We fall into silence. Ryan knows I don’t like talking in situations like this – I prefer to ignore what’s happening, just like I ignore everything serious that comes my way. Just like I pretend that nothing’s important, nothing bothers me or causes me pain. Ryan knows not to try and fill the silence; I don’t need distractions. I need to face this head-on, so that I can move past it.
