“Finn.” My voice is quiet, afraid it’ll crack if I say any more.
“I was a shit brother,” he sniffles. “When you were in the hospital, I went back to uni and drank myself half to death most nights. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me because I couldn’t live with the guilt and the sickness I felt almost every night. I couldn’t shake what happened, I still can’t.”
My throat burns from how hard I’m trying not to cry. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was,” he murmurs. “It was.”
When my mouth parts, I begin to tremble. “It wasn’t. I’ve never blamed you.”
Finn turns towards me with red eyes and watery lids. His lips part as if he’s about to say something, but shut a second later. I study him carefully, his shoulders are shaking, and his face is scrunched up.
“I failed you, as a brother, I failed you.”
“You had no idea what he was capable of, Finn.”
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, and I rest my head against his shoulder. “If he comes anywhere near you or us, I’ll kill him.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But you shouldn’t. He’s not worth going to prison for.”
“He is if he tries to hurt you again.”
We glance at each other, and Finn bundles me into his arms this time. I can’t remember the last time I hugged my brother like this, but it makes my heart settle, both needing this moment to calm down. “If I could erase him from our memories, I would.”
“Me too,” I agree. “But I want to be happy. That is the only thing I want.”
“I want that for you, too, Ivy,” he says, clutching me tighter. “So much.”
“Everything okay out here?” JJ’s voice from the back door startles us.
I glance up at him, and he flicks his concerned eyes between the pair of us with blotchy cheeks.
“Yeah,” I croak and rid myself of any rogue tears. “All good.”
JJ flashes us an apprehensive look but doesn’t press. It’s probably for the best, I know Finn struggles to open up about what happened. But I want to move on because otherwise, I don’t think I’ll ever heal.
The soundof the front door being ripped off its hinges echoes through the house. I whip my head over my shoulder to find Finn barely standing in the doorway. As soon as I’m on my feet, I walk towards him, and the strong odour of alcohol wafts through the room.
It makes my stomach churn. It’s a Monday afternoon. Jesus.
“Are you okay?” I call out to him as he hangs off the door and slams it loudly behind him.
His eyes are so bloodshot that I can barely see the white. I grab him, but he waves me off, stumbling into the wall and latching onto the curtains. “I-I have to get ready for work,” he slurs.
“Work? Finn, you can barely stand up.”
I watch him cautiously as he attempts to walk towards the kitchen, and I follow him slowly. My arms wrap around myself as he latches onto the counter. “I’m going,” he spits, his eyes unable to focus on a single thing. “I have to or they’ll fire me.”
“How much did you have to drink?”
He turns to me with a sneering scoff. “That’s none of your business,Mum.”
The tone of his voice cuts through my chest.
I walk towards him and grab his wrist gently, trying to get him to look at me, but he refuses. “You can’t go to work like this, Finn. You need to go to bed and sleep it off.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” he yells, which makes me flinch.
“What’s going on?”
