psychobabble bullshit to yourself.’
‘No. This time you listen.’
I’d never heard Remy like this, his tone low and lethal. Ice cold. Chilling.
‘Dad did a number on you. I get it. For some unknown reason he hated you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t around enough to figure it out earlier. But he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more, so why are you letting him?’
I gaped at Remy in open-mouthed shock. I’d never spoken to him about Dad. Had gone out of my way to put on a brave face the few times Remy was home to eat dinner with us. Had deliberately pretended I was fine while he chased his dream and I lived at home with a monster that blamed me for every bad thing that had happened in his life.
I could deny it now. But what was the point? Besides, it might do me good to offload some of the bottled-up crap, considering I was screwing up with Abby because of it.
‘How did you know?’
Remy slumped, aging before my eyes. ‘The day before Dad died I came home early. Heard you two arguing. Heard some of the stuff he said to you...’ Remy’s voice broke and he cleared his throat several times before he could continue. ‘I hated myself for not knowing, for not being more aware. I was going to talk to Dad about it, and to you, but then he had that heart attack the next day and it seemed pointless dredging it all up when you seemed so relieved.’
‘Best fucking day of my life.’
Sadly, it could never trounce the worst. The day I’d overheard my parents arguing, the day I’d learned why Dad hated me, the day Mum had been so upset she’d driven off in anger, swerved off the road and hit a tree, dying on impact.
Remy’s eyes glittered with realisation. ‘Did he ever hit you?’
I shook my head. ‘Not punches, just the good old-fashioned wooden spoon on my ass, but the rest was worse...’ Then it all came bubbling out, like a lanced boil, filled with putridity. ‘He grabbed me a few times, rattled the living daylights out of me while yelling the usual abusive crap. About how I looked like Mum and that was a constant reminder of how he’d made the worst decision of his life to marry her.’
My chest heaved with the effort of subduing sobs. ‘But he didn’t stop there. Because tolerating his crap and me asking what was behind his hatred was like uncorking a genie bottle; unfortunately for me, vitriol appeared and I sure as hell didn’t get any wishes.’
I wanted to tell Remy all of it but I couldn’t. If he looked shattered by my partial revelations, the rest would undo him completely and I couldn’t be responsible for that.
A derisive chuckle, devoid of amusement, exploded from my mouth. ‘When you were around, he behaved normally. When you weren’t, he heaped praise on you and acted like I didn’t exist. When he wasn’t accusing me for being as useless as Mum, that is. I pretended like the constant put-downs meant nothing. That I was impervious to whatever he said. But even now, I still think I’m not good enough. That people can see through me to the unworthiness beneath...’ I sounded broken, frail, and it mortified me.
I’d hidden everything from Remy, had not wanted to worry the brother I idolised. Remy had been my rock, the one constant in a crappy childhood. For him to now know how badly I was fucked up... I should’ve felt better, finally confessing, but it made everything one hundred times worse.
‘Fuck, I’m so sorry, I had no idea...’ Remy’s voice hitched and his face crumpled as he swiped a hand across his eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me—?’
‘Not worth both of us having a shit upbringing.’
My eyes burned but I’d be damned if I shed one tear over that old bastard. My brother staring at me like I’d stabbed him in the heart, that was another matter entirely. I wanted to blubber like a baby the longer he gawked at me with pity visible in his tear-filled eyes.
‘You really feel unworthy still?’
A question I didn’t want to answer because it sounded pathetic articulated out loud. At my core was that bitter young boy, filled with resentment and anger and hatred, but helpless to do anything about it.
When I didn’t respond, Remy slumped further, appearing to sink in on himself. ‘Shit, I’m so sorry, Tanner. But look how far you’ve come.’ Remy gestured at the door, his eyes glistening with tears I’d caused. Me. It tore me apart all over again. ‘Out there is an amazing woman who I’m pretty sure is head over heels for you and you’re walking away because—’
‘Because she’ll ultimately walk away from me. Her mother just offered Abby her own patisserie,’ I hissed through gritted teeth, the futility of all this washing over me like an icy wave. ‘Don’t you get it? I’ll never be good enough for someone like her.’
A lone tear trickled down Remy’s cheek. ‘You are the best—’
‘Thanks, bro, but it is what it is.’
I had to get out of here before I lost it completely. Or worse, Abby came back in.
‘Say bye to Abby for me.’
I didn’t wait around to hear Remy’s response as I bolted out the door.
Abby
I DABBED AT the moisture under my eyes with my pinkies, not wanting Remy and Tanner to interrogate me about the reason behind the tears when I re-entered the kitchen.
I couldn’t believe it. Mum making a grand gesture. Seeking forgiveness. Re-establishing contact without trying to direct my life. Despite blaming them for so much, I’d missed my family and after our last confrontation had given up all hope of ever being part of the Prendigasts. But if Mum had made an overture, I hoped Dad would follow and, eventually, we’d be a family again.
Not like before, with me afraid to voice an opinion or following their lead for everything, but in a mature way where we respected each other.
I could live in hope.
I paused at the kitchen door, breathed in and out a few times, before fixing a smile on my face and striding in. Only to find Remy slumped at a bench, head in hands, looking like he’d received devastating news.
Tanner was nowhere to be seen.
Foreboding strummed my spine as I approached him. ‘Hey, everything okay?’
When he raised his head and his agonised, bloodshot gaze met mine, I knew it wasn’t. In fact, something bad had happened in the few minutes I’d been out front, and I rubbed my bare arms against the sudden chill sweeping over me.
‘Where’s Tanner?’
He shook his head, his expression so morose I wanted to hug him. ‘Gone.’
‘Did you two fight?’
‘No.’ He swore, something he never did, and I pulled up a stool alongside him. ‘There’s no easy way to say this, but he’s not coming back.’
Confused,
