Page 98 of Lean On Me


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‘I don’t care.’

He scooped me up and carried me into the living room, gently laying me on the sofa before kneeling down on the floor beside me. ‘I’m going to take care of you. No arguments.’

He started by running me a bath, then made cheese on toast, served with scalding-hot tea, with a spoonful of honey and lemon stirred in. He stuck on a film and rubbed my now-clean feet while we laughed and groaned through to the happy ending. At some point during the second film, I must have fallen asleep, waking in the early hours to find a flask of tea on the coffee table beside my favourite cup, a packet of flu medication, and a plate of cookies.

I sipped my tea in the glow of the street light, squinting to read the get well note he’d tucked underneath the cup. It tasted of horrible guilt, and foolishness. I loved Perry. But I so wanted to be in love with him. Not with my whole heart. Not so much I needed him. But enough to make him – and me – happy. Enough to be the kind of wife he deserved. I was sick of pretending. Of feeling ashamed of who I was and what I felt. I thought about Marilyn’s advice at my hen do, about being honest and letting him know me. I had started to realise marrying Perry would be all or nothing. If I couldn’t give it my all, commit myself fully from the start, I owed him the courage to walk away.

As much as I hated to admit it, as the dawn light began to peek through my curtains, I accepted Dylan had been right. I would tell Perry. Everything. Okay – I would at least get started, and take it from there.

I tried to reinforce my decision with a marathon run of Hollywood Happy Endings. Faith’s Final Fling had killed off my brief, ridiculous mental fling with Dylan. There had been no sign of Kane for weeks now, backing up Gwynne’s belief that my subconscious had been playing tricks on me. Sam was on the mend again, April seemed to want to stick it out, and I wasmanaging to control my need for control. I had stood up to Larissa, and got at least something of the wedding I wanted.

If I cried a few times, that was understandable. These types of films were supposed to be tear-jerkers. Add in illness, tiredness and anxiety about missing work and it was basically inevitable. For the first time in forever, someone had taken care of me, and done it with unexpected tenderness. If I got through a couple of boxes of tissues, no biggie.

Once recovered, I spent the next couple of weeks sticking to my new resolve. I avoided Dylan, which didn’t prove difficult as he appeared to be avoiding me; signed up with a professional driving instructor (a woman); and started to get properly involved with my own wedding plans, rather than focusing all my spare time and energy on the Grand Grace Gala, due to be held at the end of the month. Perry was away again, but we spoke every couple of days on the phone. I spent a long time thinking about what I needed to tell him, and how I would do it once he returned.

I took April to see Sam. My heart leaped when I saw him. Clear eyes, glowing skin, glossy hair swinging below his chin. If my heart leaped, April’s must have taken off and done a lap of the visitor’s room. I felt tempted to push her jaw back up.

We chatted for a while about what he’d been up to, the people he’d met, the food, his painting. April mentioned the wedding first. I carefully monitored his reaction, before bringing up the main reason for my visit, and for bringing reinforcements along.

‘Is it all going okay, then? Not too stressful?’ Sam asked.

‘No. It’s fine. Rosa’s making the most incredible dresses for the bridesmaids. They’re genuine works of art. You’d love them.’

‘You know I’m going to be there, don’t you?’

I nodded. ‘It would mean the world to me if you were there. But if it doesn’t work out, you know I understand.’

He shook his head. ‘I’ll be there. I promise. August fifteenth. It’s on my wall calendar. I know a promise from an addict means squat, but this is different.’

No, it wasn’t different. But if he could stay in treatment a while longer, I could begin to allow myself to feel optimistic.

‘Well, I hope so. I have a job for you to do.’

His mouth flicked up in a tight smile. ‘I’m not making a speech.’

‘No! We can do without a brother of the bride speech. I want you to give me away.’

Silence settled on the table between us. We both knew the significance of the request. After a moment had passed, I glanced at April beside me. She took hold of his hand.

‘You want me to give you away?’

We both knew what he really meant.

You want me to give you up.

‘Yes.’ A tear plopped onto the vinyl tablecloth. ‘A new start, for all of us.’

His eyes met mine, the conflict of emotions swirling in the soft brown.

‘I’m not asking you to stop being my brother. You know how much I love you. I’m asking if we can try to find a better balance. I’ll be here when you need me, but April and Perry are here now too.’

He took in a deep breath, his knuckles turning white where they held on to April.

‘Are you sure about him?’ Sam asked.

I let out a choked laugh. ‘Why do people keep asking me that? We’re engaged, aren’t we?’

Sam shook his head sharply. ‘I’m not people.’