Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
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CALUM
I pour hot water from the kettle into my World’s Best Manager mug, watching the mini torrent mix with the instant coffee granules at the bottom.
Adding a dash of milk, I give it a good stir before dropping the teaspoon in the kitchen sink.
A tiny burst of pleasure radiates inside me as I raise the steaming mug, inhaling the cheap but satisfying aroma before taking my first sip.
I suspect this is exactly the scenario Johnny had in mind when he bought me this mug.
When he wrapped it so neatly and came to my home to personally place it beneath my Christmas tree.
It’s weird to think a novelty mug now counts as one of my prized possessions, but it’s the only physical evidence I have of the feelings we share. It matters.
My toast pops and I finish making breakfast before settling on a stool at the counter to eat while I plan the week ahead.
Flipping open the cover of my planner, I go through my upcoming schedule.
The Autumn Skies Music Festival is fast approaching.
Fifth Circle will be performing in the amphitheatre this year.
Mid-afternoon on the second day. It’s a modest spot—the evening slots being saved for headliners like Dante Sinclair—but it’s a decent step up from last year.
Even Genevieve seemed pleased with the placement.
Arthur, on the other hand, looked furious when he found out.
I know he hates the attention Fifth Circle is getting after he previously declared them unworthy of his time.
It doesn’t matter that they had a new singer by the time I found them, or that they’d had another two years to develop their sound.
All he sees is a band he’d dismissed is now breaking out, and under my guidance instead of his.
If we didn’t get along before, I’m pretty sure he hates me now.
The door to Hannah’s bedroom creaks open and I look up to wish her a good morning.
Stopping at the end of the hallway, all messy hair and rumpled pyjamas, she glares in my direction.
My eyebrows lift in question. It’s too early for me to have done anything to piss her off, and she was fine when I left for work yesterday morning.
By the time I got home last night, she’d already left for a date with Oz.
I open my mouth to ask what’s wrong when Oz steps into view behind her. His hair and clothes are also rumpled. But where Hannah is still glaring daggers at me, Oz is sunshine incarnate.
Without a word, Hannah leads him through the living space towards the front door.
“Good morning,” I say, my gaze darting between his smile and her glower.
Oz nods in greeting. “’Morning, Calum.”
I keep my back to them as they say goodbye, pretending not to hear their low murmurings or the quiet sounds of a final kiss.
The front door closes and Hannah enters the kitchen, head high and shoulders stiff, despite the fiery red colour of her cheeks.
I fight a grin as she goes about her normal routine of pouring cereal and making tea.
Eventually, she sneaks a peek in my direction.
Holding her gaze, I take a leisurely sip of coffee.
“Will you please say it and get it over with?” she snaps, gesturing with her spoon as if threatening to gut me.
I clear my throat. “Were you safe?”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course.”
“Do you want to talk about anything?”
The “No” comes through gritted teeth.
“Was he good to you?”
Her gaze drops and her lips roll in but, when she nods, I can tell she’s fighting a smile.
“Okay.”
She continues to stare at me as I pick up my pen and go back to my schedule. “That’s it?”
“What else is there?” I ask. “You’re both consenting adults. You’re dating. What’s the problem?”
Her mouth opens, and then closes. “Exactly.”
A smirk makes its way onto my face. “Exactly.”
The awkwardness lingers as we both eat, but we’ll get over it with time. This was always going to happen sooner or later. Honestly, I’m only glad it didn’t happen sooner. There are upsides to my sister’s disdain for social interaction.
I’m halfway through washing my dishes when she comes to stand beside me with her empty bowl and spoon. “What about you and Johnny?” she asks in a deceptively innocent tone.
I take her dishes and run the soapy sponge over them. “What about us?”
“You’re consenting adults. You’re dating.” She grabs a tea towel and starts drying. “What’s the problem?”
“We’re not dating. We’re hanging out, enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more.”
“Yeah, right, except every time I’m in a room with the two of you I can barely breathe for the pheromones.”
Sighing, I turn away from the now empty sink, snagging the end of her tea towel to dry my hands. “He’s my client. We can’t be… involved.”
She yanks the damp towel from my grasp. “That’s stupid.”
“Keeping my job is stupid, is it?” I ask, lifting my eyebrows at her.
With a tutting sound, she dumps the last spoon in the cutlery drawer and hangs the tea towel on the oven door rail. “There must be exceptions to the rule. It’s not like you’re banging every client you come across.”
“There are no exceptions. Trust me, that was made exceedingly clear when I was hired.” I let out an exasperated laugh. “It’s a good thing. They have rules where rules should be.” Even if I’ve realised the reasoning behind the rules is less about ethics and more about preventing litigation.
“But you and Johnny are in love. Surely that’s more important than any job.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Rounding the counter, I gather my work things and shove them into my bag.
“One, Johnny is not in love with me. And two, taking care of you and me will always be the most important thing I do. My job is a roof over our heads, food on our table, and money in the bank.” She never knew how close we once were to the edge, because I did my best to hide it from her, but I will never forget.
“It’s you and me against the world. Remember? ”
Her eyes cloud over, and she bites down on her bottom lip. “What if I don’t want it to be you and me against the world anymore?”
The words slam into my chest and I drop onto the stool behind me. “What?”
“It’s been brought to my attention recently,” she says in a small voice, hands fisted at her sides, “having other people around us can be… kind of nice. I think maybe I would like that to continue.”
A breathy laugh rushes out of me as my body sags. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for years.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she grumbles. “It’s not like you’ve spent the last six years surrounded by friends, either.”
She’s not wrong. The friendships I’d thought were so strong in high school fell away pretty quickly after I turned eighteen.
While all my old friends were hitting the pubs and starting university, I was working three jobs to support me and my kid sister.
It wasn’t until I landed my internship at Rush that I finally started to catch my breath.
Even now, the few friendships I do have are through work.
“You know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me,” Hannah says, coming to perch on the stool beside me. “But things will be changing soon. I’ll finish my degree at the end of the year. I’ll finally be able to get a full-time job and contribute more.”
I’m already shaking my head. “There’s no rush, Hannah. I can cover the bills, and I’d prefer you save for your future.”
Storm clouds roll back over her face. “I’d prefer to start taking care of myself, so you don’t have to do it for me. I am done holding you back.”
I frown at her. “You’ve never done anything to hold me back.
” She gives me an incredulous look, and I roll my eyes.
“Okay, yes, life turned out differently to what I thought it would, but that was never on you.” What happened to us was a selfish act that shredded everything we believed about love and family.
It left us with nothing to cling to but each other.
Is it any wonder we’re still clinging? “The truth is, I don’t know what I would have done without you. ”
“To take care of,” she insists in a hard voice. “You don’t know what you would have done without me to take care of.”
She was just a kid when we found ourselves all alone in the world.
I was the closest thing we had to an ‘adult’.
Of course, I took care of her. “That’s the thing you’ve never understood, Han.
You gave me a reason to focus and get shit done.
I probably would have gone off the rails, otherwise.
Everything I did for you, I was doing for me, too.
” She might only see how much she needed me, but I needed her just as much. “You were all I had.”
“That’s my point,” she cries. “I don’t want to be all you have. You deserve more, and so do I.”
Dread gathers into a tight ball and lodges itself in my gut. “What are you saying? Do you want to move out?”
“No,” she says with a groan, “don’t be melodramatic.”
“Then what?” I snap.
Her mouth presses into a hard line as she takes a deep breath. “You’re my big brother, Cal, and I’ll always need you.” There’s a pause before she spits the rest out. “But I want you to stop using me as an excuse to push people away.”
Frowning, I sit up straighter. “I do not.”
“Do, too.”
My next denial is cut off when she raises her hand between us. “Does Johnny even know why this shit is so hard for us?” she demands. “Did you tell him about Mum and Dad?”
I flinch at the titles. I’d stopped thinking about them that way years ago.
“Why would I? Johnny’s not interested in having a real relationship with me,” I tell her, though it hurts to admit it. “He made that clear from the start.”
“Maybe it was true then, but it’s been almost a year and he’s still trailing after you like a lovesick puppy. You’re the one for him, Cal. Like he is for you.” I shake my head, and she growls in frustration. “Have you told him you want to give it a shot?”
“What I want doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” she snaps, her eyes bright. “You’ve been putting yourself last for years, working your arse off to make sure we’re okay. But we are now… we’re okay.” She throws her arms wide, as if gesturing to our small apartment. “It’s time to stop living in survival mode.”
I glance around. This place might not be spacious, or new, but it is a home. We have everything we need to live a comfortable life. My bank account has a reasonable amount of padding in case of emergencies. Hannah is right, we are okay—right now. But is it enough?
“We could lose it all, Han.” My voice is barely above a whisper. Rough to the point of breaking. “In an instant, we could have to start all over again.”
“That’s never going to stop being true,” she says with a slow nod. “It’s true for everyone. At least we’d be sharing the load this time. Besides, we’re tough. Emotionally stunted at times,” she adds with dramatic flair. “But you and me? We can come back from anything.”
I snort a laugh. “Bloody oath, we can.”
“Which means…” she drawls, “maybe it’s time we both put our childhood trauma aside and take some risks.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I give her a half-smile. “Does this mean you’ll start writing music again?”
She scoffs. “Let’s not get too crazy.” At the same time, her cheeks flush and there’s a secret sparkle in her eyes.
That in itself is worth the churning in my stomach when I leave a few minutes later.
I never would have said she was wrong to want more.
The kinds of risks she’s been taking lately are good for her.
Meeting new people, singing with Johnny, dating Oz.
Those risks are making her world bigger and richer.
But I’m not sure her suggestion applies to me so easily.
I don’t even know what living outside of survival mode looks like. Taking risks and hoping for the best? It feels closer to self-sabotage than enrichment. Even if I did find the courage to try, would Johnny ever want the same thing?