I throw on my running tank, grab my sneakers and bolt out of the room. I take the stairs down and avoid the lobby for obvious reasons.
The London streets blur past as I begin to get up to pace. I make my way to the edge of Hyde Park and remember how excited I was to see it a few days ago. I run along the path toward the next green space and follow a black gate until I am standing in front of Buckingham Palace. Even though it’s evening the area is still crowded with tourists. I think back to how Brady rested his head on my shoulder in the car, but before I can let the memory infiltrate my thoughts, I pick up speed and run faster.
But I can’t outrun the truth that maybe I’ve been just as dismissive as his family, just as unforgiving. Snapping at him and not listening to his explanation. Shutting down and not letting him in. Blaming him. Rubbing his face in his mistakes. What would I have said if he told me the truth? He’s right; I would have flat out refused, even needing the money as bad as I did. I’d be stuck in Alabama either working around the clock or delaying medical school for another year, letting my pride impede my progress. But I’m not going to be manipulated again and let history repeat itself.
Though maybe it isn’t repeating. Maybe he’s not the same person he was, or maybe I’m not the same person. He should have told me from the start that we needed to pretend to be a couple, but at least he’s admitting that he fucked up. He’s willing to sacrifice all of it and send me home if that’s what I want. Is that a part of Brady that wasn’t there before or a part that I didn’t see because of my own myopia?
Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s not a big deal. It’s simply a job requirement, like wearing the coveralls with my name on it at the garage. How hard would it be to fake being a couple with Brady for the rest of the trip? The question runs through my mind as my feet pound the pavement along the Thames.
Chapter 15
London
Brady
I lean against the mirrored wall of the elevator and try to catch my breath. Why does he always treat me like the frog in his high school biology class, poking and prodding until he figures out what he wants to know? He wanted the real reason I needed this job. Fine. I’m here to escape law school and the family firm. That’s the reason I called him weeks ago to join me here.
But what I can’t tell him is that that at Trafalgar Square after he told me that the person I should start pleasing is myself and that I’d make an awesome kindergarten teacher, something changed. I realized the only time I ever felt like I could do something on my own was when he was in my corner. All the feelings I thought I had thrown into the ocean never to be seen again are suddenly floating back to shore and there’s nothing I can do about it. The reality of it makes my chest tighten.
I step out of the elevator and wave air over my face with both hands. I dodge the lobby to avoid coming face to face with the poster again and find a secluded corner. I need to hear at least one friendly voice before I meet Aisha. My sister picks up on the second ring.
“Well, if it isn’t the darling of social media himself.”
“Hey, Claire.” My voice cracks on her name.
I hear her cover the phone, then muffled words to someone about an urgent call. This is why I love my sister. She could be in the middle of taking over a company the size of the small country, but she will always make time for whatever disaster her baby brother is in the middle of.
“Okay, what’s wrong? And don’t make me pry it out of you it.” Claire always gets right to it.
“I need to head to a meeting but wanted to see how Gemma is,” I deflect, needing a moment of normal.
“She made me create a countdown calendar for when she sees Uncle Brady again. Now stop stalling. What happened?”
“How do you do it?” The words tumble out. “How do you manage being a Gibson? Because it’s crushing me, Claire.”
“Oh, baby.” Her voice shifts to that soft mom-tone she’s perfected with Gemma. “What happened?”
I tell her everything, including the devasted look on Hayes’ face when he realized what I’d done. And how he attacked my family background. She listens without saying a word.
“What he said wasn’t great,” she finally says. “But you lied to him.”
“Misled,” I correct weakly.
“No, Brady. You lied. And not just about this social media nonsense. You lied about still having feelings for him.”
A gasp escapes, part of me still trying to keep up the charade. “Claire, I do not have feelings for him. Absolutely not.”
“Really? You’re going to keep lying to yourself and to me now too?” The corporate shark circles the waters.
I believed my answer to this question when I asked myself before we left. I thought I had put an end to all that. But after this week with him in London, even my incredible ability to live in denial is being tested.
“Brady, you’re my favorite little brother—”
“Your only little brother,” I add, grateful she’s not pushing me too hard, because I might collapse in a puddle of despair and confusion.
“—and I love you, but you need to stop this. Stop being what everyone else wants. Stop being so afraid of disappointing the people who love you that you don’t know who you are or what you want.” I let the words sink in and remain silent. “Maybe it’s time to stop being what you think everyone else wants you to be and just be who you are. That’s the brother I love. The uncle Gemma adores.”
“Thanks, Claire,” I croak. I tell her to kiss Gemma for me then head off to face the gauntlet. But before I do, I take a few minutes in a quiet corner of the lobby to gather my thoughts and catch my breath. I’m focusing on creating a longer exhale when hits me. Claire and Hayes, share the same opinion about me. Can they see me better than I see myself? Of course, I’m aware I’m using this to avoid the real question regarding how I feel about Hayes. I sense my power to live in denial returning.
