Page 87 of Tears of Glass

I shake my head. “No.” I stare wild eyed at Eli. Come on, this is your thing, you step up, smooth things, make it all better. You smile and the world is fixed... he’s hugging Tabitha, kissing her hair, whispering, and tears well up in my own eyes. How many tears am I going to shed today because it feels like they are never going to stop until I’m drowned and drawing my last breath.

“I am so sorry, Lewis.” He shrugs, but beneath the movement there’s a small little boy who aches and burns. “Why didn’t you call us?”

Lewis’ eyes fall on Eli. “I’ve got to step up, be a man.”

I shake my head. “No. Not always. We would have been there.” The emphasis on we isn’t lost; it echoes in my head.

Lewis shoves his fingers in the pocket of his jeans, but not before I catch them shaking. “It’s probably for the best. I mean, she’s eighteen; we don’t even know each other.”

Tabitha sobs harder.

“Hey.” I grab for Lewis’ arm.

“What, Faith? Are you going to tell me it will all be okay, and that young love will conquer all, or some other bullshit?”

I shake my head, reeling from his harsh words. “You’re singing from the wrong hymn sheet, Lewis. I don’t believe in young love, or any love for that matter. I believe in pain, and hurt, and darkness that shakes me until I no longer want to exist.” I can sense Eli’s gaze burning on me. “And I know terrible shit happens, all the damn time. Every damn moment of every day someone is hurting. Sometimes it’s me. Sometimes it’s you.”

Lewis holds his breath and I wait for him to explode. I know his fuse is short. But he doesn’t. He cries, rolling droplets of misery running down his face and I step up and hold him, cradling the angry man in my arms. Eli meets my gaze and we stare at one another.

“You know what?” I push Lewis away, so I can meet his red eyes. “I’m sorry. Sorry this keeps happening to you, sorry you keep losing things you love. But you and Tabs, you should celebrate the rest of forever today. I’ve seen you, those looks, the connection. I know nothing about love, but I can still see it. So, I think Eli should cook us all a bloody delicious dinner, and we should all get fucking drunk and give life two fingers.”

Lewis smiles, his body relaxing. He steps up and untangles Tabitha from Eli’s hold although the big brother doesn’t look like he’s willing to let her go.

Lewis holds her, raining kisses on her damp skin. “I never want to see you hurt again,” he whispers into her hair and my heart swells with pride and love. Eli watches me. He’s said those words to me.

Maybe. Just maybe, us four messed up souls can save one another.

I walk to the kitchen and root about for some form of alcohol, anything that will go down the hatch and help the ache.

When we all have a glass of Vermouth, undiluted, and Elijah is peering into the glass with a worried expression I call them to face me. “To love.”

And we all shout ‘cheers’ and knock it back. Then Eli goes into the kitchen and Lewis and I wrap Tabitha—who is still sporadically sobbing—up in a blanket on the couch and I make sure the alcohol keeps flowing for this new family of mine.

Family.

In the back of my mind I think of Dan and I wish I could envelope him in the moment, but he’s too far away, further than thirty-five miles of A roads.

I’m in Tesco, buying four bottles of wine, when my phone rings. I answer without thinking.

“Faith Hitchin?”

“Yes.” I frown at the selection of red’s, wondering if red even goes with roast chicken.

“This is Terry Dean from The Sun newspaper.”

I nearly drop a bottle.

“Yes. Why are you ringing?”

“We’ve had a story about you and Elijah Fairclough. Can you confirm you are his mistress?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Can you confirm you are Elijah Fairclough’s mistress? How will you feel when he walks Sienna Richards down the aisle?”

“He’s not getting married.”

There’s a pause where I can faintly hear the scratch of a pen against paper. “So it’s something you are worried about?”