2: 2
Amelia caught up with me right at the entrance to the parking lot.
Her hand clamped around my wrist, harder than I expected.
"Brad! What is this supposed to mean?"
Her voice was low, edged with irritation.
"You walk out of Duncan's engagement party with a face like that, in front of all those people. Where does that leave his pride?"
I looked up at her.
The neon light spilled from behind her, and the face I'd known for eight years was there with the brows knotted tight, the lips pressed thin.
"Amelia, in all these years, what's the most expensive thing you've ever given me?"
She hesitated.
"That belt. Two thousand three. You grabbed it at the mall on my birthday, and you told me these things just need to show the thought, no need to spend too much."
"But Duncan's tie, you flew all the way to Europe for it. His watch, his cufflinks, his tie pin, how much did all of that come to?"
My voice stayed level. "And tonight's drone show, the yacht, that five-million-dollar watch on your wrist. Amelia, explain something to me. What exactly does 'just need to show the thought' mean?"
The crease between her brows dug in deeper. "Why are you comparing yourself to Duncan? He's my brother in all but blood—"
"Brother," I laughed once. "You give your brother a five-million-dollar drone show, and you have me hand over a five-dollar gift."
Her expression changed.
"Brad, don't stand here making a scene. I already explained the thing with your friend to you—"
"Explained what?" I cut her off.
"Every single thing you explained was just you making excuses for yourself."
She went quiet for a few seconds, her face sinking bit by bit.
At last she pulled a bank card from her pocket and flung it at me.
The edge grazed my cheekbone, sharp and stinging.
"Isn't it that you think the money's too little?" Her voice turned cold.
"Take this card. Make it up to your friend, buy whatever else you want. Is it enough? If it's not, I have more."
I looked down at the card lying on the ground and found it almost funny.
Even now she still thought this was about money.
Eight years, and she had never once truly understood what had hurt me.
That was when her phone rang.
Amelia glanced at the screen, her brow easing a little, and picked up.
"Duncan? I'm coming back now... you all keep drinking... don't worry about him..."
She hung up, had already turned and taken two steps, then paused and looked back over her shoulder.
"Cool off and get yourself together. Stop making trouble out here."
Her footsteps faded.
I crouched down and picked the card up.
Turned it over.
On the back, four words in marker: "For Duncan Only."
So it turned out that even the thing I could only reach by fighting for it had his name on it all along.
I gripped the card in my palm, nails biting into the skin, a small ache.
In the end I dropped it into the trash can beside me.
