Twinning

"I think I should probably go," Austin whispers into my ear.

"Yeah, you probably should," I give him a hesitant laugh and he creeps off into the night, giving my hand one last squeeze before he lets go.

I turn my attention to my drunk Dad, drink is spilled down the front of his white shirt and his jacket has been thrown into the mud of our front garden, "What are you doing here? I won't ask again."

"Was that your boyfriend? I thought he had dark hair, but then again, maybe it's a new one, moving on quickly, like Mother like daughter at the end of the day."

He's usually got such a pretty smile, one that could charm anyone and everyone but tonight it looks slimy and deceiving and his eyes look hollow, like my Dad isn't even there anymore.

"Dad, answer me, what the hell are you doing here?"

"You're meant to respect your parents, young lady," He's waving his hand about, still desperately trying to remain balanced, "I thought we raised you better than that."

"Where's Sydney – if that is even her name?"

He mutters something under his breath.

"Where is she?"

"She's fucked off, hasn't she? I told her that I didn't want to marry her and she left, she just packed up and left."

"You told her what?"

"I told her I wasn't ready," He gives up on pacing and wanders over to the wall to rest his head. Yes, you heard that right, he's led on the wall of our driveway at midnight. A middle aged man.

"I just felt suffocated by her, your Mum was never like that. I really fucked up things with your mother." If I'm not mistaken, a tear is streaming down the side of his cheek.

"Come on," I say whilst running over and desperately trying to pull him to his feet, "I don't want to have this conversation out here, I've got the back door key, come this way."

"I know where the back door is, I lived here for twenty years." He's tutting whilst he rolls off the side of the wall, dusts himself off and stumbles down the side of the house.

It takes a while to try and guide him through the gate and into the back garden, trying to stop him flopping onto the trampoline as we pass. Once we're inside, I take him through the kitchen and into the living room and lie him down on one of the sofas. I am pretty much sober now and I just want to go to bed.

He sits up almost immediately and starts wailing, almost definitely waking up the rest of the house, "I just can't believe I would be so stupid to leave my perfect family," Grabbing my chin, he starts to cry out all the vodka he's drank, "I miss you all so much, Carlie, I want to come home."

"You're drunk," I say, not letting the words I've been wanting to hear for years give me the glee I've been needing, "I think we should talk about it in the morning."

"I want to speak to your mother, she'd understand, she'd take me back, I saw the way she looked at me on the sofa the other day. That was a look of love."

"That wasn't a look of love, Dad, she's moved on. I think you should too."

"It was the look; I know you wouldn't know, it's a grown-up look." He sighs, seemingly unaware that he's just shattered my entire being. How dare he say I haven't been in love. If I haven't loved, why is it fair that my heart should be broken and twisted by the one person I've trusted more than anyone for years.

"Dad," I say, through gritted teeth, trying to fight the lump growing in the back of my throat, "I understand, believe me, but we've fixed ourselves. You broke us when you left, you left a Mother with two young children and you twisted them until they cracked. But we got through it, it was so bloody hard, but we managed it. Mum has been a hero, she's done everything in her power to help us through this so don't you fucking dare try and push your way back into our lives. We can't get through you leaving again, we just don't have the strength to tape up the shattered pieces. If you really loved us, you wouldn't have left in the first place. Better yet, it wouldn't have taken you nine years to come back."

I'm crying so hard that I don't hear the footsteps coming down the stairs and so when a pair of hairy arms encompass me and support me as I fall to the ground, it's a welcome surprise.

"What the hell have you said to her?" If he's angry he's trying not to show it, he's speaking in a hushed tone and he's still sat beside me, wiping the tears from my cheek.

"Luke, you know that I was good for your mother, don't you?" Dad's smiling and even Luke is grossed out by the stained teeth, "Carlie seems to have forgotten how good of a family we were."

"We were good, Dad."

"Thank you!" Dad's waving his arms around as though he's won.

"But we wouldn't be good again."

"How do you know that?"

"You might have gone off and found that no other woman can compare to Mum, and you would be correct in thinking that, but she's moved on. She's happy, Dad."

"But I'm good for her, I was for twenty years."

"Dad," I interject, "I lived through eight of them, neither of you were happy."

"You were a child, how could you know what a good marriage looked like?"

"If that is what a good marriage is, I don't ever want to get married," I say warranting a helpless laugh from Luke and a grimace from Dad.

"Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"What would you say to Mum? What would you say to try and win her back?"

"I would tell her that I still loved her."

"You think that would work, do you?" Luke's brow is wrinkled; he's not trying to upset our Dad but there's a clear objective of this question, he looks determined.

"Yes, I do think so."

"Sometimes love isn't enough." I think aloud, the image of that last kiss spinning around my head so fast it's making me so sick.

"What would you know," Dad says, mockingly.

"Sometimes love can't win. Sometimes someone needs to know how to love themselves before they can love another. If love was enough, people would never break-up. Dad, if love was enough you would never have left Mum in the first place." As soon as the final word leaves my mouth, Luke has his arms squeezed so tight around me I could burst.

"I know, but I've realised the error of my ways. I want her back and I'm going to get her back," His determination is almost admirable but I care too much about them both to let this happen. They argue so much that it's too difficult to see them working.

"Dad, I love you, but I love Mum as well and, if you ever broke her heart again, she'd fall apart."

"I disagree," He smiles and suddenly his eyes are alit and he's jumping to his feet, "Amelia!"

Mum's stood in the doorway, leant against the wall wrapped in a dressing gown with her arms crossed.

"Looks like somebody has been drinking," She says, with her straight accountant face on.

"I might have just had a few, can we have a chat, it won't take long?" He's got a hopeful twinkle in his eye and it seems Mum might even be falling for it.

"Kids, I'll deal with him, you should probably get some sleep." She's not even looking at us. There's an energy between them that I've never seen before and neither want to break the eye contact between them.

Luke and I rush from the room, desperately trying not to think about the possibility of them getting back together. When we reach my room, Luke doesn't leave, he follows me in and closes the door softly behind him.

"When did it happen?" He asks, grabbing a pillow from my bed and making himself cosy on the chair in the corner, "And do I need to act all big brother on him?"

"How do you know?"

"Are you kidding me?" He throws his head back with laughter, "The one person I know who has watched every rom-com on the planet and genuinely believes in a fairy-tale told me that love isn't enough today. He's broken you. I never thought that could happen."

"I guess when you give every part of you to somebody, it gives them the chance to break every part of you."

"Very artistic of you," He curls further into the chair, pulling the blanket off of the back and snuggling into it, "Did he cheat?"

"He says not, I'm still not completely convinced."

"Of course you're not, I bet he's told you a million times that he hasn't but you'll never believe it. What was it then? He's too good of a man to not have a reason?"

"He's got some personal issues to sort out."

"I get it now."

"What?"

"You don't want Mum and Dad to get back together because you're not afraid that it won't work, you're afraid that it will."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're afraid that if a couple that argues and fights and acts like they couldn't give a shit half the time is able to be happy again, you're afraid that it will ruin your little love equation."

"No, I'm not," I lie.

"Yes, yes you are. You're scared that if a relationship like Mum and Dad can work but your perfect little one with Jacobo can't that you've been doing it wrong this whole time. And you don't want to have a relationship like Mum and Dad."

"You're making no sense."

"I can see it in your eyes."

"Impossible, I can't even see you without the main light on."

"Well, it's a twin sense then."

"You seem to get those a lot more than I do."

"Cause I'm a God and you're a mere peasant," He hauls a pillow at me, though it misses and lands on the floor beside my bed.

"Does Mum know that you've quit the team yet?"

"What?" His voice has gone high and screechy, "How do you know?"

"Twin senses."

"She doesn't know, and I would really appreciate it if nobody told her."

"Why did you quit? And why the hell are you hanging around with them instead?"

"I got kicked off of the team because I punched a teammate… Before you start, he had come onto the girl I am seeing and bragged about it at practise. I hang around with them because they're nice people who have been brandished with a bad name."

"I'm sure they are; I guess the girl you are seeing is part of the group."

"She is, but she doesn't do the stuff they do, don't worry. We're the clean ones of the group, drink only."

"Good, I hope to meet her one day."

"You can count on it."