Page 52 of Merry & Bright

“Mum says that even when you were a kid, you never let her comfort you.” Eilidh let out a reluctant laugh. “Remember,‘aw-light okay’?”

Cam gave a rusty chuckle of his own at that reminder of one of their mother’s favourite anecdotes. Cam hadn’t been quite three but he’d been adventurous even then and his headlong plunge down a steep hill on a scooter had resulted in a spectacular tumble. She’d run to his side to pick him up, and he’d smiled at her, hands and knees and chin all scuffed and bleeding and said,“Aw-light okay, mummy!”

And he’d been saying it ever since. Through exams and through long hours of working. Through coming out and relationship break-ups and redundancy. And now through this.

I’m okay.

He’d always had this idea of himself as a strong person. Had always felt like he didn’t need help from anyone. Coping was an ingrained habit with him and he was always in control. Well, almost always. The one place he could let go—craved, sometimes, to let go—was in the bedroom, though even then, he found it hard to be frank about his preferences.

“Cam, listen,” Eilidh said now, her expression growing serious again. “For once in your life, let someone help you. We’re family—”

“I’m thirty-one,” he muttered. “I can handle my own problems.”

“I know you can, but the point is you don’t have to!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “Why would you struggle on your own when you don’thaveto?”

Cam opened his mouth to reply to that but no words came out. Instead, he ended up just staring at her, at a loss to answer such simple logic.

Eilidh sighed. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”

“No, I’m not,” he replied automatically, but he didn’t even sound convinced himself.

“Yes, you are. Like when you left Scott. He was lovely, and he adored you. I never understood why you didn’t try to fix things with him—but then you wouldn’t even tell me what happened, would you?”

Cam made an impatient huffing noise. It pissed him off no end when Eilidh went off on her Saint Scott crap. Their break-up had been horribly painful but Cam hadn’t wanted to share the cause of that pain with anyone. He hadn’t wanted to feel like a fool, hadn’t wanted to bepitied. But fine. If she wanted to know that badly—

“He was fucking someone else.”

The words came out hard and bitter and ugly. Worse, they carried a raw edge of emotion that shamed him, a shame that only intensified as he watched dismay, and yes, pity, steal over his sister’s face.

“Oh hell,” Eilidh said at last. “And I went to see him. He let me think he didn’t know why you’d left!”

Cam shrugged. “He was always pretty good at lying.”

Eilidh shook her head. “Well, I’m glad you finally told me,” she said quietly. “As for the money thing, just promise me this, all right? That you’ll sit down with Mum and Dad and talk through everything.”

“I don’t know—”

“Cam, youhaveto tell them. You know you do. You could do it at New Year—you’re coming to Glasgow, aren’t you?”

“I wasn’t actually planning on coming through again so soon.”

“Ah! But you haven’t seen your Christmas present yet!” Eilidh replied brightly. She turned in her seat and grabbed her bag, riffling through it till she finally plucked out an envelope and handed it to him with a flourish. “Merry Christmas!”

Cam slid his finger under the flap of the envelope, opening it up and drawing out the card inside: it was a ticket. To“Glasgow’s Wildest Hogmanay Party”at Gomorrah, an old haunt of his. This annual extravaganza was always a sell-out, months in advance.

Despite himself, Cam chuckled. “So you really did buy me a Christmas present.”

“Of course! I just forgot to bring it to Mum and Dad’s.” Eilidh grinned. “I bought three tickets actually. Me and Kitty are coming too, but don’t worry, you won’t be stuck with us all night. Mark’s lot are all going so there’ll be loads of people you know.”

Cam felt a weird pang in his chest—he hadn’t seen anyone from his old crowd in months and the thought of being around so many friendly faces again, of getting drunk and laughing and dancing, of havingfun—

God, he needed that so badly.

He swallowed hard. “This is—really great. You couldn’t have got me anything better, Ells.”

She smiled, her gaze warm and affectionate. “We’ll have a blast, hon. Then we can head over to Mum and Dad’s for New Year’s Day dinner. Mum’s doing a steak pie and trifle.”

“Like always,” Cam chuckled.