Page 10 of Pretty Mess

“I told you not to say that.” I turn to him again. His face is sheet white, with black circles under his eyes. I take a breath. “Sorry means nothing in this situation. Sorry is for hurting someone’s feelings or forgetting a birthday. It is not for losing our home and draining my bank account.” My chill becomes hot anger. “What the hell, Tyler? You don’t gamble. Not apart from the odd flutter on the Grand National. What’s going on?”

He shakes his head. “I know. I still can’t work out how I got here.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “Start at the beginning.”

“Someone at work gave me the name of a horse six months ago. Ginger Biscuit. Said he was a sure thing. Everyone was having a flutter, so I thought, why not? And I won, Wes. I wonbig.”

“How big?”

“Twenty grand.”

“What thehell?” I breathe. “You never said one word. Not one fucking word.”

“I know.” He shifts on the bench, leaning forward, his eyes taking on a strange light. “The thing is, I thought it was a sign. I could buy a bigger house for Cath and have enough money for kids. You know we’ve been thinking about starting a family.” He sighs, the temporary energy fading away. “I just wanted more than Mum had, you know?”

“Yes, I do.” Silence falls, and I stir. “And so, what happened?”

“I thought if I put a bet on something else, I could make more money.”

“Oh, Tyler.” I scrub my hands over my eyes. “And?”

He licks his lips. “I lost that and then more and more, and before I knew it, it was all gone, and I owed money.”

I contemplate strangling him. “So, you bet the house?”

“Not immediately,” he says at once. “But I got into bad shit with a group of men, and I just needed one big score and then everything would be okay.”

“Andthenyou bet the house?” I continue remorselessly.

He sinks back. “Yes,” he whispers.

“And my bank account.” I can’t help the rage in my voice. “I know the house wasn’t mine, but…”

“You know Mum would have wanted you to have your share.”

“Her will never said anything about me.” She’d died, and we’d found that she’d left the house to Tyler before I was born. She’d never made another will.

“But I always thought of it as half yours. You know that.”

“Well, now I have half of nothing.” He flinches again. “No, worse than that. My bank account, Tyler. Fucking hell. There’s nothing left.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. I wrote your card number down as an emergency.”

“And I take it there was one. For you.”

“They threatened to break my legs.”

“I make no promises about not doing that myself. You tookeverything. How am I going to pay my university fees now?”

Sick fear fills me. I couldn’t believe it this morning when I checked my balance. I thought I’d accidentally got onto someone else’s account for a moment. There’s nothing left. My savings from the part-time job I had throughout uni have gone, along with the money I’d put away from my old grant. I’d gone without so many things in order to save. My friends all went out, spending money on booze and parties, but I didn’t because I had a dream of a job where I wouldn’t have to live like I did as a child.

“You know I’ve signed on to take my master’s. I have to pay those fees in September, or I’ll lose my place. Not to mention, where am I going to live? My job finished a few weeks ago, so I have no income, nowhere to live, and no money.”

“I’ll get the money back,” he says, urgently trying to take my hand.

I pull away sharply, cursing the fact that I still want to comfort him. “How? By gambling some more?”

He subsides and rubs his face. When he drops his hands, his eyes look red and raw. He starts to say something and then stops.