“Who are you?” she said.
Miles opened his mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say.
She frowned, looking at him with something like suspicion. Of course she would be suspicious: she’d just found some stranger in her nephew’s room, a stranger who probably looked like a right mess.
“I’m Miles,” Miles managed at last, getting to his feet. “I was just keeping Liam company while his nanny is out.”
Amanda shifted her gaze to Liam. Something pained flickered across her face. “Thank you for looking after Liam. But it won’t be necessary anymore. Liam will live with me and my mother from now on.”
Miles’s heart skipped a beat.
“Why?” he said. “What do you mean?”
“My brother is in a coma, Miles,” she said, her voice so toneless it was unnatural. “We can hardly leave my only nephew alone in this huge house. He needs family. It’s—” Her voice finally wavered. “It’s a temporary solution, obviously. Until my brother wakes up.” Despite her words, her trembling chin betrayed her. She didn’t really believe what she was saying.
Miles had to turn away to hide his own emotions. He stared out the window at the cloudless sky outside. It was such a sunny day. “Is it that bad?”
Amanda was silent.
“It is,” she said at last, her tone exhausted. Defeated. “The doctors say that at this point it will be a miracle if Ian wakes up. We’ll keep him on life-support for as long as there’s any brain activity, but…”
Miles had to bite his bottom lip hard to stop any noise from leaving his throat.
“Can I see him? Please.”
He didn’t need to turn around to know that she was stunned by his request.
“Why?” she said, sounding utterly confused. “He’s in intensive care. Why should I allow some stranger into my brother’s—”
“I love him.”
He’d never thought he’d say those words to Ian’s sister and not to him.
“What?” she said faintly.
“We were—are—together.”
Silence.
“You’re lying,” Amanda bit off at last. “My brother isn’t—he isn’t a faggot!”
Miles flinched at the word. It was probably to be expected that after being publicly dumped by a gay man, Amanda would be less than open-minded about gay people in general. While it was irrational, hurt was rarely rational.
“I’m not lying,” he said, turning around to look at her. “You can ask anyone.”
She glared at him. “Get out of this house. I don’t know who you are, but I won’t let you tarnish my brother’s character when he can’t defend himself—”
“Being gay isn’t—”
“Get out,” she spat out.
Liam started crying.
Miles looked between the boy and his aunt, torn. He wanted to take Liam into his arms and comfort him, but he could see that Amanda wasn’t joking. “You’re scaring him,” he said, taking a step toward Liam. “Let me calm him down at least.”
“If you don’t leave this house in the next five minutes, I’m calling security. Or the police.”
Dropping a quick kiss on top of Liam’s head, Miles hugged him tightly. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I wish—”
“Let go of my nephew and get out. Now.”
Miles left, his chest growing tight as the door closed after him, muffling Liam’s crying. At that moment, all he wanted was to grab Liam and take him with him. But he had no right. Just like he had no right to see Ian. He was no one to them, no matter what his heart said.
It felt like he was in some kind of dream as he gathered his things into his suitcase and left the house. He thought he said goodbye to Winifred, but he wasn’t sure. He could barely even remember the Uber drive to the airport or how long he waited for the next flight to London. It could have been minutes, but it could have been hours too; he didn’t know. Miles was vaguely aware that he was in some kind of shock. Everything felt disjointed, surreal. The world didn’t make sense. The world without Ian didn’t make sense. But that was the world he would be living in now.
Miles fell into an exhausted sleep as soon as the plane took off.
When he opened his eyes hours later, he found himself incredibly disoriented. He stared at the back of the seat in front of him, trying to process how he’d ended up on the plane. His mind came up blank. He felt strange on the inside. Numb. Maybe it was for the best. One breakdown a day was more than enough.
He might have drifted off again because the next thing he knew the plane was landing and he was one of the last people to get off of it.
Miles got his luggage and went through the passport control in some kind of daze. Everything still felt surreal, dream-like. His head was pounding. The jet lag didn’t help either. His stomach hurt from being empty, but he didn’t feel hungry. The mere thought of food made him nauseous.