Page 80 of Unraveled

Gian had been right—he couldn’t and he didn’t pretend to be someone that he wasn’t. It was her who looked the other way. There was going to come a time when Cara wouldn’t be able to turn cheek to the sides of Gian that frightened her, and once she did, there would be no way to look away. There would be no more pretending.

Before Cara fully understood her actions, she had grabbed for her phone and dialed a familiar number, but it wasn’t Gian’s. She listened to the ringing echo through the speakers as she waited for her brother to pick up the call. She didn’t entirely expect Tommas to answer, as more often than not, he called her or she left a message.

But on the fourth ring, he did pick up.

“Ciao.”

For a whole ten seconds, Cara didn’t respond.

All of the sudden, she didn’t know what to say.

She heard the speaker crackle with an annoyed huff before Tommas muttered, “Cara, is that you?”

“Yes,” she finally said.

“Something wrong?”

Cara glanced at the blank television screen, and considered how to answer that question. “How do you do it, Tommas?”

Her brother cleared his throat, and then she heard him shuffle around as though he were getting out of bed. “You’re going to need to make more sense, if you want a proper answer.”

She couldn’t help but notice how tired he sounded. Not sleep-tired, but a fuck-this-world kind of tired. It was so unlike her brother. He was laidback, cool, calm, and collected. Always.

Cara had never known Tommas to be anything else.

“Are you sure nothing is wrong?” Tommas asked, when Cara stayed silent.

“Nothing serious.”

“All right. Ask me your question again, but make more sense this time.”

“How do you care and attach yourself to people who feel like their existence in your life is not guaranteed, but more temporary than you’re willing to admit. Like tomorrow, someone gets pissed off or offended and suddenly, you’re burying your sister … or someone else you love.”

Tommas sighed. “That’s a heavy question for someone who didn’t even thank me for wishing her a happy birthday a month ago.”

“Thank you for the birthday wishes, Tommy.”

He grunted under his breath. “I don’t think about it—that’s how I deal. And I protect those people as best I can, I do whatever I need to do so that my choices and my actions don’t inadvertently hurt them or take them away from me.”

“Huh.”

“Sometimes I fail, too,” Tommas added, a sadness creeping into his tone. “And that kills me, but it’s unavoidable.”

“Yeah, but …”

“What, Cara?”

“What about people like me?”

“I do that for you, too. Why do you think you’re still in Toronto, huh? Not here, in Chicago, advancing my stupid ass in this fucking family or something?”

“I meant, what about women like me—how do I deal with it? I can’t manage it the same way you do, I’m not like you, Tommy.”

“That’s not an easy answer, Cara.”

“Try me. Give me something.”

“Why are you even asking this shit?”