Nerves pulse through me as I tip the baby bottle into Cami’s tiny mouth. She frowns at me, hiding her face in my arm, and I realise I’m holding her too stiffly. I force myself to take a deep breath, relaxing my muscles.
It’s a few hours before my meeting with Hamish, and I’m sitting in our hotel room feeding Cami. She’s lolling against the crook of my arm in her new dinosaur onesie, gumming dejectedly at her bottle.
As she drinks, my eyes flick back to the suit hanging on the back of the wardrobe door. Cyrus rented it for me for my meeting tonight. It stares back at me, taunting me. My leg starts to bounce as anxiety crunches my stomach.
I’m not looking forward to the dinner. I already know I’m going to flub it. I don’t interview well—I get all stressed and nervous and can’t even answer basic questions. Normally, that’s not too much of a big deal, since people don’t usually expect programmers to be social butterflies. But tonight, I really have to knock it out of the park.
God. Maybe I should take a shot of whiskey before I go down, or something.
Cami bleats angrily as my bouncing knee accidentally knocks the bottle out of her mouth.
I go still. “Sorry, baby.”
She glares up at me and latches on again. I sigh, glancing back at the suit.
I know Cyrus is pissed off at me for being so preoccupied with Hamish. I’m pretty sure he thinks Beth’s radio silence is partly because of me ignoring her and focussing on the convention. Even Seb’s been getting irritated with me; although he’s been irritated in general the last few days. Ever since Beth stopped responding to his calls.
I get it. I’m probably being really annoying. But neither of them seem to understand how much this means to me. My whole life, I’ve flown under the radar. I was the kid who locked himself in his room all summer, while my siblings went out and won pre-Olympic tournaments. They were getting interviewed by newspapers while I sat at home and played video games all day.
My parents tried everything to get me to be more social. They hid my consoles. Signed me up for clubs. Forced me to play sports. Nothing ever stuck. I was perfectly happy being introverted and quiet and nerdy, but that didn’t matter; everybody else just wanted me to be like my siblings.
Over time, I got used to being the unimpressive one. I got used to my parents spending all day driving their other kids to and from practices, but expecting me to sit on the bus for six hours to get to a gaming convention. I got used to them spending every single weekend at gymnastics competitions or football games, and not giving a shit when I won a county chess tournament. I got used to them forking out thousands of pounds a month for new trainers and leotards and private classes whenever my siblings asked for them, but refusing to let me join a junior coding course because the five-quid weekly fee was too steep.
I got the message loud and clear—what I wanted just wasn’t as important as what my brothers and sister wanted. And that was okay, because I figured that I was playing the long game. One day, I’d become successful, and I’d prove to everyone that I wasn’t just a stupid kid messing around with video games. I’d prove that I was actuallygoodat this. I had value, even if they didn’t notice it right away.
Being signed on by a massive gaming corp is all I’ve wanted for so, so long, and now it’s hanging right in front of me, close enough to touch. All I have to do is reach out and take it.
Cami finishes her bottle and flops dramatically over in my lap, her face scrunching up. I touch her cheek, and she pouts up at me, her big brown eyes tearing.
“Oh, baby,” I murmur, as she starts to cry again, soaking the front of my shirt. “It’s okay. We’ll be home soon.”
Poor Cami’s hated almost every second of this trip. She’s been sad and grumbly almost the entire time we’ve been here. I wipe off her face and give her a kiss, and she just cries harder, making fists in my shirt. I burp her, but even after, she keeps sobbing like she’s heartbroken.
“I shouldn’t have brought her here.”
I look up at Sebastian. He’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom while Cyrus shaves, watching his daughter with a blank look on his face. He looks exhausted. I’m sure we all do—Cami’s been waking up every half an hour at night. We’ve barely slept all week.
“Maybe she wasn’t ready for a holiday,” I admit. “It’s probably odd for her, being in a new place—”
“It’s not the new place,” he says shortly. “She was left on a bloody doorstep, and a few hours later she was laughing and smiling. Because of Beth.” He looks down at his daughter. “I thought I would be enough for her. But I’m not. I can’t make her happy like Beth can.”
I rub my eyes. “Beth’s a trained professional. You’ve only been a dad for a few weeks. Give yourself a break.”
He looks out of the window, his jaw working. “I’m not good enough for her,” he says quietly. I’m not sure if he’s talking about Beth or Cami.
Before I can ask, my phone rings. I look down and see our landlord’s number flashing across the screen. I immediately accept the call, switching it to speakerphone. “Hello?” I ask. “Is this Bill?”
Seb and Cyrus perk up immediately, coming to sit next to me on the bed.
“This is he,” our landlord grumbles. Even down the line, his annoyance is clear.
Not that I care. “Great. Did you see Beth?” I ask, getting straight to the point.
“She’s fine,” he says shortly. I glance up at Cyrus, confused.
“Did she look upset?” He asks over my shoulder.
“She had her makeup all smeared around her face. So either she’s trying a new style I don’t know about, or she’s been crying. You know it’s not my job to spy for you?”