Sadness in the Eyes - Pt. 01

Hi folks! My first entry on lit! Here is the first part to a two-part story. The second part is under construction and I'll hopefully finish next week.

The tale is of step siblings. My idea for this story came about because of a new friend describing his relationship with his wife of 12 years. The characters bear no resemblance to them, though.

This story is a very very far cry from the classic 'What are you doing, stepbro?" trope. It contains descriptions of depression, abuse and violence. Please be forewarned. It is also a slow burn without graphic sexual descriptions. If that isn't your cup of tea, please look elsewhere. There is however personal growth and lots of love.

I am a Brit and the spelling here will reflect that. Any comments or feedback is welcome. I humbly apologise for any errors and mistakes. I'm not a writer but a computer scientist, I tried my best. I hope you like the story.

-SS65
*****

Chapter 1.

It was a cold, uncaring early December evening like all others that came before and those that would follow. I hated this bit of winter. Especially since everyone was jolly all the time with Christmas cheer. I hadn't been this cynical always but time and a lot of hurt during this particular period had made me so.

I sighed into the silence of my new Mercedes AMG-GLS. On my side lay the file with a new contract from my employer. I was being promoted to head of R&D in Europe for the big pharma company I worked at. It was obvious who was the one worthy candidate despite my 'young' age of 36. I knew it and the world knew it but there was a healthy dose of imposter syndrome.

It felt somewhat undeserved. Not because I couldn't do the job. I was certainly one of the very few people who could, technically. It was just that my life was a mess and the station deserved someone with their shit together.

Cambridge had been home ever since I came here as a fresh faced teenager with dreams of winning a Nobel Prize. I had only left for a few years after my PhD to do a post-doc at Harvard, but that place too was Cambridge in another country. The rest of the time was spent here. Close to a decade and a half and I loved it. The city was in my bones.

My success was at a new high. I'd always been bright, much to my mum's dismay who wanted me to be normal. Not that I gave a shit about what she thought. She was never present, always drowning in a bottle to hide her misery. She cared more about bingo and the latest shitty soap on telly than she did about feeding us. I was the parent since I had been 11 and my cunt, drug addict of a father left us. Just a week before Christmas!

It wasn't easy. I came home from school every afternoon to cook a frozen meal for us. Mum returned with a bottle every evening after her shift at Tesco's three streets away. She had been a brilliant interior designer but got fired. She usually ignored me but would berate me if she found me buried in a book, calling me a sissy for not going out and having a life at 15. What 15 year old could read books and not do drugs? Insane, right?

Why did I disgust her so? She had once loved me deeply! Maybe because I looked so much like my father. I just suffered it silently, knowing I'll be away soon. She never hit me but her cold indifference hurt more. The dream of getting away kept me afloat. The only alternative was getting into gangs and a life of crime. That would mean a wasted life.

I went to a state school in a shitty neighborhood but had good teachers who encouraged me. I did well and they pointed me in the right direction. I was tall, skinny and nerdy but generally lay low so the bullies and druggies didn't notice me. That meant very few friends. Only three to be exact. Sarah, Mark and Graham.

Sarah was a fellow nerd and I had a huge crush on her but never voiced it. She was my first girlfriend as no one else seemed interested in the awkward, nerdy bloke. One fine day she just came to me and told me we were getting together and I didn't object. It was a dream come true for me. We hung out a lot and we shared so many precious moments. I loved her. She felt the same.

"I'm sorry Sam. I have to leave. Mum is leaving dad and we're moving to Dublin where my grandparents live." She said one December morning with tears in her eyes. She was gone after we said goodbye. I don't know what became of her. We couldn't afford cellphones back then and she didn't give me her address as she didn't know where they would stay. We would have been good together. The thought of her made me smile.

Mark and Graham were the Blake twins, a year younger than me. They were weird to put it mildly. Tall, gangly blokes with braces and glasses who collected fossils and leaves. They were always together and you couldn't tell them apart unless you knew them well. Our weirdness bonded us and we were inseparable. They were the closest thing to family I had left.

They were both doing well now. Mark was a dentist and had a wonderful family in Leeds. Beautiful wife and a daughter. Graham was a psychologist at the university of Manchester with a wife and two kids as well. We were still best mates but time and distance had made it difficult for us to be a very active part in each other's lives. I still saw them a few times a year and we spoke regularly. They were worried about me but they didn't know how miserable I truly was. It was better that way. No one needed to share in my misery.

I had always wanted to get out of the shitty council estate flat we called home in Birmingham. The crime-ridden pisshole was no place for someone with my talents. I had worked hard for my A-levels and landed a spot to study computer science with maths at King's.

My job at a computer store at 14 made me fall in love with them. I hadn't looked back since. I read every bloody programming book I could get my hands on and slowly enough, I could write pretty decent code. It made me some money as well, writing simple code to automate things for local businesses and factories.

After I had my A-level results and offer letter to King's with a scholarship. I boarded a train to Cambridge one morning before mum woke up and I haven't cared about what has happened with her since. I felt guilty about it sometimes, that I abandoned my mother, but she had stopped being a mother a long while ago. I remembered a time when she was happy and loving. If only things were different. I still loved that version of her.

The history and the atmosphere of Cambridge was just what an ambitious, young fellow like me needed. I aced every test I was given and breezed through my bachelor's degree. I followed it up with a PhD in computational biology. Cambridge had brought out the best in me.

The joy this wonderful city and my friends gave me was no longer enough, though. I was miserable and depressed. "Why in the world would a guy with a seven figure income and a great career be depressed?", you may ask. The answer would be loneliness. I felt truly alone in the world.

I hadn't had a relationship in almost a decade. My last girlfriend, Charlotte, was the one for me or so I'd thought. A blonde haired, blue eyed American goddess. She was so loving and accepting of me. I thought I finally had my happily ever after. It was only when I found her fellating my dickhead of a landlord that my delusions about happy endings finally shattered.

"Sammy, it's not what it looks like!" She'd said. I don't think she noticed her runny makeup, his filthy hand on her head or her knickers around her ankles. I did. I was so in love that I had been a fool. She was always sneaking away and complained I worked too much. I should have known. That event broke me. Another cold December evening, I might add.

I was in the other Cambridge, a fresh, 25 year old post-doc at Harvard when it happened. It left me so bitter that I gave up entirely on my dreams of becoming a star academic and joined the dark side of the pharma industry. It had also made me a cold bastard and a hardcore cynic. I despised everything good and romantic in the world.

I moved back home. Work became my religion, advancing ruthlessly and rapidly was the aim. I made friends only for convenience and became a social pariah. I was known as the stoic and ruthless bloke who got things done. I slept with pretty women here and there but didn't open my heart ever since.

My former kind and caring self was a dream, chasing the next high like the very druggies I hated. Sure, being an arsehole and chasing money and sex wasn't going to kill me, or was it?

I was rich. There were plenty of shallow women who would just fuck me but I hadn't done that either over the past four years. It felt hollow and cheap. I desperately wanted a connection. A part of me wanted to find my bright-eyed optimism again. I had once been a dreamer. It was my only option to make a better life. I longed to feel like I did ages ago.

I was afraid though, afraid of failing in a relationship. I couldn't take it. The heartbreak would be unbearable. My cowardice depressed me even more.

Maybe I could hunt Sarah down. That would be creepy. I had tried and failed. For all I knew, she was happily married to some Irish bloke with kids and a beautiful life. I had no right to mess it up. She was the only one who truly understood me. Why had I not tried harder to find her? Busy getting away. That's why.

I had no right to feel sorry for myself, this was my own doing. The proverbial grave had been dug and I had to now lie in it. People faced and escaped much harsher fates than mine. I had to get my shit together.

The sound of my phone buzzing broke me out of my pity party. It was Graham. "Sam, mate. I'm afraid it's bad news." He said before I could greet him.

"What's wrong mate?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

"Your mother....She passed....Cancer it seems...Mrs Wilkinson from the church on our old street called our mum earlier. I'm sorry brother." Graham sighed.

"Thanks for letting me know, Gram. You're a good friend." I replied. My voice choked and my eyes filled with tears. Mum was dead. She hadn't mattered to me all these years but suddenly I was bawling my eyes out.

"Sammy? You okay, mate?" Graham asked after he let me cry it out.

"Yeah. Just didn't think it would hit me so harshly. She wasn't my mother since I was 11. Why do I feel so sad?" I sniffled.

"Mate, It's a natural thing. No matter the past, she was still your mum. You loved her, or at least the best version of her." Graham soothed.

"Mrs Wilkinson said that she couldn't reach you. Funeral arrangements are made. I'll text you her number. Call her and get to Birmingham by 9. Me and Marky are driving there tomorrow. Text me your hotel and other info, we'll come get you." He informed me.

"You lads don't need to bother, Graham. You both are so busy already and your wives and kids need you more. I'll take care of it." I said.

"Are you mental? You need us and we'll be there. We're always there for you. You're our big brother." He said. That broke me a little more. I had been a year ahead of them in school and they hung around me like I could protect them. I hadn't been the best friend to them over the past while. They however, were ready to drop everything for me.

"I don't know how to thank you both, mate. You're everything I have left now." I cried again.

"Stop it or you'll get a bollocking. We'll see you soon. Try to get some rest and take the early train tomorrow. Take care." he said and the line went dead.

The good thing about being high up was I didn't need to ask for leave so I just sent the managing director an email. He responded immediately saying I could take as much time as I needed.

Fucking December strikes again. As a scientist I wasn't supposed to believe in bad luck. I was also an atheist but if there was a God, he had a fucked up sense of humour. Why was this time of year always so hard?

Chapter 2.

I was sat in the train feeling numb. The edge was right there and it was so tempting to jump. To end it all. I desperately needed to see a shrink. This wasn't healthy. I didn't really want to get better though.

All too soon, I was standing in front of my hotel in Birmingham. The prospect of going into my old neighborhood was frightening. I hadn't been back there since I left as a 17 year old. I'd visited the city for work a lot over the past few years but I never wanted to set foot in the estate again. Mum didn't live there any longer but she still went to the old catholic church. She had a plot reserved for her in the graveyard there.

Mark and Graham were supposed to pick me up before the funeral. I checked in, shaved and looked at myself in the mirror. My dark brown hair were almost all grey now. I looked pale and my green eyes had bags under them. I looked 50. Not 36. Splashing my face, I got dressed for the funeral and made my way to the lobby. It was almost time.

"Sammy, I'm so sorry." came Mark's voice when he saw me. "It'll be okay, mate." He said and crushed me in a hug which I welcomed. Graham also joined in. "Cheers lads." I said. They looked good. That made me happy.

"The funeral starts at 10. We best leave." Mark said.

"Have you eaten?" Graham asked.

"I had some coffee and a banana." I replied.

"We'll take you to lunch after, mate." Mark said.

"We also need to hit the pub after, boys. Really need a stiff one after today if I am to survive." I said.

"Whatever you need brother." Graham said, brushing my shoulder.

"Gram, did you know she re-married?" I asked Graham.

"I didn't until Mrs Wilkinson told us, Sam. She was in the hospital for a while. She apparently has a loving husband and stepchildren. They're going to be there as well. She was surrounded by family when she passed." He said.

I snorted. "Family! Her stepchildren adored her, I hear. Too bad she couldn't play mum when I was around."

"She also tried to contact me numerous times according to her 'children'" I spat. "As if I didn't know. Spoke to a Craig Jr last night who was eager to meet me. He said she wanted to apologize to me in her final moments."

"That's in the past, Sammy. You don't have to forgive her or like them, mate. You have to forgive yourself for leaving. I know you feel guilty but you had no choice and you did the right thing." Mark consoled me.

"Did I? It doesn't fucking feel like it!" I burst out.

"I don't know what to say mate! You have to let it go. All this anger isn't doing you any good. You need to stop running, Sammy. Your mum and Charlotte are in the past. You deserve to be happy." Graham said.

"Appreciate it lads but it's best if we let sleeping dogs lie." I said deflated. The drive to the graveyard was silent and I was feeling suffocated and angry at the world. I had to admit that a lot of my problems were due to my own stupidity.

Should I have mended bridges instead of being bitter? I was furious at mum for finding happiness after I was gone. Why couldn't she realise that I needed her too? Why couldn't she love me? By all accounts she had cleaned up her act. Mrs Wilkinson spoke highly of her.

Mum had tried to reinsert herself into my life repeatedly over the years. I was successful enough so it was easy to look me up. I hadn't bothered reading her letters or returning her calls. Should I have just heard her side? If she was so desperate, why didn't she find me and meet me? She had apparently, but I wasn't there. Would I have given her a chance?

All the swirling questions came to a halt as we reached the funeral. I got into the church to see about twenty people gathered for her. There was no rain but the day was cloudy and there was an uncomfortable chill in the air, typical of December.

A tall gentleman was stood beside mum's coffin. He looked devastated. I assumed he was the husband, Mr Craig Tucker Sr. I also saw two men and a woman beside him. They had to be the step siblings.

I walked to the open coffin with tears in my eyes. I just couldn't avoid them. Mark and Graham stood a bit behind. I caressed my mums cheek and kissed her forehead. She looked serene. Like the mum I knew before dad left.

"I don't forgive you mum, but I did love you." I whispered. Unable to stop the flood. Mark took me by the elbow and steadied me. "Sammy, mate. Calm down." He whispered. I calmed down after a bit and realised that the anger I held was still there. Graham was right. I needed to forgive myself. I would always regret not mending bridges but that was in the past. Nothing could be done now. I would take it to my grave.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr Tucker." I said shaking the man's hand. "These are my friends, Mark and Graham Blake" I introduced my companions. Craig Sr nodded and Mark and Graham shook his hand.

I wasn't prepared for the hug I received from him. "I'm sorry too, Dr Cunningham. I know she wasn't the best mother to you. How she treated you was her biggest regret until the day she died. She never did forgive herself. She tried to see you so many times but just gave up in the end." He said patting my shoulder.

He seemed to be a good man and I was somewhat happy mum found him. "It's Sam, Mr Tucker. There's no reason to hold it against her anymore. I might not have forgiven her if she were alive but it hardly matters now. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you. I know I have no right but I'd still like to help."

"I'm sorry again Sam. The same offer goes for us. This is Craig Jr" He pointed to the taller one of the two men. "I believe you have already spoken. This is John and Katie." He gestured towards the other two.

Craig was in his early thirties, about 6'3", looked just like his father, handsome and distinguished. John was a little shorter than me, maybe 5'9" and he was good looking too. Katie was barely 5'2". She looked distraught but there was a beauty and quiet strength in her that intrigued me. Katie and John seemed to be in their mid twenties.

"I'm truly sorry for your loss, Sam. She always told us how brilliant you were and followed your career closely. She loved you very much but believed that she didn't deserve your forgiveness after what she had done to you." Katie said.

"Thanks. I really appreciate that. I'm sorry too. I heard you were all very close. I'm glad that she found you to love." I said, beginning to sob again. I couldn't be nice any longer. I had to leave. They spoke of my mother with so much love, something I could never bring myself to do.

I turned away and started walking outside. "I'm sorry!" I cried out as I left. Mark and Graham followed getting me in the car and taking me away from these 'kind' people. My mum had apparently found kindness too. Too fucking late! The bitterness lingered and I was okay with it.

"That was tough, Sam. Want to get something to eat now?" Mark asked as he drove.

"Yeah! No shit, Marky! I'm actually starving mate! Some food would be amazing. I feel like a burger." I said smiling and trying to hide my tears.

You are invited to the reading of the will tomorrow, Sam. Please be there if you can bear it. The reading will be at our offices. The address is xxxxx. Claire had a letter for you and some things she'd like you to have.

-Craig Jr

Read a text on my phone.

"The tall fucker wants me at the reading of mum's will tomorrow. Says she left a letter for me." I laughed. "I'm so tempted to ask him to sod off but I need to know why I was so hated."

"We'll take you there tomorrow, Sammy." Graham said.

"No way, dude! You can't stay another day!" I scoffed.

"Listen here, arsehole! We plan to get hammered with our brother tonight and our wives wouldn't want to see us dead trying to drive home drunk. So, we're stuck here until tomorrow afternoon at the very least. You have no choice!" Mark warned.

"Suit yourselves." I said.

We stopped for a fantastic burger at a steakhouse in town and went to a nice old English pub after. It was barely 2 pm when we entered and by the time we left at 7, we were truly hammered. I forgot most of my woes with my best mates and was eternally grateful for them. I resolved to be a better friend to them. I felt so guilty for abandoning them.