Page 47 of You & I, Rewritten

“When we first started this foundation, our goal was to find some small way to give back to children and families impacted by addiction. In the last ten years, however, we’ve been able to expand our efforts and outreach into a much broader umbrella of mental health initiatives.” The crowd erupts into applause once more and Camila pauses before she continues.

“As some of you may know, my own family has been where a lot of these families that we serve have been…” her quiet voice cracks.Wait…what?I feel Graham tense once more behind me. “I’m sorry…I can’t help but get emotional because I know first-hand the powerful grip that addiction and mental health challenges can have on our loved ones. Witnessing your child suffer in this way is one of the most insurmountable pains as a parent, and if we didn’t have the resources and the community that we did, I can guarantee you we wouldn’t have survived it.”

The room is silent, mesmerized by Camila’s raw transparency. Is she referring to Graham? I don’t want to make assumptions, especially without knowing the context or the full story, but maybe this would explain why he didn’t want to come tonight. Maybe it wastoopersonal of an event to invite me to.

I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that I shouldn’t be here. If Graham had wanted me to know anything about this, he would have told me, right? It’s not like we haven’t had ample time and opportunity to discuss something like this. Lord knows I’ve opened up to him in ways that I usually don’t…I can’t help but wonder if I have done or said something that has given him the impression he can’t do the same.

This isn’t about you, idiot.

“It was then, once we were safely on the other side, that I knew there was so much more that we could be doing. That’s how all of this came to be,” she continues, her voice strong and filled with conviction once again. “Each year when we gather, I am always blown away by the collective kindness and generosity of this beautiful community. Families are able to come together, learning from one another and sharing in each other’s recovery. As I say to my family, there is no shame in admitting you need help, and when we face our challenges and our struggles head on, and we face them together, there is nothing we can’t accomplish. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for being here and supporting this cause, and I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

Mitch, Graham, and I all join the room in enthusiastic applause, which leaves Camila beaming. It’s clear just how much this organization and fundraiser mean to her, and while I don’t feel it’s my place to pry about what she alluded to in her speech, I’m eager to get Graham alone to see if any of this comes up.If he’s even willing to talk about it.

The music begins to play as people resume their mingling. Mitch hurries off toward his better half, wrapping her in a tight embrace before the two of them are quickly swarmed by well-wishers, leaving Graham and I awkwardly standing together. I steal a glance at him, his expression strained and the opposite of relaxed. Before I can say anything, he places a soft touch on my back. “Excuse me for just a moment,” he says quietly, his voice filled with tension and what sounds a lot like sadness.

Watching him walk away, my own anxiety starts creeping back in. I started the evening telling Graham that we both couldn’t be anxious wrecks and here I am going back on that. I was a fool for thinking I could be the so-called strong one of the two of us for a change. I glance over at where Graham and his parents were just moments ago and I see they’ve been swallowed up by the crowd, so instead of just awkwardly standing alone, I decide to take a lap, looking for some sort of distraction.Anysort of distraction.

The room has been lined with banners and informational signs for various programs and resources. There are flyers for support groups and organizations, all geared toward providing families and children access to care they so desperately need. It’s refreshing to see the emphasis communities and organizations are placing on mental health initiatives. Continuing my path along the wall, I browse the numerous handouts, pocketing a few I find interesting. Who knows, I may just find some new techniques for dealing with my own issues.

“This is all quite impressive, huh?” A strange voice pulls my attention from the pamphlet I was reading about the benefits of emotional support animals for children. Looking up, I meet the eyes of a tall, slender man, easily in his early to mid-thirties. His features are dramatic, with pronounced cheek bones and tired eyes, but despite his sullen appearance, he’s definitely naturally handsome. He stands slightly shorter than me, his thin frame almost lost in the sharp suit he’s wearing, and as he runs a hand through his dark blonde hair, I can’t help but notice a subtle shake to his movements.

“It’s certainly an inspiring cause,” I say through a smile, not wanting to be impolite. I realize I’ve ventured away from the main crowd as I browsed so my new friend and I are almost entirely alone. I’m normally never one to turn down small talk, but right now, I just want to clear my mind.

“I don’t know…Don’t you feel like it’s all too much? Like, let’s all get together andraise awarenessso that we can say we helped in some way, but then we all go back to our perfectly normal lives. It seems rather selfish to me.” His tone is laced with a disdain that makes me uncomfortable.

I think of Camila’s genuine emotion and take a step back from him, putting distance from whatever negativity he’s giving off. “I don’t think there’s anything selfish about wanting to help those who are struggling. Especially if you’ve been in their shoes before.”

“Fair enough,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender. “So, how do you know the famous Graham Austin? I saw the two of you come in together.” There’s an unexplained annoyance in his voice, one that I can’t quite put my finger on but it’s definitely there.

“I’m sorry…who are you?” I know my question comes across more direct than necessary, but I’m not going to start answering personal questions to some stranger.

Before he can respond, I’m suddenly joined by Graham, his presence larger than life at this moment. Oh God, did he think I was flirting or being hit on?

“What are you doing?” Graham demands, his voice sharp and harsh. Initially, I thought the question was directed at me, but looking up at him, I see now he’s staring daggers at this man whose identity is still unknown.

“Hello, brother,” he responds, a smirk forming across his long face as he crosses his arms. “Didn’t good ol’ mom and dad tell you I’d be here? I’m Luca,” he says, turning his attention back to me and extending his hand. I take it, giving him a brief but firm handshake, which I can tell bothers Graham, but I’m not going to be outwardly rude to someone I just met. I’m still reeling at the fact that hisbrotherhasn’t come up in conversation before.Brother, huh? What the hell?

“I’m Will.” I look between the two of them, noting the subtle similarities that weren’t apparent until seeing them side-by-side like this. While Graham has darker features, his mother’s genes so clearly on the surface, Luca must take after Mitch’s side, his complexion and hair much lighter than the rest of the family’s.

“Alright, you’ve had your introduction or whatever this was, Luca.” Graham puts his arm firmly around my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him. I can tell he’s angry, his body is basically vibrating with tension at this point.

“Oh, come on!” he says, playfully punching Graham’s arm, but judging by the way it makes him scowl, I know there’s nothing playful about it. “It’s been what, two, three years since we’ve seen one another? Let’s catch up and have some fun tonight. It’s a shame we can’t have a few drinks to celebrate this epic reunion!”

Graham takes a quick step forward, now just inches away from Luca’ face. He may be thelittle brother, but there is nothing little about Graham’s stature. He looks massive compared to Luca.

“Do you think that’s funny? After all these years…after everything that they’ve done for you…you think thattonightis the night to make a joke like that.” He’s furious, and part of me is prepared to intervene in case this turns into some sort of brotherly brawl.

Luca laughs but doesn’t move an inch. He’s got guts, I’ll give him that. “Lighten up, little brother…is he always this intense?” he asks over Graham’s shoulder in my direction.

Graham grabs him by the suit jacket, pushing him backward into a nearby cocktail table and sending several glasses crashing to the floor. If people weren’t looking before, they most certainly are now. “I mean it, Luca…this isn’t fucking funny,” he roars, drawing the attention of even more curious eyes.

“That’s enough,” I hiss, stepping between the two of them, placing a hand on either of their chests and pushing hard. “Look, I don’t know the history between the two of you, but now is not the time and mostdefinitelynot the place to rehash it all. Donotdo this to your mother.”

My words snap Graham from whatever frenzied state he was in, causing him to drop his hands to his side and take a step backward. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a worried Mitch and Camila making their way toward us.

“Yeah, Graham…you should probably listen to your boyf….”

I whip around so that I’m now the one in Luca’ face. “You shouldprobablyshut that mouth of yours.” Rage fuels every cell in my body and honestly, I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get Graham out of this situation…even if that means knocking out his brother.

---