“Huw would do that anyway because he loves you,” I said softly, now patting him gently on the cheek. He was a good man. Kind, tactile and generous with both his smiles and time. And he made Huw happy, which was the most important thing here.
Love, so easy and uncomplicated between those two, as Simon gently kissed his husband’s cheek. I’d known Huw forever, it seemed. Always too serious, always too stern, and yet here he was, radiant with this giant softie of a man by his side.
And here I was, still a twisted knot of anger.
“At least you had a comfy seat.” Simon winked. “The rest of us are still trying to unknot our backs from the torturous effects of economy travel. My knees will never be the same again.”
“Well, I saved hard and splurged,” I lied. I’d made a point of ensuring I wouldn’t share oxygen with Thomas and Jordyn, and also that I wouldn’t have to partake in their very public displays of togetherness. The difference was staggering. Huw and Simon. A perfect coupling of gentle teasing and obvious affection. As for Thomas? He hated public displays. Never even held my hand in the years we were together. Yet here he was, swaying in his seat, with Jordyn draped over his shoulders.
I had to look away. Hated it. Hated everything.
Hence, I made an excuse to go hunt for dessert and removed myself from the situation.
Dessert, and dessert. The offerings on the buffet all looked like they were made from shaving foam, nothing even close to melting in the stifling heat. The AC was apparently on the blink, and the wine was warm, the ice in the display buckets long gone.
I still poured myself a glass, all the way up to the rim, and stood there like the greedy plonker I was. I wondered if I could get away with grabbing a second one, discreetly retreat outside onto the beach and get stone cold drunk like a teenager would.
I was a responsible human being.
“My son ran away.”
Oh God, here was the woman from earlier, a pensioner with a warm smile. I didn’t mind too much; she was obviously of a good sort, having clocked us, our obvious queerness, my distress and a comforting combo of her grabbing my arm and complimenting my handsome looks? I smiled.
Also, she was trying to get her queerish son laid; I’d gathered that much. And now? Now he’d run away, and I was standing here holding two glasses of wine in my hands.
“Why?” I asked. Firstly, because I was polite and wanted to interact with her in kind conversation. Of sorts. Secondly? She was saving me from having to watch Jordyn stick his tongue in Thomas’s ear.
“He’s frightened. He’s such a kind, warm-hearted man, and he just can’t find anyone who will see that. I mean, he has a good job, earns good money. I may be his mother, but I think he’s a great catch.”
“So am I.” I laughed. “Yet I’m obviously a disaster on a grand scale. I would advise your son to keep running. Far, far away.”
“I don’t believe that.” She tutted and wiped a crumb off my shoulder. Straightened my collar. Something a mum would do. I suddenly shuddered. “You’re very attractive, Riley. Very much a catch. And you’re apparently exactly my Noah’s type.”
“He said that?” I said sarcastically. I hoped she understood my tone of voice. I wasn’t being rude or mean here, I just… I’d clocked her son, earlier on, before all of this. Handsome. Strong and built. Kind eyes. Brooding and… Fuck. Yes. The kind of man… I shook myself out of my weird state.
“You should go talk to him. We’re all going to be here this week. I think perhaps both of you should make some new friends, Riley.”
“It’s Mr Riley.” I grinned. “Riley is what my colleagues call me.”
“And your first name?” She was still holding on to my arm. Mothering me. I was going to spill this wine in a second.
“Fox,” I said, and suitably rolled my eyes. “I have endured a lifetime of ridicule; there is nothing you can say that I won’t have heard before.”
Protection. I still behaved just like my students. Which is why I rarely told anyone my name. And the drink had obviously loosened my tongue as this woman just laughed in my face.
“Darling boy, that is a gorgeous name. Suits you. Mysterious and handsome, and guards all those worries on the inside. I’m Gillian. Former mental health nurse. Keeper of secrets and solver of mysteries. Watch this space, I’m going to look after you as well, Mr Fox Riley. What a lovely, lovely name. Noah will be thrilled.”
This was when I said stop. Perhaps I should put my foot down here and throw together some carefully chosen sentences with regard to my privacy, that of her son and the fact that life didn’t work like this. You couldn’t just take two humans and smash them together on matching deckchairs and they’d live happily ever after.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she mused, finally releasing me from her grip. “And you’re absolutely right. But hey, what if you’re wrong?”
And with that, she patted my arm and left me standing there, the warm wine dripping through my fingers.
I should have saved my dignity. Gone back to the table and bid everyone goodnight. Instead, I downed both glasses of sickly bitter wine, one after the other. Refilled both glasses with shaking hands and disappeared out the back door.
The sand between my toes was soothing, and having discarded my flip-flops somewhere, I was now stumbling around on the deserted beach in drunk confusion.
Yes, I knew better than this, and I was sure I’d had my room key earlier, but instead I was now barefoot and on my way to getting proper drunk, holding another refilled wineglass in my hand. I was trying to walk towards the bar, and I was pretty sure my room was… Second floor? What?
