Page 109 of Read My Lips

“Now hang on a minute!” Richard’s booming voice cut through the static. “Just because everybody wanted it to be me, doesn’t mean it was.”

Blow me – I was being rescued by the underwear model who didn’t rate me as his body double.

Luke’s eyes flashed with irritation. “I’m trying to understand why – if it really was you two – as you keep asking everyone to believe – you didn’t say so, Ben?”

Every blood vessel in my face dilated. My body clearly mistakenly believed escape would come from the heat making me rise up and float off like a hot air balloon. My cheeks fluoresced harder with every heartbeat. Christ, Luke would pull at all the holes in our botched-together story until it unravelled like a moth-eaten jumper.

“I – um.” Static rang in my ears. Over by the side of the room the waiter hovered, exuding disapproval. No one else had come in here lying their lying teeth off.

“I don’t think you did, Ben.” Luke had victory in his voice. “I don’t think you and Simon are even together. You wouldn’t have ended up coming back with me if you were.”

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“No. We are though.” Oh god. How weak did that sound? On a scale of zero to convincing, I was a solid minus five. “You’re just – you’re wrong. We’re in that tape.”

Next to me, Simon drew a slow breath over his teeth. No cracks in his mask.

“Luke, I’m sure you’re from a lovely, deeply accepting family, but Ben isn’t.”

“Oh stop clouding the issue. I’m asking Ben right now, not you.”

Simon’s face set with grim composure.

“I see. You have no interest in the truth? Unfortunate that you don’t believe it’s relevant Ben – understandably – didn’t want his only living relative to be confronted with a tape of him having sex with a man, and disown him for it. Richard’s wedding wasn’t at the forefront of either of our minds.”

Oh my god. My ears rang. What was he doing?

“Simon.” Eyeballing him, I shook my head, telepathically commanding him to stop. Under the table, he reached to squeeze my hand.

“It’s okay.”

I shoved him off. It was not okay making out I was stuck in the closet because of Gran. Because I wasn’t loud about being out. But he couldn’t take it back and the red light on his phone was still winking, recording over the truth of me.

“You might want to make a note, Luke. His mother died when he was growing up.” Every word sliced into me. Simon had no right sharing this. But Luke was dialled in. “He doesn’t have many people who are close to him. Does that make enough sense for you, now?”

My lungs seized – my ability to breathe rusted solid. Around me, the definition of the room faded out. I could pass out, right in front of them all, and no one would notice because Simon was in full swing.

None of this was about me. Simon didn’t give a shit about my gran. Or my mam. Or me. This was all about the story. The narrative. Richard fucking Whittaker was front and centre, just like Luke said he was. And I’d played into it, right from the start.

Luke glowered.

“The thing is,” Richard’s voice echoed into the space, and I closed my eyes, praying to the universe for the world to stop turning. “I want to add something here. To clarify my position. The thing is – that video wasn’t entirely incorrect.”

One single truth throbbed neon with clarity behind my eyelids. This had never been about me and Simon at all.

“Richard, what are you doing?” Simon didn’t like him going off script. What a joke. I blinked my eyes open. Luke was staring at me like we’d both realised what an insignificant pawn I was at exactly the same time.

Richard held a hand up.

“Si, let me finish.” Si. Fucking Si and Dick and Temp. “The truth is Simon and I have been more than friends. In the past. Which Temp is fully aware of. Let me assure you of that right now. I’m sure there will be a lot of people telling me I’m stuck halfway out of the closet, and lying to myself, one way or the other. Which, honestly is why I haven’t been prepared to be upfront sooner. But the fact is, Temp is bloody gorgeous. And so is Simon. In a very different way. I mean, look at him.” He was already laughing. My face refused to join in. “You did look at him, I bet. For a full three minutes, a couple of times over I should imagine.”

Luke’s eyebrows stitched together. Richard – the ruiner of all plans. Breaking his big scoop wide open and smashing it to bits. Like he always should have done.

Oh god. If I’d kept my mouth shut he’d have come out and said all this anyway. Because I was an extraneous bloody part. Because Simon was so incredibly dear to him. What had I been thinking? Richard Whittaker was right bloody there to step in and remind Simon how good they were together without the need for our total farce of a relationship. And I was the idiot tangling everyone up in unnecessary knots over abso-bloody-lutely nothing at all.

“I’m marrying Temp, because I love her more than I can put words around the feeling. Not just because I knocked the old gal up.” His bark of a laugh echoed around my head. “But Simon is remarkable. And I truly hope he finds somebody equally remarkable, to do more than have a little romp with on my sofa behind my back.”

Finds. Future tense. Because Richard knew it was never going to be me. Everything between me and Simon had only ever been for his benefit.