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“When do I ever?” Oliver muttered. His sibling was just reaching the door when Oliver’s phone rang, and the number on the screen startled him. “Hang on a second, Leo. It’s dad.”
At that, Leo froze, and a faint color rose along his cheekbones. He leaned on the back of the armchair as Oliver swiped the answer button and pushed the phone up against his ear harder than was necessary.
“Hello?”
“Oliver?”
“Yeah, er…dad.” It had always felt awkward addressing him by any familiar terms, but Oliver was far past calling the man, ‘father’.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I just got word your mother passed. About fifteen minutes ago. The nurses phoned. She went in her sleep.” Ren’s voice was devoid of emotion, almost clinical, like he was speaking about a stranger.
Oliver said nothing for a long moment, shocked into a silence between them. It wasn’t as though he didn’t expect this. He’d been waiting to hear the news of her passing for months now. But hearing it was official, that she was gone, thought there would be some reaction. Maybe rage or repressed grief, but there was just… nothing. Just a faint numbness settling over is limbs.
“Right. So…right,” he said eventually, clearing his throat.
“I will, of course, be making the arrangements, and I expect both you and your sibling to turn up at the funeral.” Ren paused, and when Oliver didn’t respond, he went on. “We can discuss travel plans soon, but I won’t keep you now. I am sorry you never got to say goodbye.”
“Yes, well…” Oliver swallowed, not sure what to say, because he’d done it on purpose, and surely his father knew that. “Thanks for letting us know. Be in touch soon.” He didn’t wait for a goodbye before hanging up.
It was clear by the look on Leo’s face, he knew. “When?”
“Fifteen minutes ago.” Oliver set his phone down on the computer desk with a loud thunk. He startled from it, then cleared his throat again. “We’re expected at the funeral.”
“Fuck that. Fuck her,” Leo spat.
“And yet, we will be going,” Oliver said. “You said yourself you’d set foot there when she’s buried in the ground, and that’s going to happen.”
Leo’s jaw was tense, and he clenched his fists. “I’m not going to deal with this right now, Ollie. I’m going out. Don’t call me, alright?”
Oliver waved him off. “Wouldn’t dream of it, dear heart. Have a good night.”
Without another word, Leo spun and slammed the door on his way out. The silence was almost physical, pressing against him on all sides. The website was blinking at him, asking him if he wanted to pick a flight. It felt mocking, in a way. His mother had robbed him, yet again, of comfort and happiness. Any trip he made there with Gabriel would be tainted with her death.
Slamming the top of his laptop down, Oliver picked up his phone and went up the stairs. His room was dark, his window open to let in the cool breeze coming off the nearby water. He found himself thumbing through his messages, pausing over Gabriel’s name, and a text was at the tip of his fingers.
He had several options. Have Gabe come over and talk him through it. Put on Netflix, order some food that had the potential to clog two or three arteries, and deal with his emotions alone. Or he could say nothing and beg Gabe to join him out for a drink to forget.
The latter sounded better. Because he was not feeling equipped to let the news hit him just yet.
He tapped out the text.
Need you. Wanna go out for a drink tonight?
Gabe responded five minutes later, telling Oliver to meet him at their usual spot at eight. No arguments, no questions. With any luck, Gabriel’s day in retail would have been so terrible, his mood would eclipse Oliver’s, and he wouldn’t notice anything was wrong.
But there were still two hours before Gabe was done, so Oliver decided to dress and get there a little early. A few extra drinks to get started never hurt anything.
Fourteen
He was far gone by the time Gabe arrived at the club. It hadn’t been intentional, and he was doing his best to keep it together, but he’d never been the best with subtlety. His unfocused eyes spotted Gabe walking through the door, wearing jeans and a slightly baggy sweater which seemed hot for the evening, but it still sent shivers of want coursing up and down Oliver’s spine.
Divesting himself of his current dance partner, Oliver followed Gabe to the bar, sliding his arms around Gabriel’s waist and propping his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Hey there, sexy beast. You come here often?”
“Only when my sexy British boyfriend invites me out. He’s the jealous type too,” Gabriel said with a grin, “so you should probably run before he sees you.”
“Mm, I bet I could take him,” Oliver said, pressing a wet kiss under Gabe’s ear. Sliding to the side, but not totally taking his hands away from Gabe’s waist, he looked him up and down. “You don’t think it’s a bit warm for that?”
“It’s fucking sweltering,” Gabe said with a shrug, shoving the sleeves up higher. “But my back was aching, and I had to take my binder off.”
