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I look down into my lap and have to ask the question I fear the answer to. Is this mania normal, or is he just trying to avoid what happened last night?
“Is this what you want, Paul? Isn’t it sudden? Isn’t it rash?”
He turns to me and takes my hands. “I want what you want.”
“But shouldn’t we go slow, try to live together for a while first before buying a house? I mean, we’ve hardly even dated. I know we’ve been friends for years, but romantically we’ve only been together a few weeks. We should be smart about this.”
His eager smile turns into a frown and he looks away. “I see.”
“No, no, you’ve got it wrong. I do want all that, I do, but… do you? Do you really, Paul?”
“More than anything,” he mumbles, showing his vulnerability when he looks me in the eye, hurting.
I take his hands. “If you really want all that, you have to prove to me you can be my guy. You have to stop drinking, full stop, also see a counsellor about how your dad’s disease has affected you. And if this new job doesn’t work out, you might have to face facts and really have a rethink about your career, because you just don’t know how you’ll get on. Because you have to admit, you’ve been living these last few years like a nomad, never staying in the same place. I get it, if that’s what makes you happy, but you’ve got to be practical about this and see that it’s all going to take some adjusting. It’s going to take time. But if you can promise me that I’m your priority, then that’s great, because you’re mine. It’s just going to take time for us to get there but we have time.”
He nods his head slowly, still looking a bit dejected. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ve hurt me, Paul.” I have to hold back a sob, turning my face away.
“How do I make it right?”
I wipe my cheek, my head still turned to the side. “You have to just be honest with me when you’re going through stuff because it’s when you’re not honest that things go bad.”
“I know.” He looks down at his lap, head in hands.
“If you ever cheat on me, now that we’re together, I’ll leave you. That’s my red line. And if you drink, you might cheat, so you can’t drink. That’s the end of it.”
“Okay,” he mumbles.
“I’ll even stop drinking too if you like. It’ll be hard but I’ll manage it. We can check out the millennial low-alcohol products that are now clogging up the supermarket.”
“That sounds okay,” he chuckles.
“One day at a time, and maybe, eventually, you can move back into my bedroom.”
He looks at me, aghast.
I nod my head and stand up, moving towards the kitchen.
“Brew, then?” I ask.
“Yeah… please.” I hear the shock in his voice.
I’ll deprive him for as long as it takes for him to realise that it’s either me or his urges. He also needs to see that he can love me in ways that don’t involve sex. He can take care of me, comfort me, be here for me. He doesn’t haven’t to use his cock all the time to do the talking. He’ll have to engage his mind from now on and face up to everything he’s been suppressing, meaning we have hard times ahead of us as he comes to terms with having a selfish alcoholic as a father. I have hope he can do better.
So much hope.
I pray, with time, the pain will go away… replaced by something else.
Something better.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I arrive home from work a few days later to the smell of pasta and bolognaise sauce. Since last weekend and that whole mess, he’s been cooking every night and seems to be hoping I’ll let him back into my bed. We’ll see…
I throw my stuff down and head to the kitchen where he’s just about to serve up, draining the pasta over the sink. “Hey, go sit down, it’ll just be a tick.”
I notice jars of herbs lying around, the cheese grater out beside a packet of parmesan and the many, many dirty pots in the sink, ready for washing later. He seems to have made it all from scratch, so wow. He is a good cook and I know this because he was the one always cooking on group holidays. However, he could’ve just bought a jar of ready-made sauce and I would’ve been happy. It’s not like he’ll be able to continue cooking like this once he goes back to work after the Easter holidays. Speaking of which, it’s Good Friday this week and I’ve got a bit of time off over the weekend and next week. I can’t wait.
