Present Day (Day 1)...
Temple Bar has its charm but it is nothing on Barcelona's Las Ramblas; somewhere you and Ste hang out on the odd long weekend away. Your family has a villa out there where you spent your summers as a child. Ste loves it there so you knew that it would be the perfect place to propose to him; something you did five months ago.
And he said yes.
Yes, Marty! I'll marry you!
But that memory is dampened by a more recent one.
I love you, Brendan.
You shake your head to clear those words.
You walk out of the Foggy Dew and grab a cab. Destination- anywhere but your hotel room.
Your phone beeps the way it has several times already tonight signalling an incoming message from Ste. You ignore it as you have all the others.
"Where is a good place to go for a night out?" You slur to the cabbie.
He stares at you through the rear-view mirror. "Depends on what you want."
You think about this. What you really want is to go back in time and for Ste to not to say what he did.
"Whatever." You shrug. "Surprise me."
The driver speeds through the city in that Highway Code defying way that taxis have a habit of doing.
He eventually grinds to a halt outside a redbrick building with a long queue of noisy clubbers leading up to a set of slick glass double doors with a sign above them that is reminiscent of a lightning bolt.
THE ELECTRIC.
You suddenly don't feel like going in. You aren't in the mood. You don't like partying without Ste so you tell the taxi driver to take you to a hotel. Not the one you have been staying in though.
"The Ashling."
You get dropped off outside the hotel and walk to the reception desk. You use the internal phone to dial a three digit room number. You know this is not a great move but this person is the only other person you know in town since he is here for the psychotherapy conference as well. And while you aren't exactly close anymore you have remained civil over the years. You spoke to him briefly during the day and he even asked after Ste.
The phone rings twice before his familiar voice answers.
"Hello?" Toby says sleepily.
"Hi. Sorry to wake you up."
"Marty?" Suddenly your ex-boyfriend sounds wide awake.
"Yeah. I-" You shut your eyes feeling teary and broken. "I need somewhere to stay tonight."
"Where are you?"
"Downstairs." You slur.
"Have you been drinking?"
"Maybe."
"Where's Ste?"
"Back at our hotel."
There is silence across the line then Toby says, "Come up."
"Thanks."
You take the lift to his floor. He opens the door to his room before you have a chance to knock on it and lets you in. You take a seat on his bed and close your eyes.
"You guys had an argument?" He asks.
Your silence acts as a big fat 'yes'.
"What happened?" He asks. No 'I told you so' thank goodness.
You can't tell Toby what happened. It would validate that his countertransference theory was true; that Ste's emotions had been about Brendan, not you, all along.
"I don't want to talk about it." You say. "If you want me to leave-"
"No." Toby lays a hand on your arm. "You can stay."
"Thanks."
You have no idea how you finally manage to fall asleep with your head spinning like it is but you do. When you wake up once in the night, you feel Toby's arm lying across you.
You don't push his sleeping body away. His presence is comforting and you have no residual feelings for him.
How healthy of you...
XOXO
Present Day (Day 2)...
The next day you both head to the conference together. Toby doesn't push you for an explanation of what happened but as the morning rolls on you start missing Ste unbearably. It doesn't help that he keeps ringing you and sending you messages... that you continue to ignore.
By lunch time, you are unable to resist. You step out of the hall that is set up with a buffet meal and into the grey Dublin weather.
You take a deep breath in before answering his call. "Yes."
"Martin!" The relief in his voice is immeasurable.
"What do you want? I am missing a lecture." You lie.
"Oh. Uh. Yeah. Sorry." He sounds taken aback by your harsh tone. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried sick."
"I'm fine."
"I'm glad," A pause. "Where did you stay last night?"
"I found somewhere." You say evasively. "If that's all..."
"It's not." He interjects quickly. He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. "I am so sorry, Marty."
You grip your phone so hard that you think it is going to snap. You grit your teeth together in anger and pain. You can't open your mouth to speak.
"I don't know why I said what I said but it's not true. You've got to know that, right. My mind was a mess after seeing him, that's all."
"Say his name, Ste." You say angrily. He had no problem saying it to declare his feelings earlier, did he?
The line falls quiet. Then he whispers, "Brendan."
"The man you love." You spit out.
"No! Don't say that! It's just you and me, innit? You make me so happy. I love you, Marty." He says it so softly and with such determination that your feel your resolve slip a little. "You mean the world to me. Honest. And I can't stand thinking that I have fucked everything up between us."
He begins to cry so quietly you suspect that he is trying to hide the fact from you.
"Ste, can you imagine how it made me feel?" You say. "It felt like all you needed was one look at the guy after six years and he was back in your heart again. He has such a hold on you."
"But I am not his anymore. I am yours. Always."
Your heart does a skip and a dance hearing those words but you can't bring yourself to fully believe him.
"Come back to the hotel. Please." He whispers.
You want to do nothing more. You suspect that he hasn't left it since you stormed out last night. But you feel fractured. The event is still raw and Ste has proved that he has unresolved issues surrounding his ex. So you ask one simple question that begs for one simple answer.
"Do you still have any feelings for Brendan?"
He pauses for too long; hesitating when you need his certainty.
"No." He croaks.
You nod into the handset. It stings. The truth is exposed behind the word.
"Liar." You hiss. "Sort yourself out, Ste."
And you end the conversation.
XOXO
In the late evening you look at your reflection in the mirror in Toby's hotel bathroom. You are wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday since you haven't been back to your own hotel but you are showered and smelling fresh. You are going commando as a needs must.
Your ex looks at you with concern as you spray his aftershave on you then grab your wallet and phone.
"Marty, you should talk to Ste instead of acting up."
"I am not acting up." You deny.
"Clubbing in the middle of the week. You're not eighteen anymore."
"Never said I was." You turn to him. "Don't wait up."
You leave and grab a taxi outside the hotel foyer.
"The Electric please." You say, remembering the club that you were driven to yesterday before you chickened out.
Less than fifteen minutes later the taxi stops in front of the club's glass double doors.
You slip the taxi driver ten Euros and step out joining the long line of clubbers awaiting admission. You notice straight away that, at the very least, THE ELECTRIC is gay-friendly. The queuing crowd is permissive, inclusive and friendly.
You get chatting to a group of friends who welcome you into their midst. A guy joins them a few minutes later apologising for being late. He is a looker in a rough and ready kind of way; the type of bloke that you assume works with his hands. You catch the stubble. You get a whiff of aftershave. He is dressed a little too casually for a night out in jeans, t-shirt and smart trainers. You wonder whether he'll get turned away at the door for not meeting the standard club dress code.
You needn't have worried. After quick introductions he leads you and your new acquaintances to the front of the queue and high-fives the bouncer.
"Alright, Billy-boy."
"Alright, Paddy." The burly doorman nods then says. "Just so you know the boss isn't in today."
"Which one?"
"The tache-man."
"Thanks, man." He ushers your group through the club's doors then falls in step with you and smiles. So Mr. 'Hot manly man' knows the owners, huh? You smile back at him.
"This place is great." You say taking in the atmosphere. "Thank you for getting me in."
"No problem." He replies as you walk into the main dance room. "So what's a Scotsman doing in Dublin?"
"Work for a few days. A little play."
"Then you'll have a good time tonight." He gives you a wink and a squeeze of your shoulder that makes you wonder whether he bats for your team.
"Sounds good."
And so the night begins. The bar staff are obliging. The drinks are special. The music is banging. The atmosphere is buzzing. The venue is too cool for school. It has successfully married modern design with subtle eighties flourishes. Whoever owns the place has hit a winning formula.
You are swept onto the dance floor by Paddy's friends. He stays away claiming two left feet. As the night progresses you tire and walk off looking for him. He intercepts you and suggests cooling down in the club's chill out room after grabbing some drinks at the bar. He shamelessly flirts with the female bartender which confuses you. You could swear he has been giving you suggestive looks tonight. He is hard to figure out, this Paddy bloke. He intrigues you.
You follow him into a quieter room where the music is more relaxed and atmospheric . You both collapse into a large bean bag and get talking.
He is a laugh. Quick-witted and easy-going. You feel guilty that you are getting on with him so well.
"So what's the story with you, then?" Paddy asks you.
"How do you mean?"
"Night out on your own. You don't strike me as a loner." He says.
"I'm not." You say. "It's just that I don't know anyone in town."
You don't want to bring up Ste but it is almost like you are hiding him.
He leans in and says, "Well, if you want I could show you around. Be your guide."
"Uh." You physically back away. This feels like cheating somehow. "Yeah, maybe."
He reads your rejection and rubs at his stubble in embarrassment. "Have I said something weird?" He takes a deep breath. "I'm new at all this so-"
You don't follow his meaning so you throw him a confused look.
"I've, basically, just, you know, come out. To friends and such."
You can almost see his blush in the dark lighting of the room. So he is gay.
"Right. I wasn't sure. You send out some seriously mixed messages."
"Bad habits die hard." Paddy says.
You grin. "How did you know about me?"
"The way you've been looking at me and the fact that you haven't stared at any boobs since getting here!"
You laugh and he moves in closer to you. You sense his intent so you stop laughing as his lips approach yours. You move away from him. He is attractive and you like him so you can't get too close.
"Right. I think I better get going." You say and stand up. "Early start tomorrow."
He stands up, too. "Already?"
"Yeah." You say. Suddenly your mind is clear. "Look, I lied before. I did come to Dublin with someone and he is waiting for me at the hotel. I should be there not here. Sorry."
"Oh." He says.
Someone strides up and playfully shoves him in the arm.
"Hey, mister! Billy said you were here so I thought I'd find you before I left to see Bren. Are you hiding away from me?"
You look at the woman between you and Paddy. She looks familiar.
"No. I was looking for you! Come here!" Paddy lifts her effortlessly into his arms and spins her around eliciting an excited squeal and a,
"Put me down, you brute! My dress is too short!"
While they embrace and share friendly kisses you study her closely. Pretty, tall, slim, blue eyes, long almost black hair tied into a loose plait that hangs over a shoulder. Off the shoulder short dress. Great shoes.
She glances at you and the penny drops. You recognise her and she recognises you.
"Hey." She says. "You were at Secondo's a couple of days ago with-"
"Yeah." You say.
"Kind of awkward wasn't it?" She says with a small smile. "We didn't even get introduced."
You nod.
"I'm Nicole." She extends a confident hand out to you.
You shake it and reply. "Martin."
Paddy looks between you, confused. "You've met?"
"Yes." You say. "By chance."
"So you are a friend of Brendan's?" You ask her, trying to keep the acid out of your voice.
"For my sins." She says with a wry grin. "We are business partners too. Paddy is one of Bren's childhood friends."
Paddy grins. "Niks is being modest. Bren and she own this place. They are the queen and king of Dublin's night life!"
You feel sick. You are on Brendan's turf. You want to leave now more than ever.
"And you? Is Ste your boyfriend?" Nicole asks you.
"He's my fiancé." You say and make a point of showing them your left hand with the gold band. They better let Brendan know to stay away. Despite emotions of pain, hurt and betrayal, you still love Ste.
You are still possessive of him.
"Oh." Nicole's mouth forms a perfect O. She is shocked. "Wow. Right. Okay."
"Ste?" Paddy asks. "Ste Hay from Hollyoaks?"
Nicole looks at him and then you. She is still shaken up by your revelation. Does she have a problem with gay marriage? From everything you have gathered about Brendan's internalised homophobia you wouldn't be surprised if his friends were of a similar ilk.
"Yes. That Ste." You confirm to Paddy.
Paddy's eyes widen. "That's crazy! He went out with Bren for a while!"
You feel a squeeze of jealousy. Nicole rolls her eyes at her friend's lack of tact.
"How is he, by the way?" Paddy asks suddenly. "I heard what happened."
"Fine." You say abruptly. You don't want to say anything more about him. Fuck. It seems that anywhere you go in Dublin you come across someone with a link to Brendan.
It is like he owns the city.
"Is Ste here?" Nicole asks looking around.
"No. He is back at the hotel." You say. "Sleeping. Headache, you know."
"Right." She says. There is something in her cat-like eyes that makes you feel like she is searching your soul for the truth; like she doesn't believe you. "Have you set a date for the big day?"
"Not yet." You say truthfully. "But we are planning for early next year. No long engagements."
Nikki closes her eyes for a second.
"Wow. Um, okay. I've got to get going." She laughs nervously and then says. "Nice to meet you, Martin."
"Nice to meet you, too."
"And, uh, and all the best for your wedding."
"Say hi to Bren for me!" Paddy shouts after her as she practically runs out of the chill out room.
"What a small world." He says to you.
"Yeah." You mutter before saying you need to go.
XOXO
Five months ago (Barcelona)...
After nearly five years with Ste you know you are doing the right thing today. That doesn't mean that your nerves are any less jangled. You take a deep calming breath and put finishing touches to the lunch you are preparing; two plates of warmed goat cheese and roasted peppers on a bed of rocket salad with reduced balsamic vinegar.
Today is a big day. You know it. Your parents and sister back home know it. Amy and Pete know it. Even little Leah and Lucas know it. They marvelled at the rings you showed them before you flew out on this short break with Ste a couple of days ago.
But Ste doesn't know. As far as he is concerned this trip to Spain is like the others; a chance to relax and enjoy each other's company without the stresses of day to day life...
He walks into the kitchen of your family's holiday home in his swimming trunks from the outdoor swimming pool dripping water onto the marble tiles with every step. He lazily rubs a towel over his tanned body as he approaches you with bare feet and a broad grin.
"That smells nice. Are you auditioning for a job at the bistro?"
"Maybe." You grin at him then look through the glass of the oven. Your culinary skills have improved no end since being with him but even you have to admit that the lemon soufflé dessert is a gamble. "Enjoy your swim?"
"Um hum." He says. "You should have joined me. It's lovely out."
You observe him. Your man. Cute as a button but fiery. Head strong and determined. Caring beyond belief. Sexy yet coy at the same time. You fucking adore every aspect of him.
"Marty, you are looking at me funny." He says with concern.
"Am I?" You say and smile at him. "It's your fault for looking so good."
He blushes, drops his towel and strides up to you circling his arms around your waist.
"You don't look so bad yourself." He places small gentle kisses on your bare torso, over your heart and up to your neck.
"Ugh." You fake disgust. "You are all wet."
He grins cheekily and shakes his head briskly from side to side spraying water all over you from his hair like a shaggy dog trying to dry itself after an unwanted bath.
He looks up at you defiantly. "Oops."
"And you've got the floor all slippery." You mumble as you scan down to his tempting lips.
"And yet still you love me." He says and runs his wet hands over your back over and over again, like tactile meditation.
You smile at him. "I must be mad. Maybe I should see a shrink!"
"Oi!" He pushes you away in mock affront but you pull him back to you and trap his lips to yours. That is how irresistible he is to you. You play your fingers over his body as your tongues battle and you push into each other, your bodies slipping and sliding together. You curl a hand inside his trunks and give his delectable arse a squeeze.
The sexy fucker pushes back into your palm wriggling enticingly. He has already forgotten about lunch. His hunger has been redirected elsewhere. You pull away reluctantly, give him one quick kiss then place a finger on his moist mouth.
"Lunch first." You say firmly. "Could you crack open that bottle of champers, please?"
He looks dazed for a second then picks up the magnum of champagne on the kitchen counter and whistles softly. "This is the good stuff. What's the occasion?"
"Does there need to be one, mi amor?" You give him a wink. He laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He pops the cork and pours the crisp amber liquid into two tall flutes.
You clink your glasses and say, "Salud!" before taking a sip.
He sighs in appreciation. "I'll get changed."
"No. You look great the way you are. Come on."
You walk him round to a corner of the garden carrying your plates while he carries the drinks.
The sky is blue and clear. The weather is warm and the odd sound of nature disturbs the relative quiet of the location.
You take your seats and Ste starts to eat. He compliments you on your culinary efforts.
He is chatty as always and talks about everything that comes to mind; some local newspaper interview he is going to do for PECKISH! when you get back to Chester, the kids, the 'amazing' coffee shop he discovered on La Rambla, the fact that he is thinking of rearranging your bedroom at home and what your plans should be tonight.
You listen to him and smile. You could listen to him all day.
"Seriously, babe. Are you okay?" He asks you.
"Yeah. Why?"
"You are acting weird. You aren't talking. You aren't eating."
He points at your practically full plate.
"I'm alright." You reassure.
He sniffs the air lightly. "What's that smell?"
You sniff as well. "Shit!"
You run towards the kitchen and throw the oven open. Your burnt soufflés come into view through a cloud of smoke.
"Fuck!"
Stephen looks at them from over your shoulder as you take them out and place them on the cooker.
"They're burnt." He says, pointing out the obvious.
"Yeah, thanks." You mutter. You feel almost as deflated as they look.
"It doesn't matter." He says as he wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your back. "It was a nice thought and it means we can get naughty now instead of later."
You turn to face him and lift an intrigued eyebrow at him. "Yeah? How does that work exactly?"
"Well..." He runs a finger over the waistband of your shorts. "We will start kissing and stuff, here for example, and then you'll get me all worked up. And I'll get you all worked up, too."
"Really? How?" You play innocent.
"You know! I'm not going to say!" He buries his head into your chest shyly for a second then looks at you through his long lashes. "Then you'll carry me to the bedroom or maybe the living room-"
"Carry?" You grin.
"Yes. Carry." He says emphatically.
"Okay. How about I carry you outside?" You whisper.
"Uh. No. Don't think so. I'm not an exhibitionist, Marty." He blushes.
"Qué lástima!" You sigh. What a pity.
"What will the neighbours say?" He grins. "Can you imagine Señora Carillo's face?"
"Joder a los vecinos!" You say in fluent Spanish. Fuck the neighbours!
"I love it when you speak Spanish!" He bites at your chin.
"I know you do."
"Maybe we can do it on the patio." He whispers into your ear before licking your lobe and nibbling on it.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He says as you get more entangled with him. "As long as she can't see us."
You laugh lightly. "Who knows? Mrs. Carillo might like the show!"
"Ew!" He crinkles his nose and pulls away from you.
He grabs hold of the cooling soufflés with a cloth. "Let's get rid of these first."
"No!"
"What?"
You think on your feet. "Don't throw away the ramekins!"
"I wasn't going to. I was going to scoop the soufflés out and put the ramekins in the dishwasher."
"Right."
He looks at you curiously. "Jeez! There is something up with you today."
Fine. This has gone to pot. Nothing has gone the way you hoped. You decide that you may as well make the best of a bad situation and give him a big spoon.
"Scoop away." You mumble.
He looks at you strangely then takes the spoon. He scrapes the contents of one burnt soufflé out into a bag on the counter then begins to do the same to the other until he hits something solid at the bottom of the ceramic bowl. He frowns as he picks it up with his fingers wincing slightly at the heat.
He looks at the hint of gold covered by burnt rubbish. He brushes the soufflé aside and stares at you with shock as the object is revealed in its entirety.
"What's this?" He asks you like an accusation.
"A ring." You say feeling nervous all of a sudden.
"Yeah, I get that."
"It's for you." You say.
"Huh?"
You remember what little 'princess' Leah ordered you to do at this point in your proposal.
'It will be like a fairytale, uncle Marty!' She had exclaimed with glee.
So you get down on one knee, take the ring from Ste and take both his hands in yours just like his nine year old daughter demonstrated to you.
"Oh my God!" He gasps and covers his mouth with a soufflé caked hand when what is happening dawns on him.
"Ste," you say and clear your throat. You look up at him and the speech you planned disappears out of your head.
"I love you and this was supposed to go so much smoother than this." You say.
He gives you a gentle smile.
"Anyway, the soufflé was a bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking. I wanted to impress you, I guess."
"You have."
His smile is like a thousand rays of sun hitting you. He gives you his left hand encouragingly and you start to place the ring on his fourth finger.
"Hang on." You whisper and stop your action. "I haven't asked the question yet."
"What's the question?" He grins.
"Will you do me the honour of marrying me?" Your heart is in your mouth as you wait for his answer.
He pushes the ring firmly onto his finger and studies his hand curiously, watching the reflection of the sun off it.
"Ste?"
He kneels down in front of you and kisses you. "Yes, Marty! I'll marry you."
XOXO
Present Day (Day 2)...
You get back to your hotel just before one am thinking about your encounter with Nicole and Paddy a few moments ago. You are sure that they will tell Brendan that they met you. You hope that they will mention the fact that you are engaged to Ste. It may prompt the Irishman to keep away especially since your relationship with Ste is showing cracks for the first time now. You don't want him taking advantage of this hiccup to swoop in and take Ste away.
You creep into your hotel room. Ste is fast asleep, curled up in one of your t-shirts. It swamps him and makes him look smaller than he is.
You look at him and sigh. Your love for him hasn't faded but doubts of his feelings for you have surfaced.
How are you going to move forward from this? You know you want to but you want assurance from Ste that you are the only man occupying his heart.
You strip down and put on some tracksuit bottoms before slipping into bed with him.
The dip caused by your weight wakes him up. He looks startled by your presence as if he is witnessing a ghost. He opens his mouth and you know that an apology is on his lips. You don't want to hear it so you shake your head. His words won't make anything better right now.
Him being present with you will.
He looks at you with wide 'bambi' eyes that look a second away from shedding tears. You gently caress his cheek and stare at him. For the first time in almost five years he doesn't feel one hundred percent yours.
He grips your hand in his and holds it tight. It feels like he is trapping you to him, scared to let you go.