Hi Folks,
Thank you for all the comments. I am so very touched by them especially given that this fanfic has so little light relief. It is pretty much chapter after chapter of bad news and angst, isn't it?
Oh well, here's more!
Chips x
xoxo
Extract from Stephen Hay's Patient File...
Emergency department Report for Mr Stephen Hay- Chester Police Department
Patient: Stephen Hay
Date of Birth: Unknown (Age 20 years according to witness)
Address: 28 Fern Street, Hollyoaks
Next of Kin: Amy Barnes (Friend)
Statement of events by Dr. Chris Konaides
The following is my statement of event and is written to the best of my recollection and with review of the patient in question's notes. I was the registrar on call on the night that Mr Hay was admitted to the emergency department via ambulance with multiple traumas, unconscious with a probable history of abduction.
On admission, he was unconscious. Paramedics inserted a Guedel airway and he was maintaining saturations of 95% on air but with a raised respiratory rate. His cervical spine was secured. He had marked contusions to his left chest wall and suspected rib fractures on the same side. He was haemodynamically stable following fluid resuscitation by paramedics. He was only responding to pain at this stage but his pupils were equal and reactive to light.
He was found to have a bleeding laceration on back of head- 6 cm length but no clinically evident base of skull fracture. His arms had multiple superficial lacerations. He had a fracture of the left wrist and bruises over his abdomen of unknown cause. On log rolling, his spine appeared intact. A rectal examination was not performed as blood was seen around the anus raising the possibility of rape. Forensic pathologists were called to collect samples in evidence. He had tibial and fibular fractures of his right leg and an ankle fracture on the left.
He was intubated in the emergency department to secure an airway. We ran a battery of blood tests including a toxicology screen. An initial head CT was normal but a repeat revealed a subdural haematoma requiring surgical evacuation under the neurosurgeons. X-rays also confirmed rib, wrist, leg and ankle fractures. Once stabilised the patient was taken to an orthopaedic theatre for internal fixation of his leg fracture before going to the intensive care unit.
Of note, whilst in the emergency department, I took a brief history from a man in his early to mid thirties with a moustache demanding to speak to whoever was dealing with My Hay. His relationship to the patient was unclear but he gave details of a next of kin as well as the patient's details. He left the emergency department soon afterwards so no further history could be obtained.
Summary of Diagnoses:
1) Concussion with scalp laceration- sutured.
2) Subdural haemorrhage and surgical evacuation
3) Fractured left wrist (distal radius) - plaster of Paris.
4) Fractured left lower leg (Tibia and fibula) - for internal fixation.
5) Fractured malleolus right leg- for plaster of Paris.
6) Fractured left ribs (sixth and seventh) - analgesia and chest physiotherapy.
7) Rectal mucosal damage and anal laceration- for STI screening as probable unprotected violation. Forensics review completed.
8) Laceration to chest and arms- cleaned and dressings administered.
XOXO
You are in your office at home looking at the sheet of paper using your non-dominant hand. The muted sounds of the party going on in your house filter down the corridor and through the heavy wooden door. You can hear Ste giggling away, probably surrounded by his mates.
All of a sudden the door swings open and you turn around.
"Mate, are you coming to join the party or what?" Peter says as he wheels in, uninvited.
You hide the hospital statement you were reading behind your back and say, "Yeah, sure. In a minute."
"What are you doing?" He asks, craning his head round to see what is in your hand.
"Oh." You wave the document at him. "This? Work. Had to do something before it slipped my mind."
"How did you get that fracture?" He asks, eyeing up the splint encasing your right hand.
"Fall."
He looks at you knowingly. "It's not called a boxer's fracture for nothing." He studies you closely. "Drunken night brawl?"
You shrug.
"You alright, mate? You're looking, I don't know. On edge." He says.
"Yeah. Fine. Just tired. Bloody work trips."
"Yeah?" He comes further into the room. "How was Dublin?"
It is a weighted question. There are reasons for him to wonder. His former best friend lives there and he shared your concerns over Ste returning back to the city that he had grown fond of during his relationship with Brendan.
"We haven't had a chance to catch up since you guys got back, have we?" He says.
"It was predictably shit." You summarise.
He lifts an eyebrow so you expand.
"Ste and I fell out." You perch on the edge of your desk. "We bumped into Brendan at a restaurant in the centre and he freaked out."
His eyes widen. "What?"
"It was like he was getting flashbacks again." You say.
"What happened?" Pete says.
You don't know how to reply to that. You are hardly going to tell him about Ste's Freudian slip during sex.
"Seeing Brendan and being in Dublin stirred up memories for him, I guess."
You rub your head, trying to clear it of the headache you have had since leaving Dublin.
"What kind of memories?" Pete asks.
"He thought he still loved Brendan."
"But everything is okay between you guys, right?" He stares at your engagement ring. "You guys are solid."
"Yes. 'Course."
XOXO
Six days ago (Dublin)...
You are standing outside VIBE. Ste is in front of you, his eyes bloodshot, dressed in that suit that you love him in and holding a wilted bouquet of flowers. It is an odd gift. Not something you would expect from him. An afterthought?
Nicole and Toby look on, reminders of your alcohol-fuelled kiss moments ago. You wish they would disappear. The kiss meant nothing. It was stupid. Maybe you did it because Toby was there when Ste wasn't and showed you affection when you were sure Ste didn't care.
You wish you could erase your mistake.
Not that you dwell on it at this moment with the man you love standing before you. You crush him to you. Smelling his scent and wrapping your arms around him.
Ste came and you have no intention of letting him go any time soon.
You should have never doubted him.
"I'm sorry." You whisper. For the kiss. For not believing in him.
Ste gives you a confused look. "It's me who should say sorry. I was living in the past and I dragged you there with me. I should have known that what I needed was right here all along."
He reaches into his pocket and extracts a gold band. "So this time, I'll do the proposing. Martin McCallister. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?"
There is sadness in his eyes that you cannot understand. You know him like the back of your hand. He has been crying. Something is on his mind. You look around and notice that Nicole and Toby have gone. It is just you and him so you can speak freely.
You hold his hands in yours. "Is that what you really want? To be with me?"
He nods. "More than anything."
"Then why are you so upset?" You ask.
You touch a finger to his face prompting him to do the same. He registers the tears there with surprise as if he hadn't realised he was crying.
"Do we have to talk about it now?" He whispers at you. Why? What the fuck has happened?
Your heart leaps with concern. "Yes. Marriage proposals are supposed to be happy occasions. Maybe a few tears of joy." You give him a small smile as you gently wipe his cheeks with your thumbs. "Not these. These are tears of sorrow."
He sniffs. "Sorry."
You form a theory that has your heart thudding painfully in your chest. "Did you see him again?"
Brendan.
"Yes." He clears his throat. "I, uh, I had supper at his apartment with him and his children. His son invited me."
You nod but you already feel your bond to Ste weaken. Did they reconnect and find common ground again? Build broken bridges?
"We... talked. A little."
"About?"
"About where he is now in his life. About the bistro. About you. I mainly spoke to his sons."
"Is he with anyone?"
"No."
"And?"
"I went home at the end of the night." He shuts his eyes. "He kissed me."
There's your bond disintegrating further.
"He kissed you." You say slowly.
His watery eyes connect with yours. "I kissed him back. I don't know why."
"Because you like him."
"No! I broke it off. I walked away." He says emphatically. "I think its memories, you know. I remembered how he was."
He chews on his lips as if deciding whether to tell you more.
"He came to see me a few hours ago."
That throws you off.
"At the hotel?"
Ste nods.
What is Brendan playing at? Why was he looking for Ste, kissing him? What the fuck?
"Why?" You ask. Was he trying to get back with Ste; steal him from under your nose?
"He isn't the man I thought he was. He made that clear tonight."
"Did he do something to you?"
His cheeks pink up under the street lights. He buries his face into your chest. You don't get his reaction but you know about Brendan and the violence at the beginning of their relationship. Amy told you. Even Ste has admitted it. Your hands ball into fists.
"Ste? Did he touch you?"
"Um... No." He mumbles into your chest after some time then looks up at you. He inhales and exhales slowly. "He did me a favour, I guess. He told me the truth about what happened."
Huh?
He suddenly and unexpectedly crumbles into a fit of crying the like you have never seen from him. Ever. It is as if his soul is being ripped to shreds. You pull him close, gripping him as you feel his shudders; his body expressing emotional pain.
"It was his fault, Marty."
You barely understand what he is saying through his gasps and tears.
"What was?"
"This!" He shouts and pushes you away to grip the back of his head, then his previously broken wrist before beating a closed fist into his chest. "What happened to me!"
"I don't understand-"
"He told me!" He is shaking with anger and hurt. "No! He didn't even have the decency to do that! He wrote it down for me to find when I-"
He stops abruptly closing his hand over his mouth; physically preventing himself from saying another word.
"When you what?"
He shakes his head and wipes his tears dry on his sleeve. He calms down and then reaches into his trouser pocket.
He passes you a picture of himself. The Ste staring at you from the well-thumbed tatty photo is someone you have never met; with completely unblemished skin revealed in the tee-shirt and shorts he is wearing. He is young, too. You would be surprised if he was a day older than twenty in it. The innocence radiating from him is almost difficult to swallow given that you know what happens to him only a few short years later.
"Who took this?" You ask.
"Ames but she gave it to Bren years ago." He turns it around in your hand and points at the writing on the back.
I am sorry, Stephen.
6 years ago. My fault. My guilt. For £50,000
"Brendan wrote this?" You ask.
"Yes." He whispers.
Your mind thinks fast. You pool everything you know together.
"Let me get this straight." You say to Ste slowly as you feel rage bubbling up. "Your kidnapping had to do with Brendan somehow. The fifty thousand pounds was what, ransom money? Money that he owed? Money he stole?"
Your hands ball into fists. You are crushing Ste's picture in your hand without realising. Fifty thousand measly pounds was the price Brendan had put on Ste's life. You want to confront him. Tell him to stay the fuck away from Ste and stop ruining his life and to get him to tell you the truth about exactly what happened so that Ste can finally get some closure.
£50,000.
That amount reminds you of another pot of cash...
xo
Five years ago...
"Bit weird that, innit?" Ste says to you when the inheritance lawyer comes knocking. "Out of the blue. 50K."
"Yeah."
"What do you think I should do?"
"It all checks out and it's not a bad lump sum of money to have in your back pocket for a rainy day."
"Yeah. I suppose."
xo
Present day (six days ago)...
You have to speak with Peter when you get back to Hollyoaks. He was the one that helped with mediation when it came to Ste receiving his inheritance money. There is a chance he might know of a link between that money and the kidnapping?
"Martin." Ste grabs your face in his hands to get your attention. You are both still outside the club in Dublin.
"Yeah." Your drunkenness is lifting slowly. At least now you are coherent.
"I was an idiot for even thinking I still had feelings for Brendan." Ste shuffles up closer to you so that nothing separates you. "I didn't. I don't. I love you with all my heart."
He grins at you and it is sincere so you find yourself grinning back.
He grips your left hand and places your ring at the tip of your left finger.
"So what do you say?" He asks looking at you expectantly. "Will you make an honest man of me?"
"I kissed Toby." You say.
Fucking hell. What did you say that for? Pure self-sabotage. Sometimes you hate that you cannot lie.
You wait for Ste to storm off. He is a relationship purist. He will not understand why you kissed you ex. You don't get why except that you were angry, upset and shit-faced.
"Do you love him?" He asks. His tears have dried up. There is a flicker of something in his eyes that is gone as quickly as it appears.
"No. I love you." You say.
Is he going to forgive you?
"Then that is all that matters. Anything else is just noise. As long as we love each other. As long as we are true to each other from now on."
There is a smile that forms on his lips. His deep blue eyes open up to you. There is the beginning of that sparkle he gets when he is giddy with joy. He lifts an eyebrow at you as he pushes the ring onto your fourth finger without waiting for your reply.
Cheeky.
"You do know that you are supposed to wait until the person says yes first?" You feel the twitch of a smile on your lips.
He gives you a coy look. "But I always get my way especially when I..."
He leans up and gives you a kiss that does a good job of erasing a lot of angst and pain. He curls his fingers round the back of your head and deepens it. You forget, in an instant, how close you came to drawing a line under this five year journey together. He sighs as he kisses his way from your mouth down the angle of your jaw to your neck.
He sucks at the sensitive skin there just the way you like it and you swallow a groan then say,
"Bribery doesn't work on me, Ste." You give him more room to tongue you.
He smiles then goes for your lips again.
"No?" He purrs when you push him away to come up for air.
"No." You mumble.
"But I think it has because the ring is still on your finger."
You smile because he is right.
You pull away to look down at your accessorised finger. There your ring is; back where it belongs. You thumb it and grin at him, slyly.
"Sneaky. Mr McCallister-Hay. Very sneaky."
"Is that a 'yes' then?" He chews on his lower lip, nervously.
You pull him to you by his hips.
"How could it ever be a 'no'?" You kiss his forehead.
xo
You can't sleep only this time it isn't because you are in a strange bed or because you and Ste are at loggerheads.
The two of you are back on track.
He is by your side, asleep, arm flung across your chest and snoring softly. His warm firm body is flushed with colour and vitality. His cheeks are red from your stubble, lips swollen from your kisses, arsehole full of your cum; the aftermath of your reconciliation.
You should feel spent but Brendan is on your mind. Swirling around.
He kissed Ste and then he came looking for him again. He was trying to reconnect with your fiancé. But then why did he confess the truth of his involvement in Ste's abduction? He must have known that would push him away.
You get out of bed. It is an unusually tropical night; the kind where thin bed sheets feel too heavy on the skin. You throw on a t-shirt and jeans and slip into a pair of flip-flops then look over at Ste. He is still fast asleep so you pick up his phone.
You run through his messages. There are none from Brendan but two sent from his son, Declan.
One was sent two days ago.
10.17 am. From Declan Brady:
Great to see you yesterday. Lasagne was killer. Sorry I didn't give you that lift back to the hotel but had to leave while you were sleeping. I'm sure dad sorted you out. Hope to catch up with you soon. Don't be a stranger, stranger.
Dec.
Ste slept at Brendan's and was alone with him for some time. He didn't say but his reply is reassuring.
10.35 am. To Declan Brady:
I got a taxi back to the hotel in the end. It was good to catch up with you and Paraic. I can't believe how grown up you are (and you've ditched the Bieber haircut!) Good luck with the rest of your vet course and all the best in the future,
Ste.
Good. He didn't even mention their father. You scroll down to the next message from Declan. It was only sent a few hours ago. It must have been while you were still at VIBE. Ste hasn't replied back to it.
22.05 pm. From Declan Brady:
Ste, I don't want to pester you. I know how difficult dad can be and I have figured out that he probably did something terrible six years ago that has made you really angry with him. I am not going to justify his actions, since I don't even know what they are, but I have grown to understand the way his brain works and, in the world of Brendan Brady, dad probably thought he was doing the right thing.
I really hope you guys make peace with each other. My dad needs a special friend right now.
Number 4. The Oaks. Clyde Road. Dublin. Nr. Herbert Park.
Deccy
You key the address into your phone and put Ste's phone where you found it.
You slip out of the hotel room after a quick glance at your better half. You'll be back in time for your flight in the late morning but you have some last minute business to attend to.
XOXO
Present Day...
"Pete. Remember the opening of PECKISH!?"
"What about it?"
"The next day you told me that the reason Brendan left Ste wasn't because he was tired of their relationship."
Pete looks nervous at the subject matter. "Mate, why are we talking about this now?"
"You told me the real reason for Brendan dumping Ste was that he wanted to protect him from his enemies and felt responsible for the abduction. Remember."
He wipes his brow and says, "It's your bloke's birthday party. Can we discuss this some other time? You have to get the cake out soon."
"No." You say firmly. "See I should have pushed further but when you assured me that the kidnapping wasn't Brendan's fault I let it drop. I trusted you."
He looks to the floor.
"So what is the truth?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"Because you used to be best friends and now you don't talk at all. By all accounts the shift coincided with Ste's abduction."
"Look, there were many reasons why Bren and I fell out, Marty. Don't presume to-"
You slam you hand left, unbroken hand on the desk to shut him up. You aren't an aggressive guy but there has been a lot of shit recently that has wound you up.
"Don't patronise me, Peter! I know you are hiding something and I want some answers. I know you lied to me because I know that Brendan was involved in the kidnapping. That is why he felt guilty. What I want to know is what he did."
"Brendan told you he was involved?"
"As good as."
You show him the hospital statement you were looking at when he came into the office.
He reads it quickly and you ask,
"The guy the doctor refers to at the end is Brendan, isn't it? What was he doing at the hospital within hours of Ste's admission? How did he know Ste was admitted that soon?"
"Come on, Marty." He says.
"Jesus, Pete." You say angrily as you walk up to him determinedly. "I am going to marry a man whose life has been in limbo because six years ago something happened to him that he doesn't understand. Can't begin to understand. He has had to try so hard to move on from something that appeared so senseless. If you have been withholding information that could have helped Ste see sense in what happened so that he could properly come to terms with it, so help me, Pete..."
You barely hear him he is so quiet. "You can't ever repeat what I am about to tell you. Not to Ste or Amy."
You sit back into your chair because you have a feeling that what you are about to hear won't be easy to swallow.
He tells you the story of a man called Warren Fox, Brendan's archenemy. How this man took advantage of Ste's and Brendan's relationship to take back money that he thought Brendan stole from him. How Ste was kidnapped and taken to a barn where he stayed for two days while Brendan frantically tried to raise capital. How the volume of money was hard to come by within the short timescale set by Warren. How eventually Peter and Brendan followed him out of town and to a barn where they discovered Ste in the state that you know he was found by paramedics.
Peter tells you how there was a second man involved. A man that Brendan killed for the injuries inflicted on Ste, out of love and a unilateral quest for revenge. Pete tells you that he became a de facto accomplice by staying loyal to his friend and keeping quiet about his crime.
xo
"We reckon Warren fled to the States to avoid Brendan and criminal justice. He sold his shares of the club to a silent partner within weeks. I think the police investigated him but came to a dead end.
"I didn't hear from Bren for two weeks. Ste was no longer in a critical condition at this point. When I finally spoke to him and mentioned his name, Bren went ballistic. Said he didn't care anymore and didn't want to know. I couldn't believe how heartless he was. He had seen the state Ste was in. It was horrific.
"He told me he was going back to Dublin and I told him that he was being a twat for leaving his boyfriend. That is when he told me why.
"He asked that I do him one last favour before he left. He had managed to get the £50,000 total that Warren had demanded even after he didn't need to. He said that although it in no way compensated for what Ste had suffered he wanted Ste to have it.
"He told me that he didn't expect me to understand his actions just to execute his wishes. There is no dead aunt but you knew that, didn't you? Brendan gave Ste that money."
xo
It was as you suspected but there was a further question that needed answers; one that would define how much blame lay at Brendan's feet.
"Did Brendan provoke Warren by stealing his 50K?" You ask and hold your breath waiting for a reply.
"He told me that Ste was working like a dog all the time, just about making ends meet. He wanted to help him."
"Did he take the 50K?" You repeat.
Peter looks at you and nods. "Why do you think I don't speak to him anymore?"
XOXO
Six days ago...
The taxi finds the converted low-rise building that Brendan's apartment is situated in easily. It is in a very affluent looking part of town.
Your timing could be better. It is 2 am. Not acceptable for a 'school night' but needs must.
When you ring the bell marked BRADY it takes a few minutes for a response.
"It's Martin." You say. "Ste Hay's fiancé."
A long pause follows, filled by barely audible breathing then a grunt and a buzzing sound that signifies the main gate unlocking to let you in.
"Lift to the top." Brendan says over the intercom as you close the gate behind you. His tone makes you wonder whether he was expecting you.
When you get to his landing his apartment door is already open.
You walk through it and straight into an open plan space that is so slick and avant-garde that it makes the enviable house you share with Ste in Chester look like a rundown cottage.
"Hello."
You snap your head round to see Brendan perched at a bar in the living area on a stool. His is holding a whiskey glass in his hand that he raises up to you as you approach him. He drops a black cloth that he was holding in his hand onto the floor.
"Whiskey?" He offers.
You shake your head and stay standing once you get to him. You get the impression that he hasn't been to bed yet.
"Please sit."
"I prefer to stand." You say tightly.
"Suit yourself." He gives you a slow grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "You know, I wondered whether the two of us would get a chance to kick back and have a chat."
"I am not here to compare notes about Ste."
"No? Pity. There is so much to say about him, don't you think?" His eyes are heavy. His words are slightly slurred. You are not the only one buzzing on alcohol. "Nice things. Just nice things to say."
"Es lindo." You say, recalling how Ste looked in his sleep before you left him a few minutes ago.
"Excuse me?"
"He's cute."
He smiles and this time it is annoyingly genuine. "Yes."
You stare at him.
"You know what, I will take that whiskey." You take the stool next to him and watch him pour you a healthy shot of poison.
You take a sip.
There is something about this man that you missed when you bumped into him at the Italian restaurant on your first day in Dublin and that everybody failed to convey to you when they talked about him.
Brendan has presence. He commands attention simply by being. There is something fascinating about him even when he is virtually still as he is now. He is handsome. Sure in his actions. You see what Ste was drawn to.
You drink together in silence. A sip off. Your eyes locked with one another's. Once you are done you look around you. Your eyes settle on framed pictures on the wall in front of you; portraits of people he knows. You identify Nicole and Brendan's sister. You also recognise Paddy, the guy from the club and Declan, Brendan's son. You assume the other kid is his younger son. And there is Pete. He is there despite their estrangement but Ste isn't.
"I take it this isn't a social call." He says.
"No."
"Stephen all tucked up in bed?"
You bristle at that reference. Only you get to have that visual.
"Why don't we skip the pregnant pause and get down to business. I hear one of us has a plane to catch." He cocks his head to one side and lifts an eyebrow at you.
You lean close to him. "I want to know what you are playing at."
He leans in too so that your foreheads are practically touching. "You are going to need to be more specific, buddy."
"Why did you kiss Ste?"
He goes stock still for a moment and generates a little distance between you again. "He told you."
"Yes."
"What else did he spill?"
"That you went to see him at our hotel room earlier tonight."
"Good old, Stephen. Can't keep a secret." There is no remorse. No regret. No apology. "Did he tell you what happened?"
No, Ste hasn't told you the specifics but you know how it ended, with Brendan leaving him devastated after giving him that scribed photo.
"This." He mimics a massive explosion by unclasping a fist and matching it up with a sound. "Snap. Crackle. Pop."
You can imagine how heated things must have got when Brendan revealed he was to blame for everything.
He pours himself another drink and downs the whole lot. You decline his silent offer of another shot. You need to keep your wits about you.
"Do you want him back?" You say.
It takes a moment before he replies, "No."
"I could understand if you did. He's special."
"I don't." He insists slowly.
"That's good then because tonight he re-proposed to me." You lean on the bar and turn to look at him. You are sticking the knife in. You want him to bleed.
"Re-proposed? How does that work exactly? Should I congratulate you twice?"
"I don't need your congratulations."
"Then we have nothing more to say to each other. You have him, right? Back in your arms. He hates me. He loves you. To the victor go the spoils. No need to thank me."
That enrages you. You get on your feet.
"Why would I ever need to thank you for Ste?"
"Because I showed him that you should be his first pick." He says and gives you a smile so smug that your fist automatically flies out to connect with his jaw.
The crack of bone in your hand and the pain causes you to wince but you are too fired up with adrenaline to dwell on it. Besides, you have managed to throw Brendan clean off his stool so that he is in a heap on the floor, shaking his head to clear it and touching a split lip.
He looks up at you in shock. You recognise the black cloth that he dropped when you came in as Ste's Chez Chez t-shirt that he parcelled of five long years. What the hell was he holding it for?
You sneer at him. "I don't need your help to show Ste that I am better than you are. I don't beat my boyfriend. I care for him and I tell him. I show him. I do stuff for him because I want to. I don't care what the world thinks. I am willing to declare that I love him to anyone who will listen because I am not embarrassed by him or by what we have. I didn't need you to keep him."
Your accent has thickened with anger.
"That's what you think, Braveheart." He mumbles as he slowly gets to his feet.
"You nearly killed him, you smug arsehole!" You clutch him by his collar with a tight fist using your uninjured left hand. You are taller than him by three or so inches and broader. "If it wasn't for you what happened to him wouldn't have happened! I don't know how you sleep at night. You are a vile creature, Brendan! You are marked by Ste's blood!"
You bend to pick up Ste's old bloodied t-shirt.
"This is your doing!" You throw it at him. It clings to his t-shirt.
He takes it with both hands and surprises you with the care he takes with it; folding it carefully before resting it on his chest. When he looks at you his eyes are sombre but determined.
"You are right." He says eventually. "I went to see Stephen tonight because I wanted to try it on with him. I remember your fiancé, you know, every part of him. After seeing him in Secondo's I wanted him back but he didn't want to know. He told me how much he loves you." He sways slightly on his feet and you wonder whether it is fatigue or alcohol. He sits down on a stool again and props himself up on the bar. "He told me to piss off out of his life. That is why I left him that message. I was wrathful. I wanted to hurt him as much as it hurt me to know that he didn't want me and I couldn't have him."
You are taken aback by his candour.
"So you can drop the Neanderthal act. There is nothing I can offer Stephen that you can't." He touches his swollen, bleeding lip. "And there is plenty you can give him that I never could. There is no competition. You are the outright winner."
You take a moment to assimilate what he is saying. The throb in your right hand is increasing now that the rush of adrenaline is fading.
You stare at the injury you have inflicted on his face.
"Sorry about the lip."
"It'll heal. I have a date with a stranger tomorrow at three, though. That may take some explaining."
You nod. He has moved on already. You are in no doubt that someone like Brendan will be absolutely fine.
"Okay. I'm going to go."
"Sure."
You make your way towards the door and out of his life.
XOXO
PresentDay...
"Come on, mate." Pete says. "Before Ste and Ames send out a search party."
"Ste deserves to know the whole truth." You say.
"No he doesn't." Pete shakes his head. "What's the point? How is knowing that Bren made a big mistake that nearly cost Ste his life going to make Ste feel any better. It will just drag him back to how he was. Remember? He was a mess, mate, and he has worked really hard to get to where he is now. If you tell him that the money he used to help set up PECKISH! came from Bren he will have a constant daily reminder that his workplace was built on blood money. His blood."
You think about what Pete says. Maybe he is right. Ste has moved on from Brendan. He has proved that to you by actively choosing you over him. Maybe that is enough and a chapter should be closed on his past; all its memories padlocked away and buried forever. It sits uneasily with you, though. It goes against your better judgement as a psychotherapist. Repression is never seen as an optimal way of coping with traumatic event.
Thankfully, for now you haven't got a chance to think on it further as Lucas runs into your office.
"Marty, can you tell Leah that-" He grinds to a halt when he detects the tension between you and Pete. His face has the drawing of a dinosaur on one cheek and a dragon spitting fire on the other.
"What are you guys both doing in here?" He says sceptically looking between the two of you; his 'step parents'.
Pete grins at him. "Why have you got face paint on?"
A change of subject. Nice.
"Yeah." You say with a matching smile. "I am pretty sure that when your mum said she was going to get a face painter for today, your exact words were 'No thanks mum, I'm nine years old now. I'm too grown up'!" You imitate the boy's voice.
Lucas quickly rubs one of his cheeks, smearing the dragon. "Oh yeah. True. Um, but this is Liam's fault. He dared me!"
"You're blaming your little brother?" Pete says in amusement. Liam is his son with Amy and Lucas's half-brother who recently turned three. "Who can barely speak?"
"I think the dinosaur looks cool." You say to Ste's boy.
Lucas tries to hide his grin in reaction to your compliment. Over the last few months the kid has been acting like he is too cool for just about everything. "It's lame but whatever. Dad's got one too."
You raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
He nods. "He has a two on one cheek and a seven on the other. Come check it out." He grabs your hand and starts dragging you out of the room. "You coming, Pete?"
"Yeah. It's nearly time to sing happy birthday, right?"
Lucas nods.
The three of you make your way to the living room whose double doors that lead to the garden are flung open to allow the party to spill out into the garden.
The surprise party wasn't much of a surprise in the end. Ste's suspicions were confirmed soon after your return to Chester when he caught you and Ames during a conversation where you were putting finishing touches on your plans on how to celebrate his twenty-seventh party. He binned your joint idea of a sophisticated adult only night out in favour of an inclusive party that the kids could also enjoy.
Since it was his special day he got what he wanted. That is why your house is teaming with children from Lucas's and Leah's school as well as friends of you and Ste's enjoying parallel parties. The children are outside taking advantage of the bouncy castle, balloon toy-making clown and face painter you hired while the adults are in the living room enjoying a Spanish themed fiesta complete with calimocho and sangria punch bowls and tapas, a nod to your mixed parentage.
Everyone seems to be having fun, especially the birthday boy, who is holding a glass of sangria in the far corner of the living room. The drink spills as he animatedly chats away using broad hand gestures and snorting a laugh here and there.
Right now he and Amy are shamelessly flirting with his former boss and friend, Chef Pierre, competing for his attention by showing him dance moves that probably look better in their heads than in reality. Pierre raises his eyebrows in bemusement, echoing you and Pete's expressions.
They both look tipsy. Ste looks adorable with his painted face. Amy has one too; a delicate rose that is draped across one side of her face from forehead to chin. They haven't noticed you yet. They are too busy busting moves that they will blush about later.
It is strange to see Ste drunk and a little out of control. He is always so together. You wonder what has possessed him to let go today; is this avoidance or just about relaxing and fun.
"Can I have some of the juice dad is having?" Lucas asks.
"No!" You and Pete say together.
Lucas pouts, reminding you of his father. "It has alcohol in it, doesn't it?"
"What?" You say as if you don't know what he means.
"No." Pete denies.
"So why are mum and dad acting so embarrassing?"
"They are having fun." Pete tells him cagily.
"Yeah." You agree. "Why don't you join your friends outside and have fun too?"
"Okay but can you tell Leah that she has to let me and my friends go on the castle too. She's not listening to me."
"Okay." Pete says.
"Give us a second though, yeah? We have to say something to your dad first."
Pete looks at you worriedly.
He nods and scampers off to join his friends.
"No, we can't." Pete says to you once the kid's out of earshot. "I thought you'd agreed not to tell Ste anything."
"Don't worry. I'm not going to tell him. Not today anyway. I have to think about it." You say as you watch Ste giggling with Amy. "I don't want to fuck up his birthday."
Pete nods and looks at Ste too. "He's drunk. He never gets drunk."
"Ames is drunk, too." You reply but it is telling that you aren't the only one to notice Ste's atypical behaviour. He likes to be in control so normally his barely consumes alcohol.
"I think your wife fancies chef." You say to Pete. The teasing is an olive branch.
"I think your fiancé likes him too." Pete retorts with a smile. "Look, maybe we should-"
He looks over at them dancing away in front of Pierre.
"Yeah." You say, reading his mind. Prise the booze from their sticky fingers before they totally embarrass themselves.
You approach them and they both throw you beaming smiles when they see you.
"Hey, darling!" Amy slurs as she leans down to give Pete a kiss.
"Marty!" Ste squeals, flinging his arms around you and kissing your jaw line. "This party is amazing, like, A-May-Zing! Have you tried the calamari yet?"
He holds his hands in yours and pushes himself into you starting a slow dance.
"No." You match his sway.
"It's delicious even though I say so myself. You should try it now."
"Yeah, you should." Amy echoes happily, pushing into your personal space.
"Um, 'scuse me Ames, I am having a moment with me fiancé." Ste says to his best friend. "So butt out, yeah."
You smile every time he calls you that out loud. Fiancé.
"Sorry!" She says with no remorse before turning to her husband to shimmy for him.
Ste rests his head against your chest. You grin then suddenly twirl him around twice. It elicits a whoop and a round of applause from your friends.
"Don't." He whispers into your torso when you settle him down. "That makes me feel dizzy."
His eyes look glazed in his flushed painted face so you say in amusement. "Yeah? That's because you drank too much."
"I haven't." He pouts.
You place your lips on his because he is delusional yet earnest; unbearably cute.
"Okay, George Best." You smile when he frowns at you.
"Just wanted to let loose for once." He mumbles with a lazy smile. "Where are the kids?"
"Outside. Having fun. Pete's going to check on them in a sec."
"Good. You having fun?"
"Yeah. Totally." You say but your mind automatically goes to your conversation with Pete moments ago.
He kisses your shirt over your heart then looks up at you. "Thanks. For everything."
You give him a wink as you run your hands over his back. "No problem."
"You know I've been thinking, yeah..." He says.
"Hurt much?" You quip.
"Ha. Not funny. I've been thinking that we should just do it, you know. Get married. Set a date soon and go for it."
"What's the rush?" Weddings take so much preparation.
"What's the point in waiting? We don't need something like what Ames and Pete had. I don't need the perfect white dress!"
"I don't know how Amy thought she could get away with it." You mumble and grin. "She had her kids right there carrying flowers and the rings and she was wearing pure white!"
"It was ivory." Ste says then grips your face in his hands. "My point is we don't need all that stuff. We just need our close friends, the kids and you and me."
"My ma is expecting something big, Ste. She has at least a dozen Spanish traditions that she wants us to respect."
He grins at you suddenly. "Shall we get away from the party for a bit?"
What a sharp change of subject.
"Why?"
"Private party." He whispers into your ear and smiles up at you pointedly.
Your eyes widen. "Why, Mr. Hay, you filthy man!"
He grins.
"During your own party?" You say incredulously.
He nods and looks up shyly at you through his lashes. "We'll be quick."
"But there are kids everywhere."
"We'll lock the door."
"Is this your way of getting me to say yes to a shotgun wedding?"
"Maybe. Will it work?"
You grin at him. "Let's find out!"
You salute at him then briskly walk out of the room in the direction of the flight of stairs that leads to your bedroom.
He is right behind you, trying to keep up. When you get to the top of the stairs you lift him over your shoulder and carry him into your room.
"I can walk you know!" He slurs merrily.
"Barely." You grin.
His phone starts ringing when you fling him onto the bed and you join him. You both ignore it. You assume it is either Pete or Amy telling you to stop being rude and unsociable and get down to join the party.
You help one another to take your clothes off quickly while pawing at each other and kissing every bit of exposed skin that you can get your lips on.
The phone keeps ringing. It is in his trousers on the floor near the bed. You try to continue to ignore it and lie on top of Ste, kissing him. Your hands disrupt the paint on his face as you trace your hands over it but it is hard to concentrate with the persistent ring tone that fills the air competing with your joint chorus of sighs and moans.
"Fucking phone." You mutter reaching out of the bed to get hold of it and turn the sound off but Ste stops you.
He pulls you back over him and grips your butt, pulling you to him as his legs encircle yours.
"Ignore it." He says. His tone is sharp and unexpectedly sober.
His hand grips your dick urgently as he looks at you with a feral expression that is determined and focussed. "And fuck me."
He kisses you and he melts against you. His body fits perfectly with yours, you think.
He pushes you off him then gently rolls away to reach for his phone. His body half hangs off the bed so that you get a good view of his pert behind.
"It's just Ames." He mutters over his shoulder before flicking the switch that turns the sound off and throwing it on the floor away from the bed. Then he grabs the lube on the side drawer and comes back to you.
"Yeah?" You say as you reach for him and pull him to you. "She can wait."
You are excited about your quickie. Who wouldn't be but there is something about Ste that is disconcerting. You don't want to admit it to yourself but there has been a shift in him that you can't put your finger on since getting back from Ireland. He is still attentive to you, caring, funny, and cute; everything you love about him. He still tells you he loves you but it doesn't sound the same to your ears. Are you being paranoid? He doesn't feel like he is here with you like he did before. It is as if there is a thin transparent sheet that coats him and makes him inaccessible.
You can't help but link this to him and Brendan. It makes you feel unsettled even though you know you don't have cause to be.
He loves you. End of.
He pours a generous amount of lube into his palm and jerks you off getting you harder than you already are.
You groan and try to pull him into a kiss but he turns away from you onto his side and backs up onto you, pushing his back into your chest and his arse against your groin. He rubs some lube onto his hole and then reaches back to guide your dick to his entrance.
He doesn't want to mess about today. He wants to get down to business straight away.
"Slow down, baby." You whisper but he ignores you. You bite down gently on his ear lobe as you feel the head of your dick slip into him.
"You want to slow everything down. The wedding. Now this." He groans and pushes down on you, engulfing you in his tight heat. Is that what this is about? His urgency to be with you smacks of desperation somehow.
Why?
Your arm circles around his waist as you plunge in deeper until you are fully seated in him. Spooning with a twist.
"I like to take my time with you." You whisper back and lick at his neck making him purr. "Sue me."
He starts moving first, driving his arse back onto you in smooth, languid circular gyrations that cause him to whimper. You forget the doubt in your mind as his fingers come up to comb through your hair.
"We have all the time in the world." He whispers as you begin to thrust into him, matching his gyrations.
Your eyes fall closed as you relish in the scent and feel of him; his short hair brushing against your chin, his short breaths pushing out of his lungs with each thrust, his warm skin becoming dewy with perspiration.
You open them again to catch sight of his phone on the floor blinking silently. Someone is still calling Ste. You can just about make out what the screen says.
BLOCKED
NUMBER
Who the fuck is unrelentingly trying to get hold of him? You can hazard a guess. No one that Ste knows here in England would come up as a blocked number on his phone.
Your mind goes to Brendan's son, Declan, who you met at that pub in Dublin. After all, he sent Ste that text message begging him not to ditch his father and to be his 'special friend'.
Ste read it on the day of your departure from Ireland as you waited in Dublin airport's departure lounge. You knew because his face suddenly dropped as he was checking his messages. His eyes became sad and red and his lips twitched with that strain that you knew came out of grief. He didn't answer you when you asked if he was okay. Instead he hid behind his sunglasses and deleted the message. He didn't speak to you for most of the flight home, faking sleep to avoid conversation. When you landed at John Lennon International Airport it was like he flipped a switch and the text message was forgotten. He looked at you, smiled and held your hand like he used; like you were his rock.
Anyway, you figured the caller was Declan which means Ste told you a barefaced lie when he said that it was Amy a few minutes ago. Has he been getting these calls before today? Has he ever answered them? Has he been keeping them secret from you?
"Marty." He groans and grips your arse to push you to him. "Come on."
You pull out and turn him over to reposition him on the bed so that he lies on his front and the phone is out of your eye line. You hold his hip tightly with one hand while the other pushes him down into the bed on his back transferring your weight onto him, pinning him down. He doesn't freak out like he would have done years ago at being trapped. Instead he parts his legs even more and voluntarily sticks his arse up in the air so that your cock sits in the clefts of his cheeks.
You wish you could get into his mind right now; find out what he is thinking. Is his mind on you alone or is he thinking about a past filled with another man that brought him equal parts of pleasure and pain?
You have never hurt Ste. Brendan has, deliberately; smacked him around, treated him like a dirty little secret and used words designed to cut deep. Yet Ste has gone back to him, like a moth to a flame, time and time again. You can't underestimate the power Brendan has over Ste no matter how much he messes Ste up.
You push your cock back into Ste forcefully getting a cry of pain and surprise from him. You expect him to scramble away from you, tell you to stop but he doesn't. You kiss his temple and the nape of his neck and he pushes back into you. You fuck him hard until you feel a sweat coming on. He moans while his hands grip the sheets, his teeth biting the pillow he is resting on and his toes curling. You reach round to feel his rigid cock and begin to pump it. His groans get so loud that you worry your guests might hear you. You cover him completely with your body and clamp a hand over his mouth then sink your teeth into his neck with more force than you intended to but he barely flinches. You feel the build up of a climax; your body goes tingly, your balls feel heavy as they slap against him. The sensation of your cock as it plunges into him makes you want to be where you are forever. When you find release you grasp him to you.
You are marking your territory.
Maybe he is right. Maybe you should just get married.
Soon.
You are breathless when you say,
"Okay. Fine. You have persuaded me but it can't be an elopement in Vegas. I still want to celebrate with family and friends. I want us to dance a seguidillas manchegas and I would like to give you arras matrimoniales. And we have to put our wedding bands on our right hands otherwise mum will freak out."
There is a low rumble of laughter as Ste turns over to look at you. His eyes are gleaming. "I understood like maybe half of what you said but we can do all of that if you want as long as it means we get hitched soon."
You smile. "Yeah. Okay."
He kisses you briefly then gets up and out of bed and picks up a towel. "We've got to get showered quickly. Otherwise Ames will come looking for us."
You stand up and follow him. The phone is still blinking away. You try grit your teeth and then blurt out,
"Ste, please just answer it and tell whoever the fuck it is to leave you the hell alone."