I totally misjudged this … misread him.
I thought our hanging out together … becoming close again … meant that he wanted me again.
I guess he doesn't.
He ends up holding me in his arms while I cry. We then go for a long walk around the village while I try to collect myself.
I ask if he wants to skip the trip, to go back home, but he says "no". He does want to spend time with me. And then he starts talking.
"Craig. I said I was angry. You don't know how stupid I felt … behaved … after you left me on that bus that day. Do you have any idea how it made me feel, ay? I mean, five years together just thrown away like that. And you just packed your things and left me … on a bus. And then it's what? A year? And you expect me to be ready to get back together? I mean, I'm glad you're back, don't get me wrong. Not just for Matthew, but for myself. You are … have always been … my best friend too, and I missed you like crazy while you were gone But I've moved on. I've had to. And I think we're done. As a couple, I mean."
That's when I see it.
It's there in his eyes.
The uncertainty.
He doesn't mean what he's saying.
I know that now!
It's back on…
again!
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
Amicable silence.
In fact, John Paul fell asleep and was soon resting his head on my shoulder.
It made me happy.
The hotel room is nice. We'll be sharing a bed for the first time in over a year. I didn't specify a twin room when I made the booking … didn't think of it … and neither of us raised the topic when we saw the double bed in the room.
I'm looking forward to it. Not that I'm expecting sex. No, to feeling his warmth next to me, the familiar shape, the smell of him. God, I've missed that, and I have to control myself as not to start crying just from thinking about it. It's like I finally realised how much I've missed him physically. No, again, not the sex part … well, that too … but what I'm talking about is the way that my body had missed him, not just my heart and my mind.
"So what do you think? Should we?" He looks at me expectantly as I realise that I've been lost in my own thoughts.
"Wha…?" I clear my throat, "Sorry, what did you say?"
He laughs.
"I was just suggesting that we'd go for a walk down to the beach, before having dinner. We could have some coffee or ice-cream if you'd like?"
"Sounds good," I nod my head, "Perhaps some chips would be good. I'm a bit peckish."
"Chips are good," He agrees. "Ready?"
It's not long before we've reached the shore. Barmouth is even more picturesque than I remembered. It's smaller than I recalled, too. Our hotel is only a fifteen-minute walk from the old town centre. The town is under a mountain and I feel a need to go hiking kicking in so I suggest that to John Paul, that we go 'mountain climbing' tomorrow. He looks in that direction and agrees. It'll be a nice day out.
"So no drinking tonight, I guess?" He adds.
"Well, we can have a pint or two, I'm sure," I argue before agreeing, "but you're right. No getting drunk, at least!"
"And I thought you were gonna try and have your wicked way with me, while I was under the influence," he jokes.
I laugh as I watch him, hopefully without being too obvious.
How can I reply to that?
How?
We stuck to it.
The couple of pints, I mean. We stayed out for a while before going back to the hotel. Then it was a lovely dinner before we found ourselves a table in one of the small and cosy pubs down by the main street.
An apparent hen-night came our way and we chatted with them a little. Okay, it's probably more correct to say that I chatted with them a little. John Paul mostly sat there looking at us, an amused look on his face. When I saw that he was about to finish his second drink I quickly emptied my glass and rose to my feet, asking him whether we should head back to the hotel.
He gave me a look which I interpreted as the question 'You're sure you don't want to stay longer and get to know them a little bit better?' and I just smiled back at him, slightly shaking my head in reply.
As he stood up and headed for the toilet I was certain I saw a relieved smile there.
But what do I know, ay? It's not like I've read the whole situation correctly.
So now we're here. Back in our hotel room. He's brushing his teeth and I'm just drying myself off after a quick shower. It's a bit hilly around here and I felt a little sweaty after the walk. Didn't want to smell badly throughout the night.
Yes, you're right. We're both in our bathroom, going about our business. Just like old times.
John Paul finishes up at the basin and then takes off the rest of his clothes and heads for the shower.
I can't help taking a peek.
He's still as beautiful as ever. Perhaps looking a little thinner than before. His skin tone hasn't changed, though, and my … and my, that bum … I have to avert my eyes and try to think about something else if I'm not gonna make the situation embarrassing.
Still, before I know it, I'm watching him
again.