I'm not sure what it was that made me tell him everything. I think he knew exactly how to play me in the situation in order to find out what he wanted to know. I'd like to think it is because he genuinely cares.
I'd taken the cigarette and smiled in the knowledge that somewhere Ivo would be doing the same and both of us were trying to hide it from the other. He was constantly chiding me for having no will power to quit and I would smirk at him, thinking of the cigarette packet in his sock drawer.
Martin had insisted that I have some of the whiskey he kept in his office 'for times like these'. He said it would calm my nerves. Everyone always seemed to want to calm me.
It had taken close to an hour for me to tell him what had happened because I kept leaving parts out and having to double back on myself for it to make any sense at all. Admittedly I was drawn in by his over dramatic reactions to the smallest details. It felt nice having someone on my side as he sighed and gasped throughout my monologue.
Even as I spoke of Isabel, Martin never once gave me his trademark look of disappointment. He had been a close friend of Ivo's for years and suddenly it felt wrong to tell him about what I had done and what a stupid boy I had been. He never made me feel guilty and I suppose that's what made me feel worse.
I had stopped when it came to the part about about hurting Ivo and there had been an uncomfortable silence as Martin undoubtedly imagined the worst.
"It's alright Tim," he had soothed. I felt like I was in some sort of trance where my natural reaction was to do as I was told even if it would have been best not to. I told him about leaving Ivo on that god-forsaken Island and that's when I couldn't hold back any longer. Thinking about it dredged up all the emotions that I had tried to run from and I couldn't handle them all in one go.
Martin pulled me up from the chair into a hug and the shock of it made me stop crying. The only other person who ever hugged me was Ivo and when he did it was possessive and for the most part sexual. Hugging Martin was different. It was comforting and I relaxed into it, feeling unsteady on my feet from the alcohol.
After a few moments he released me with an uncomfortable cough and I backed away, afraid I had done something wrong. After that it all became very rushed as he called me a taxi and handed me more money than was necessary with the assurance that we would talk again the next day.
When I had reached home I went straight to bed, barely acknowledging Ivo in the front room. He would probably smell the cigarette smoke and whiskey off me and I knew I would be told off for it but I pushed it from my mind and fell asleep.