Page 47 of Crying in the Rain
“So why does it?” Pip asked.
“I’ve no idea. I don’t want him. Like, if I was minted, I’d walk away right now, leave the apartment and everything in it so I never have to see him or listen to hisI love and miss youbullshit again. Then he can bring back whomever he likes, can’t he? Get down and dirty with his fruit-flavoured condoms in my bed because it won’t be mine anymore.”
“Yuck.” Pip shuddered. “I bet he left them on purpose.”
“Yeah, I thought that too, and I’m sick and tired of the games, Pip. I’m so, so done…”
“But…?”
“Why does it hurt so damn much?” Ade covered his eyes with his hand, disappointed with himself and ashamed for being so. “I’m such an idiot.”
“No. Look at me.”
Ade shook his head.
Pip reached up and moved his hand away, keeping hold of it, squeezing it. “Look at me, Ade.”
He peered through his lashes.
“You’re not an idiot. You’re a wonderful, brave person, and you deserve better than Fergus fruity-knob Campbell. I don’t think there’s anyone on this Earth good enough you.”
Ade snorted some very snotty laughter through his tears. “Ever my champion.”
“You’d better believe it. Now, get that drink down you. You have an ex-boyfriend to dispatch.”
17: Pip, Pip…
Ade
Ade was gladof Pip jollying him along. He was too worked up to think about what he needed to do, but with her arm hooked through his and the sound of her chatter to focus on, he kept going.
They reached the corner of his street, and Ade stopped. Fergus’s car was parked right outside the main door, and he was sitting behind the wheel, banging his hands in time to the thud of his obnoxiously loud music. Pip gently tugged, and Ade stumbled forward.
“What shall I do?” she asked. He didn’t know. “Wait in the living room?” He shook his head. His sofa was still full of Fergus’s piss. “Then I’ll go up and sit with Mary,” she said. “If you’re even slightly worried, you scream as loud as you can. OK?”
Ade nodded. “Yes. Scream.”
“OK.” Pip walked away from him, glancing back every couple of steps.
Ade drifted along, he wasn’t sure how, closer and closer, his eyes locked on Fergus’s outline, whilst Fergus pretended not to notice him until the very last second. The car door opened, and Ade quickened his pace. He kept walking, calling back over his shoulder, “It’s all packed up and in the hallway.”
He continued through the front entrance, up the stairs to his apartment, key now in shaking hand, trying to home in on the lock. Fergus’s large, heavy palm landed on his arm, and he froze.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Adrian, come on. Does it have to be this way?”
Ade tried again to push the key in, but his nervousness had turned to pure fear—not of Fergus but that he wouldn’t see this through.
“I love you, Adrian. And I know what you’re going to say. I have a funny way of showing it. You’re right. I’ve fucked up, big time. But if—”
The key finally slid into the lock. Ade turned it in relief and pushed the door open. His throat was seizing up, the tension in his muscles and the pain of the bruising like a clamp around his neck that turned his voice into a strangled stream of words.
“Just get your stuff and get the fuck out of my life.”
He tried to step out of the way, but Fergus advanced on him, using his physical size to walk Ade backwards into his apartment.
“One more chance,” Fergus said, the words themselves a plea, but the tone was a command. He expected Ade’s obedience.
