Page 88 of Crying in the Rain
Ade started to close the door. Fergus put his foot in the way.
“You need to go,” Ade said, all of his effort on sounding calm and assertive, though he was quaking. “Now.”
But Fergus didn’t leave. He smiled and moved, slowly but surely, into the hallway of the apartment. Ade backed off. The front door closed. Fergus turned, raising his arms, an action to which Ade was so thoroughly conditioned that he reflexively flinched. Fergus let his arms drop into a lazy shrug. It wasa gesture conveying surrender, yet this visit, not to mention how he’d gained entry, showed how little intention he had of giving up. At a slender five foot eight, Ade was used to other men being bigger than he was, and Fergus was both taller and stockier. He worked out almost every day, and once upon a time, Ade had appreciated his defined musculature and rugged features. Once upon a time, he’d thought Fergus to be a handsome, loveable rogue. Now, those very same qualities repulsed him and made him nauseous with fear.
No, physically he couldn’t challenge Fergus, but the few weeks’ respite had made Ade strong in other ways. This washisapartment, and right at this moment, he was supposed to be in the pub with his friends, colleagues and boyfriend. No way was he missing out again. Just the possibility that he might made him angry, but if he could keep it together, he was the one in control here.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” he said and turned, leading the way to the living room. He sat in the middle of his new sofa, knowing that Fergus wouldn’t sit next to him because he was long-sighted and used eye contact to intimidate.
Fergus sat in the armchair, leaning back, legs crossed, relaxed. He smiled, but it was false and smarmy. “New shirt?” he asked. Ade didn’t answer. “Come on, Adrian. I’m trying my hardest.” Still nothing from Ade, Fergus tried, “Do you want me to just say it?”
Ade lifted an eyebrow noncommittally. Fergus took it as permission to state his case.
“We’ve had a good break, and I’m sure you’ll agree, it’s been a much-needed opportunity to think through the way we treated one another.”
Ade didn’t mean to sigh, although time was ticking by, and he wanted to get to the pub.
“Am I boring you?” Fergus asked.
“Not boring, no. But you are holding me up.”
“Why? Where are you going? On a date?”
Ade glared. “It’s none of your business.”
Fergus nodded slowly. “Fair enough. But, you know, you cannae blame me for all of it.”
“Who said anything about blame?” Ade gave up on concealing how tedious he was finding this and rubbed his eyes. “Is there anything else you wanted to say?”
“Nothing important. Or certainly not important to you.”
“Fergus.” Ade paused and thought carefully about his words. He didn’t want to antagonise, but he needed to make it as clear and unambiguous as he could. “Youwereimportant to me, and we have some great shared memories, but our relationship was over a year ago. We tried again, and it wasn’t to be. Now it’s time for us both to move on.”
“You’ve met someone.”
“It’s irrelevant whether I’ve—”
“Of course it’s relevant!” Fergus uncrossed his legs and shifted forward. He was riled. “If you’re seeing someone else, then you’ve given up on us. Correct?”
“Which means you gave up on us first.”
“Meaning?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Are you accusing me of cheating on you?”
“Did you?”
Fergus gave a small, supercilious laugh. “Our relationship was finished a year ago. You just told me that.”
“Yes, but you were all for making a fresh start. As far as I was concerned, that meant we were trying to work it out. The fact you were screwing around—”
“One guy. One night. That’s all.”
“It doesn’t matter if it was one or one hundred. And you brought whoever it was here, to my apartment. To my bed!”
“Yourapartment now, is it?”
