“No… the agreement states we have to start building a pack on the Yorkshire territory. I’m not sure how you think we’ll do that if we don’t even live on the land. Why would you even want to live here instead?”
“I never saidIwould live here instead.” The penny drops.
“And there it is,” I say, exasperated.
“There what is?”
I theatrically look at the non-existent watch on my wrist.
“Less than twenty-four hours. I’m actually kind of impressed it only took you this long to come up with an out.” I can feel my nostrils flare in anger. Running a hand through my hair, I tug at the roots in frustration, the slight sting momentarily distracting me.
“You honestly thought that after everythin' that’s happened, we’d sign on the dotted line and live happily ever after in Yorkshire? I’ve always known you were an optimist, Phoenix, but I didn’t have you pegged as completely delusional. This wholething,” he gesticulates his hand between us, “Is a sham. It’s nothin’ more than a very fragile peace agreement. It’s not exactly a love marriage,” he chokes out the word love as though it’s a dirty word.
“If we can’t make this work,Connor,I can promise you that a lack of love won’t be our downfall. It’s never been hard to love you; living with you, however, when you’re so pig-headedly determined to act like a vicious little cat, it's another matter entirely.” My voice is raised, and I’m white-knuckling the fork in my left hand. He looks stunned; I’ve only ever lost my temper once, in the entirety of our relationship, but I’ve lost every shred of the control I can usually keep a tight lid on. Cee knows how to get under my skin, unlike anybody else, not even my brothers.
“I amnota vicious little cat,” he snips back. Grabbing his plate, he scrapes the remnants of food into the bin before dumping it into the sink and storming out of the house. A blur of dark fur flashes past the window as he sets off running down the hillside.
“Excellent work, Nix. You really kept a level head there.” I sigh, shaking my head. “And now you’re talking to yourself; that’s a healthy sign, I’m sure.”
Cee becomes a tiny grey dot in the distance. It’s rare to witness someone both figuratively and literally running away from their own feelings.
After I’ve done the washing up, made the bed, and cleaned the already spotless bathroom, I grab my laptop and start the marking I’ve been avoiding. It’s the Easter Holidays, so I have almost two full weeks off work before I’m back to reality.
Cee's words from earlier play on a loop in my head, confirming all my fears over him having one foot out the door. When I return to work after the holidays, I’m due to tell the Headteacher at my school I won’t be continuing to work there from September. Suddenly, the idea of starting a new job in a new town, while Cee searches for the nearest exit, fills me with dread.
It doesn’t take long before the boredom of reading the same answers to the same questions makes me want to smash my head against the table. There’s still no sign of Cee. It’s crisp but sunny outside; spring finally making an appearance.
Grabbing a book I keep picking up and putting down on the wolf packs of Scandinavia, I sit on the veranda outside, waiting to see if Cee will even bother coming back.
I haven’t been reading long when the weather takes a sudden turn for the worse and the heavens open up. Thick sheets of rain pour from the sky relentlessly. Fortunately, the veranda has aroof, so I can enjoy the white noise of the heavy rain from my dry and comfortable chair.
As I finish a chapter on the Ulberg pack in Norway, the oldest known wolf pack in history, I lift my head in time to see a large, soaking wet, grey wolf leaping over the gate and landing on the path with a loud thud. Cee stalks towards me with a surprisingly impish expression, his tongue lolling out.
“You are not going in the house like that; you’ll make the whole place smell of wet dog,” I say to him sternly. He tilts his head and there’s a playfulness to his eyes I’ve not seen in a long, long while. He continues to prowl towards me slowly, like I'm prey he’s trying not to spook. I stand up from where I was sitting and block the doorway. Leaping suddenly, he pins me to the floor before licking up the side of my face and getting my clothes all wet from his damp fur.
“Ughhhh, you are disgusting,” I say while laughing. One thing to know about Cee, though, is he’d sooner choke on his own tongue than apologise out loud; this right here has always been his way. He’s always found it easier to be in his wolf form when he’s all up in his feelings.
He lies down on top of me, his deadweight knocking the breath from my lungs. His head rests on my sternum, and those deep green eyes of his tell me everything he’ll never say out loud.
“I know, Connor, I know,” I say to him, and he lets out a low, unhappy whine. “You want me to call you Cee again?” He yips his agreement. I bring my hand up to scratch behind his ear, and he pushes his head into the touch. I know this moment won’t last, but I think the only way I’ll survive the times he pulls away and lashes out, is to remain present in these soft moments. I need to fill up my cup with these, albeit brief but tender interactions and hope they don’t remain too few and far between.
Eight
February 2018 - Four Years Ago
Connor Kelly
Me:Free tonight?
Fee:Got a family dinner. You ok?
Me:Yeh, all good. Just thought I’d check on the off chance.
Fee:Hmm… what you not telling me?
Me:How do you do that even over text?
Fee:Skillz. Now spill.
