“Look, I know what you’re saying. I get it.”
“No, you really don’t.” He looks at me with scorn. It’s Valentine’s Day. This is the last thing I imagined happening today. “You say youget itbecause you want the conversation to be over. Because you can’t stand being wrong, but you really don’t get anything at all.”
“I— You’re right. I don’t get it. I feel like you’re in one conversation, and I’m in another. All I’m saying is that we waited a long time for the life we have now. Perhaps we need to do what we can so Maud and Lily and everyone else has their chance before their time is up.”
“Great. Fine. Message received. But today? On the day I spent months planning for us?”
“Nobody planned this, Oliver.”
“I PLANNED IT!” His eyes blaze with fury. He screams so loud that I’m sure they can hear him down below. It’s not just a lover’s spat anymore. It’s a public fight. We’ve made it everyone’s business.
“I—I know you did. I’m sorry. I get it. I wasn’t thinking. Or I was, but not of you.”
“Because you never think of me.” He hangs the towel back up. Stands naked in front of me.
“All I think about is you.” I turn the shower off. Stand in the steam. Let it evaporate around me.
“As the object ofyourobsession.”
“Not obsession. Love.”
“Yourlove.” He lowers his voice. He can’t risk too much being heard. “Yourdecision to make me this way.Yourlife here in London.Yourmother.Yoursister.Yourhome. It’s always you leading us—”
“I thought—I always—I thought you liked that about me.”
“I did.” He huffs. “Maybe I do. Most times. But this wasmyday. I asked you to hold the day for me. I wanted to be the leaderfor once. I was going to take you to Paris. I—”
“Paris, really?” I open the shower door. Join him outside. Try to pull him close.
He pushes me away. “You’re wet and I’m angry.”
“Will you forgive me? If I come to Paris with you?”
He shakes his head. Looks at me with even more rage than before. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over now. The surprise is ruined. I don’t want a Valentine who spends the day with me out of guilt.”
I grab the same towel he dried himself with. Wrap it around me. “I have never spent time with you because of guilt, Oliver.” I catch my reflection in the mirror. As youthful as ever. Unblemished skin. White teeth. Eternal glow. “If I do feel guilty, it’s because of them downstairs. We can go to Paris anytime. Because we have all the time in the world. They don’t.”
“Sure, yeah, you’re right.” He nods. “Let’s go to Paris another time. Anytime, in fact. Which we both know means it will never happen. I certainly won’t be getting my money back.”
“Is this about money now?”
“It’s about...” He hovers under the door frame. “It’s about everything!”
He doesn’t get dressed. He throws himself in bed. Raises the covers over his face.
I sit by his side. “Oliver, come on. This isn’t like you.”
He speaks from under the sheets. “You have no idea howlike meit is. I’m so good at hiding, and I hate it. We’re still hiding. Not because we’re gay anymore. Because we’re immortal. But it feels the same. Lonely and horrible.”
“Then let’s tell them.” I try to think through the repercussions. “Let’s go downstairs and tell the truth. They’re our family.”
“Which is exactly why we can’t tell them. What good could possibly come from their knowing what we are? A distance will grow between us and them. It will all come crashing down. And all I want... is for our happy home to never crumble.”
“Maybe nothing will crash down. Let’s talk this through.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“Then come downstairs with me. Let’s be with Maud. She needs us.”
