‘Don’t be silly,’ he says, shaking his head.‘The airports must still be closed.And the roads too?’
Nash holds up his hands, as if placating a wild animal.‘It’s cleared enough that I can go.Flights are running again too.’
‘Oh.’
‘We always knew I had to go back,’ Nash says, carefully not looking at him.‘Kurt booked everything for me.I have to go.’
‘You spoke to him?When?’Christopher asks.
‘Yesterday.I spoke to him yesterday.’
Christopher doesn’t know where to look or what to say because speaking to Kurt was exactly what Christopher himselftoldNash to do, but he’s drowning.He thought they had more time.
‘Can’t you go another day?Later?’God he feels foolish, desperate to say this.
‘I can’t.It has to be now.’
‘Please.Please, don’t go.’
The distance between them feels enormous and he wants to cross it, he really does.But he watches something shutter across Nash’s face, as if everything that they were is gone in an instant.‘It’s over, Christopher.’
It’s over.
His words echo in Christopher’s body, a ricochet of hurt.‘You spoke to him yesterday?’he repeats.
‘Yes.’
‘So you’ve known for definite that you were going to leave today?’
‘Only since last night.’
‘Oh, well that’s fine then, isn’t it?’Christopher spits, his hurt turning bitter and sharp.‘And you didn’t tell me?’
‘I didn’t want to hurt you.’
‘So, what?You were just going to pack your things and disappear in the night instead?How very fucking chivalrous of you.’
‘I was always going to say goodbye.’It’s barely a whisper, and Christopher can’t quite believe it, either.
‘Well, go on.Goodbye.’
‘It doesn’t have to be this way, Christopher.’
‘What way?’
‘Angrily.Bitterly.Can’t we say goodbye as friends?’
Christopher can’t grasp all the things he’s feeling, but that word feels absolutely terrible on Nash’s lips.He feels hot tears pricking in his eyes and, for Christ’s sake, he will notcry in front of this man, not when he seems so unmoved himself, so willing to just disappear without a word.Without aconversation, because clearly he’s decided that’s it.
There is no future for Christopher and Nash, not as far as Nash seems to see it.
The space between them is a gulf.
The only sound is Nash’s phone vibrating on the counter.
‘You should get that,’ Christopher says, his voice flat.
It’s only now that Nash looks at him, as he answers the phone, and Christopher doesn’t hear what he says, because he’s just looking at him, pleading with him to change his mind, to stay a little longer.
