Chapter 30
Harvey
For the next couple of days, Killian improved, and on day three, he finally came downstairs. I sat him in the extension to the kitchen, next to the window, so he could look out over the garden. It always soothed me. I hoped it would for him, too.
I sat at my drawing table, sketching nothing in particular, doodling to while away the time.
“Don’t you work?” he asked, his voice much better now.
“I do, but I asked Steph for some time off. I told her I’m looking after a friend.”
“Is that what we are?”
I put down my pencil and looked at him. He sat on the sofa, a soft woollen blanket wrapped around him, Jasper sitting on his lap.
His long hair cascaded around his shoulders, his cornflower-blue eyes piercing in their intensity.
I remembered how his lips tasted, the smell of his skin as he wrapped himself around me.
Was it wrong to want to be more than friends?
I’d never fully explored our relationship, sabotaging it before we had a chance to make it work.
“Do you know why I pushed you away?” Now seemed the right time to tell him.
“I wish I did. It might have made things easier.”
“You’d always have wondered if I’d do it again, and you needed to concentrate on your career, not some fucked-up loser.”
“You were never a loser, Harv. I was always in it for the long haul.”
“But you didn’t need to be. I’d have just been a weight on your shoulders, always bringing you down.
You’d always be wondering what I was up to while you were on tour, and you deserved to make the most of everything without worry.
Fuck, Killian, it can’t have been easy doing what you do.
By removing myself from your life, I removed the worry. ”
There, I’d said it. I’d told him the reason; I hoped he’d understand.
“Did you ever think I needed you to help me through it all? Fuck, Harv. I’d have done anything to share it all with you. Instead, I faced everything alone.” He turned away to look out of the window, but I could tell by the way his voice broke that it wasn’t easy.
But sometimes, conversations and truths were difficult.
Abandoning my drawing, I rushed to his side and took his hand in mine. He tried to pull away, but I held on tight.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t see another way out. I didn’t think I deserved to live, let alone deserve your love.”
“Sorry means nothing now, Harv. Don’t you see that? You broke me.” Tears ran down his face, and my heart broke. I’d done that to him.
“I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? You broke my fucking heart.”
“I broke us both, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“I’m not sure you can.”
But I had to. I had to put things right. I had to fix him. If not for him, then for my own peace of mind.
Silence stretched between us, a silence full of unspoken words, but he hadn’t pulled away, his hand still wrapped in mine.
“I loved you, Harv, but you didn’t give me a chance to show you. You took it away from me.”
“You never told me.”
“It seemed too soon. We barely knew each other, but there was always something between us. An invisible thread connecting us.”
“I sensed it. I loved you, too, but if I’d told you, you’d have run in the other direction.”
He turned to face me, his face wet with tears. “Fucking arseholes, the both of us.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, but I’m not sure I was ready for it all.”
“And what about now? Because even though I can’t forgive you right now, I’m not sure I’m done with you.”
I placed my head on his chest, the soft thud of his heart loud in my ear. “It’s not broken,” I said, tears streaming down my face.
“Not anymore, but you don’t have to see the scars to know they’re there.”
“You said that to me once, a long time ago.”
“I meant it then, and I mean it now. You can’t see my scars, but I have them, the same as you do.”
He stroked a hand through my hair, and for the first time in forever, I breathed.
No longer barely breathing.
Every breath I took was for him, for us. We were no longer shattered. After years apart, by some stroke of luck, be it fate or not, we’d found each other.
But now, if he’d have me, I was ready to take the leap. Ready to give him everything I had.
Ready.
Our mutual declarations must have exhausted him, and soon enough, he was asleep, his hand still entwined in my hair.
I lay awake, his heart beating a steady rhythm in my ear, but I was getting uncomfortable, plus I needed to use the bathroom. I hated to wake him, but I couldn’t hold off any longer.
“Hmm, where you going?” he mumbled. “Stay here.”
“I need to pee.”
“S’okay. Come back.”
“I will. I promise.”
I slipped out of his arms and went to the bathroom. I relieved myself, washed my hands, and went back to the kitchen. It was late, and we’d eaten nothing since lunch.
He’d be hungry when he woke, his appetite finally returning after a couple of days.
I smiled at the memory of our first meal together and set to preparing it, hoping it’d somehow heal the rift that had grown between us.
A rift that I hoped was slowly healing.
I kept the noise to a minimum, and by the time he woke half an hour later, dinner was already in the oven. He walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of red checked lounge trousers and nothing else. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He’d filled out, no longer thin as he’d been before.
“You said you were coming back to me,” he said and rubbed his eyes.
There was more than one meaning to that sentence.
“I put dinner in. I thought you’d be hungry.”
“Damn right I am. Smells good. What are we having?”
“Shepherd’s pie.”
He laughed for the first time since he’d arrived, a rich sound that did something to my insides I didn’t think either of us was ready for yet.
“Trying to recapture the past?” He sat at the table, and instantly, Jasper joined him.
“Maybe. It couldn’t hurt.”
He stroked the cat, his eyes red from the tears he’d cried. “What are we going to do? I’m not sure I could stand to lose you again.”
I knelt before him, my hands on his knees. Desperation laced my voice. “You won’t. I promise.”
“You promised last time.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t make a promise to you I didn’t know I could keep, but now, I know in my heart that I will keep that promise forever, if you’ll let me.”
His gaze never left mine, his eyes raking through the parts of my soul I’d hidden well.
“We take it slowly. Not like last time.”
“Agreed.” I couldn’t help but think I’d got off lightly, that his forgiveness had been easily won.
“But if you ever fuck me around, or I think you’re slipping back into old ways, I’ll call it off. I won’t be left broken like before.”
“God, Killian. I never intended to hurt you that way. I was selfish, only thinking of me and what I wanted, but in the heat of the moment, nothing else mattered.”
“I understand, I really do. But you fucking talk to me next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” Except I couldn’t promise that. My mental health was and always would be a part of me. No amount of pills or therapy would cure it, but I’d make damn sure I didn’t fall so far again.
Ignoring the cat on his lap, he leant forward and pressed his lips to mine. “That’s my promise to you.”
I returned the favour. “And that’s my promise to you. No more secrets and lies.”
We both jumped as the timer went off on the oven.
“That’ll be dinner.” I got to my feet, only for him to drag me back down to him.
“I never stopped loving you, Harv. Not for one single day."
I gazed into his eyes. Brilliant blue, just as I remembered them.
“Nor did I. It took me a while to realise that, but I think we were always meant to be together.”
When he finally let me go, I got the pie out of the oven and dished up two plates.
“Please don’t burn yourself this time,” I said and placed it in front of him.
“Fuck, that hurt for days, you know.”
“I’m not surprised.”
He ate with relish. “Just as good as before, but a little spicier.”
“I’ve perfected my recipe over the years. My tastes changed.”
“Not too much, I hope. How many have you cooked it for?”
“Besides you? No one else.”
“Not even Chris?” He smiled, put in another forkful, and chewed.
“I told you. We’re just friends.”
“We were friends, and look what we used to get up to.”
“Ah, you got me there.” I pointed the fork at him. Always with the teasing.
He waggled his eyebrows. “We’re friends again now.”
“Oh, I see where you’re going with this. You think you can compliment my food and end up in my bed?”
“Is it working?”
I laughed. “You’re still not well.”
“That’s not a no.”
“We’ll see.”
“Still not a no.” He winked but said no more, and we continued to eat in silence.
“How did your parents take to your fame?”
“As you would expect. They contacted me, wanting money. Cormac’s life was worth more than that. So, I told them no.”
That surprised me. He’d been desperate for their forgiveness since his brother’s death.
“Did you meet with them?”
He put his fork down on his empty plate. “I did, and they weren’t as I remembered them. They tried to butter me up. Told me they’d missed me and had been looking for me for years.”
“And you didn’t believe them.”
“Why should I? Every time I’d contacted them just after he died, they told me I didn’t deserve to speak his name. That they wished it had been me who’d died.”
I reached across the table and took his hand. “You never told me that.”
“It never seemed like the right time. We were still getting to know each other.”
“How do you know they weren’t being sincere? People change.”
“I know my parents, and I also heard Ma telling Dad they’d take me for all I was worth. It was what I deserved. So, yeah, I gave them nothing and told them to fuck off.”
“You deserved better, and so did your brother.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s tidy up, and we can cuddle on the sofa.”
“You’ve certainly changed your tune.” I picked up the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher.
“I had time to think the past couple of days while I’ve been here. The last three years have been a whirlwind, and it’s been good to unwind. I was hurt that you couldn’t let me in, but then I realised how difficult it must have been for you.”
“I pondered long and hard about what I did, but it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. The consequences of my actions never came into it. That’s just how it is.”
“And now we have another chance. I don’t want to waste this one. Now, come ‘ere. I’m tired, and the sofa is calling.”
I turned on a couple of lamps, casting a soft glow in the room. I lit the wood burner, closed the blinds, and turned on my favourite playlist.
“Classical. Nice.” Killian lay back on the sofa and closed his eyes.
“I couldn’t listen to music for a while. All the words brought back so many memories. Classical has no words, or if it does, it’s usually Italian. It soothes me.”
I snuggled next to him and once again lay my head on his chest. Fuzzy hair tickled my cheek as he raked his hands through my hair.
I’d never experienced such peace in all my thirty-one years.
“What will you do when you’re better? Go back to Liverpool?”
“It’s too late to go to Scotland now. Duncan messaged to say he’d rearranged the concerts, and those were the last ones on my UK tour. I was taking a month off, then going back into the recording studio.”
“You could stay here. Rest a while longer.”
“I could. It’s been a while since I’ve taken any time off, and it’d give us time to get to know each other again. If you want to, of course.”
“I think that’d be a great idea.”