Chapter Thirty-Two #2
A soft sound draws our attention to the bed. Jules clenches the sheet in his bandaged hand and winces, his entire arm jerking.
Mathieu intervenes, gently loosening Jules’s grip. “He’s got burns,” he explains. “They’re not bad, but the doctor is worried about the risk of infection. It was a few hours before they were properly cleaned.”
I hate everything about this. I hate that he’s hurt. That I was lying helpless when it happened.
Mathieu sits back down, more sober now.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
I’m even more unhappy by the end. Jules could have died.
If Mathieu hadn’t gone back for him, he likely would have.
I tip my head back and scrub a hand over my face.
There’s more than twilight streaming in the window now, the morning’s early rays lighting up the hospital.
Outside, a city is coming to life. Cars honk, sirens shriek in the distance.
“We’re allowed to protect you too,” Mathieu says, unusually serious.
I force down every objection that wants to rise at that assertion. I don’t want them in danger, ever. If there’s a risk that needs taking, leave it to me. The urge to argue is strong, but when I meet Mathieu’s eyes, I know it’s a fight I won’t win.
“I just hate that he’s hurt,” I say.
“Me too.”
“I’m glad you went back for him.”
“I’ve been telling you both forever, but I am reliable too. You have to start believing me now.”
“I’ve never thought you were unreliable.”
That seems to catch Mathieu off guard. His lips press together, one of his dimples showing, even though he’s not smiling. “Good.”
“A little impulsive.”
“Quit while you’re ahead.” Both dimples flash.
I grin and follow his advice.
“You’re heading back to France?” I ask.
“For my parents’ sake, I’d better go home for a few weeks, at least. After that…
I finished my degree, but I’m not like Jules.
I haven’t applied for jobs yet.” He catches his lip between his teeth.
“There’s a master’s I had my eye on in Dublin, Library Studies, but I’ve been delaying the decision because I also kind of want to go back to working in a stable. What about you?”
“I was in limbo just before this trip. I’m staying on Seán’s couch, so I’ll need to get on with finding a new place.
My summers are filled with camps at the Wicklow Adventure Centre, so I’ll give them a ring once I’m back in Ireland and see what’s what.
” The idea of going back to work seems unreal.
Helping teenagers and kids with rock-climbing, mud-challenges, kayaking and gorge-walking…
It seems so… “It feels anticlimactic,” I admit.
“We were rescued, and I just feel…weird.”
“You were asleep for the climactic part,” Mathieu points out. “But I get what you mean. I could have done another week.”
I look at Mathieu like he’s crazy.
Mathieu shrugs. “I’m nervous now. Aren’t you? What if we”—he gestures between the three of us—“fade out?”
I decide I’ll do that thing Seán said people do before relationships, and risk the hurt. “I want it to work, so let’s make it work.”
Mathieu looks at me in surprise, then something more considering fills his eyes. “You didn’t answer when Jules asked. I know the timing wasn’t ideal for you, and I said I’d ask again when it was better, but I did wonder… Is it because you want to date just him?” His expression is unreadable.
“That isn’t it,” I say. “I didn’t answer because I was scared, not because I was unsure about us. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. I don’t want to mess this up.”
Mathieu’s shoulders relax. “Me too.”
“And you? You don’t feel like I’m…butting in?”
Mathieu’s gaze slides over Jules, all the equipment that he’s hooked up to.
His hand goes to his chest, where the blue quartz he gifted Jules hangs from his own neck.
“You have this way of making me feel capable, and people usually make me feel the opposite of that. I told Jules I finally found my courage, but I actually think it’s you that makes me feel brave. ”
My throat tightens. I look away from Mathieu and stare out the window. You make me feel brave is wildly different from pet boyfriend.
Mathieu clears his throat. “You’re very caring too, which I also like. And I like that I can be mean to you and you’re not a big baby about it.” His tone turns playful, and I can look back. His smile is soft. “I like you too, Cillian.”
“I think it would be impossible not to like you,” I tell him, dead serious.
◆◆◆
Mary and Charles leave for Ireland, as do Willow and Yasop. Mathieu is teaching me how to say what he claims means “I don’t like snakes” in French but which, based on the glee in his eyes, I’m well aware is something dirty.
Three days pass before Jules wakes up, mumbling, “Morning.”
I snap to attention. Lethargically, Jules reaches for his mask. I intervene before he hurts his hand. “You’re not supposed to grab anything. Here, I’ll get it.”
I already checked with the nurses, and we’re allowed to take it off. There are red marks on Jules’s face, indents of the equipment left behind. It’s a few minutes of bleary-eyed questions before real coherence fills Jules’s eyes.
He stares right at me. “Snake.”
“Mathieu has been trying to convince me that the French word for snake is ‘le membre’ for the past hour.”
Mathieu splutters an objection.
“I’m okay,” I add, when Jules’s serious gaze doesn’t waver. “They shot me up with antivenom, and my fever’s gone. There’s tissue damage around the bite, but nothing I won’t recover from. You’re going to be out of commission longer than me.”
Jules studies the cast for a long time, then turns over his other hand, looking at his wrapped fingers. “Can you help me sit up?”
I grab the remote for the bed and press the button to get it upright.
Mathieu opens a bottle of water and sticks a straw into it, holding it for Jules to drink.
“This is going to be annoying,” Jules mutters.
Then, as if a physical switch were flicked, his attention moves outwards. “Is everyone okay?”
Mathieu and I give him the rundown. At the mention of Darren’s quick getaway, his expression flickers, but that’s all the emotion he shows.
“We’re the last ones in the hospital,” I finish up.
I was told I could go, but there’s no way I was going to leave Jules to wake up alone in a foreign country.
Even if he’s changed his mind about a relationship, I’m getting him home and safe first. Though I’m hoping that Jules won’t feel differently about my offer to be that safety net he wants.
“I thought we’d book our flights together, and I can drive you to your place,” I suggest. My offer is selfish. I intend to make sure there’s neither sight nor sound of Darren, and he’s had the cop-on to get out of Jules’s apartment.
“I’d appreciate that.”
“And if you’re not against it, I’ll stick around for a little while? I’m not going to be heading straight back into work, and”—I gesture to his broken arm—“I’m told that happened saving my life. Maybe I can help with the showers.”
That brings a faint smile to Jules’s lips. His eyes linger on mine, with a question in them. Mathieu gives me a sidelong look, prompting me on. I understand what he was saying about courage. It’s easier to speak with him there.
“And about what you asked before I got sick—my answer’s yes. If you still want that.”
Jules’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and his lips curve into a slow smile. The tension in my chest releases.
Mathieu leans in towards Jules. “I told you he’d come around. We’ll think about it, Cillian, and let you know in a week our final decision.”
Jules makes an objecting noise. “Mathieu.”
Mathieu crosses his arms. “I want to help with showers,” he says, grumpily. His flight is booked for tonight, back to France.
“We can video chat for them,” Jules says.
Mathieu’s eyes widen. Jules is looking at him very earnestly. Taking Mathieu’s grumbling at face value and trying to make him feel better.
Mathieu, seeing that Jules isn’t messing with him, brightens.
Alarm bells ring. Jules is going to let Mathieu get away with absolutely everything.
I’m going to have to make sure I don’t. I vow I’ll make sure there’s a soap bottle placed perfectly, and all Mathieu will get to see will leave him frustrated across the channel.
And if he says please, I’ll move it.
Mathieu’s family come for him. None of them speak more than a word or two of English, but they seem warm and nice. Mathieu tells us both that they’ve invited us to come stay with them and kisses both me and Jules square on the mouth before dragging his feet and leaving.
It’s quiet after he’s gone. Jules doesn’t say much; he’s wrecked.
Before I’m ready to move, Seán comes and gets me because our lift to the airport is there.
I keep myself close to Jules every second of the trip home.
Mathieu, having stolen a phone from one of his family members and having got the numbers of Seán’s parents, may as well have been right next to us.
The phone never stops buzzing for a second.