Chapter 8
Two weeks later
Jamie never thought he would turn down pastry. But, alas, with an annoyed huff, he sat up in bed and sniped at his mum. “For the fifth time, no, I don’t want any pastry, Mum.”
“But what about—?”
“Believe it or not, a jam tart is not going to make my headache go away. In fact, I don’t think sugar is what I need right now at all.”
Guilt flooded Jamie at the sight of his mother’s sad eyes. He didn’t usually speak to his mum in this matter—or get so easily irritated—but holy bloody fuck. Living at home had been nice for about one day before he felt like chucking himself on his bike and pedaling full tilt back to London.
But he couldn’t.
Due to his head injury, Jamie could hardly hold a conversation for more than five minutes, wasn’t cleared to bike, and oh yeah… apparently lived with a man he barely knew named Caleb. Brilliant.
With a sigh, he said, “Sorry, Mum.” She lingered in the doorway of his childhood bedroom, looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. She only wanted to help. “Could you send Pippa in? I want her to show me how to play one of these games.”
The doctor said he should avoid screens for a while, so his brothers and some neighbors had dropped off a bunch of board games. It was a sweet gesture, but he was also annoyed by it.
These days, Jamie felt annoyed by everything.
“Yes,” his mother said, hurrying off. After a few moments, he heard his sister rushing up the stairs.
“What is up?” Pippa flopped onto his bed beside him, and the anxious ball in his chest instantly loosened. While he loved his mum, his younger sister always had a way of making Jamie feel normal.
“Oh, nothing,” he grumbled, picking up one of the games Benji’s wife, Laur, had bought him. “Want to play… Bananagrams?”
Pippa eyed the banana-shaped bag critically and then scrunched up her nose. “No, absolutely not.” She tossed the bag aside and turned to him.
Pippa looked the most like their father out of all of them.
At least, that’s what Mum said. Jamie didn’t really remember his father’s face.
He’d been so young when he left, but the man was the only explanation for Pippa’s ocean blue eyes and freckled face.
That, along with her straight, blonde hair, made her look like she belonged near an ocean somewhere, not in the countryside of Bucks.
Unlike her brothers, who all had their mother’s brown curls and green eyes and looked about as British as humanly possible.
A mischievous smile spread on her face as she hastily threw her hair into a pony.
“Let’s chat. How are you doing? Like...” She glanced at the closed door where Mum was almost definitely eavesdropping. She lowered her voice. “How are you actually doing?”
“Shit, to be honest.” It was true. Jamie felt irritable and confused and smothered. His head hurt when he was awake, and he had weird, confusing dreams when he was asleep. Being this way felt annoying and unfamiliar.
“Talk to me.” Pippa frowned, propping herself up on a pillow. “It must be strange. Not remembering your life.”
Jamie blinked. “Yeah, it’s bloody strange, Pip. I… When I first woke up, I was so surprised to see, uh, Caleb.” The name still sounded weird in his mouth. “I was worried Mum would judge me.”
“Makes sense. If you have retro-whatever amnesia—”
“Retrograde,” Jamie muttered.
“Yeah, whatever. If you have that, then you woke up and were, like, still in the closet, right? That’s such shit. I hate that you were ever closeted. None of us bloody cared when you came out.”
Jamie shifted uncomfortably. “Even Benji? And Sam?” His brothers were nice guys, but they weren’t the most progressive humans ever.
Pippa paused to contemplate this and nibbled the skin around her nail.
“I suppose Sam was a bit weird about it. But he never said much. Benji and Laur didn’t care, and I, of course, was super happy because I’m the most supportive, best sibling ever.
” Her smile scrunched all the freckles up towards her eyes.
“You are,” he agreed. “How did it go? When I came out?”
Pippa’s blonde eyebrows pulled together. “Am I allowed to tell you? Didn’t the doctor say—?”
“Pip,” he interrupted. “Come on, it has been a week. I’ve rested. I’ve stayed off my bloody phone. Give me something.”
She sighed and squared her body to him. “Alright. Well, you called me and told me.”
“When?”
“Uh.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “I think it was spring? Of 2023?”
“Wow. And that was…” Jamie did the math. “Two years ago?”
“Yep. And I convinced you to bring Caleb home the weekend we were home to celebrate my twenty-fourth birthday. So, yeah, you brought him and told everyone he was your partner. Mum was thrilled. She has the biggest crush on him.”
“What?” Jamie’s eyes snapped to the door. “She does? On Caleb?”
“Well, duh, have you seen him? He’s hot.”
Jamie’s face heated. “Right.”
“Also, he brought her incense and some crystals from the shop she likes in London,” Pippa said, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Won her over immediately.”
Jamie snorted. That would definitely be the way to win over Maggie Collins.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Coming out had been the most terrifying idea to Jamie for so long. Even when Ellie broke up with him and, very gently, insinuated that he might want to start dating men… he thought his life would end.
So… that was one good thing that came from this accident, right? The hard part was over. He was out, his family accepted him, and now… well, he had a lot of other shit to figure out.
His stomach gave a disgruntled gurgle.
“Pip,” he said softly. “Do you think Mum has any of that jam tart left?”
Pippa giggled. “No, I ate the last piece. But I know something even better that will cheer you up.”
“What’s that?”
“Your hot fiancé is on his way here.”
“What?” Jamie shot straight up, heart pounding. “Why?”
Pippa shrugged. “Because I invited him.”
The way Jamie looked at Caleb was torture.
It wouldn’t have been a few years ago. He remembered it being exhilarating, the way Jamie’s seafoam green eyes curiously dragged down Caleb’s body. Or the way he would get adorably flustered when Caleb caught him staring at his arms.
Back then, it was adorable—Jamie was still adorable—but now, after all they’d been through, seeing him look at Caleb like a stranger was fucking torture.
“Y’alright, Caleb?” Pippa asked as she took the six-pack of non-alcoholic beer from his hands and pulled him down into a hug.
“Yeah,” he said, though nothing about him was remotely alright. But that was just how British people greeted each other.
As she wrapped her arms around him, he felt Jamie’s gaze burning into the back of his neck. It took everything in him not to turn around and blurt, “It’s me! Just last week, we made a Pinterest board for our wedding. Remember?”
Pippa must’ve sensed his misery, because she pulled him in tighter and whispered, “Oh, love,” pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
He’d always liked Jamie’s sister. She was kind and funny, and he could only hope she still thought of him as family, even if Jamie didn’t anymore.
When she pulled away, Caleb steeled himself for what came next. He turned to Jamie, lifting his chin in an attempt to appear more calm and collected than he was.
Jamie wore jeans and a purple sweater—the same one he had kicked himself all January for leaving home in Bucks—and raked a nervous hand through his curls.
“Hey,” Jamie said weakly.
“Hi Jamie,” Caleb replied as evenly as he could, though his fingers tightened around the brown box he held. It was stupid, standing in the middle of a kitchen he had been in a million times, trying not to fall apart.
“Here.” He thrust the box forward into Jamie’s hands, then whipped the bag off his shoulder and held it out. Jamie took it slowly, eyes flicking between Caleb and the bag, then down at the jumbled contents inside.
“Just… uh, a few things for you,” Caleb mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
Jesus, this was unbearable. All he wanted was to pull Jamie into his arms, kiss his cheeks, and reassure himself that he really was okay. Breathe in his familiar smells, squeeze his body tight so that his brain could actually start to believe he was alive.
Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides.
Living alone all week in their apartment had been fucking miserable. Sally came over to bring food and make sure he ate. The team had sent flowers, gift cards for takeout, and sweet text messages.
They all loved Caleb, but they adored Jamie.
“Caleb, love.” Jamie’s mum rushed into the kitchen and engulfed him in a big hug. She smelled like vanilla and Crayons, just like always. “Y’alright?”
“Yeah, thanks, Maggie,” he said with a smile. “How are the kids at school?”
“Oh, you know. Little buggers.” She winked, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Reckon they’ll make me completely grey here soon.”
Maggie worked as a school teacher in their small, little town of Marlow. Jamie always joked that she embarrassed the shit out of him growing up in school, but Caleb knew he didn’t really mean it. She was incredibly chill and sweet and sometimes a tad much… but a wonderful mom all the same.
“Pippa,” Maggie said. “I need your help getting the laundry sorted. Let’s let these two talk.”
The women swept from the room.
“I’m sorry for dropping in like this,” Caleb said. “Pippa invited me, and I know you can’t use your phone much. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“It’s no problem. It’s, uh, nice to see you.”
Caleb’s heart clenched at how stilted the conversation felt. With the man he loved. Christ, he could really use a fucking cigarette.
“Want to sit?” Jamie nodded to the living room, where they settled onto opposite armchairs. The fire was going, which was nice. It was brutally cold outside.
Jamie placed the box on the side table, then dropped his hands into his lap, fiddling with his thumbs.
“How are you feeling?” Caleb asked.
“Alright. My head hasn’t felt great, but the rest of me is fine. Mostly restless. Not being able to watch the telly or read’s been shit. And my mum is being…” He glanced up. “Well, she can be a bit much.”
I know, we spend most Sundays here for roast.
“I bet,” Caleb replied, forcing his voice to stay even.
“It’s just been… a lot. Everything. Being here. I love them all but…” Jamie gave a helpless little shrug.
Come home. Let me take care of you.
Caleb swallowed. “What’s the doctor recommending?”
“She said I’m cleared to do everything but bike and drive.
And anything stressful, I suppose. So the library told me to take as much time as I need.
” Jamie scratched the top of his head. Caleb knew how much he loved his work.
It would kill him to have to take time off.
“They insisted on at least a month. The doctor said, other than that, I should just go back to my normal life.”
His eyes studied the hands in his lap, and his forehead scrunched up in distress. “I just don’t know how to do that.”
Caleb’s hand reached instinctively toward him, ready to offer comfort, but he stopped short. Jamie’s eyes flicked to the movement, catching it. Like a coward, Caleb pulled it back.
“I’m so sorry,” Jamie said softly, still looking down.
“What?” Caleb blinked. “For what?”
“For how I reacted at the hospital. I was rude to you, and then I just—” Jamie looked up, and Caleb’s heart squeezed at the sight of his glassy green eyes. “This must be so hard for you, I’m sure.”
God. His sweet Jamie. The man had been hit by a bus, his entire world flipped upside down, and he was still worried about him.
“It’s okay,” Caleb said gently. He scooted forward in his chair, getting as close to Jamie as he could without actually touching the man. “You know, you could come back to London. Stay at… um, at home. With me.” He gave a small shrug. “Might help you feel more like yourself.”
Nerves and anxiety flashed in Jamie’s eyes before he looked back down at his lap. Caleb tried not to feel disappointed.
Jamie had always had anxiety, and he’d always been slow to make decisions, but over the past few years, he had become so much more confident in himself. He’d worked hard in therapy, gotten braver and more sure of himself. It would break Caleb’s heart if he lost all that confidence—
“I’ll think about it,” Jamie said quietly.
Fuck. That stung. But what the hell had he expected?
“Okay.” Caleb stood, feeling the dismissal in Jamie’s voice. A combination of hurt, frustration, and despair tangled in his chest.
He took a moment, glancing around the living room.
It looked exactly the same as it always did.
Worn, cozy sofas with thick blankets draped over the backs.
Family photos hanging on every inch of the walls.
Everything Caleb had imagined a British countryside house would look like when Jamie had first brought him here.
Everything he’d once thought a real home should feel like.
And maybe that’s what pissed Caleb off the most. Nothing in this room had changed, but everything else in the fucking world had.
“You can call me anytime. I, uh, I always have my phone.” He backed awkwardly out of the room. After a round of polite goodbyes to Pippa and Maggie, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. But just before stepping outside, he glanced back into the living room.
Jamie was still on the couch, hunched over the canvas bag with the dumb little carrot logo. He pulled out his skincare products that Caleb had brought and set them on the side table. Then he lifted the bakery box and opened it.
A smile tugged at his mouth at the sight of the jam tart. A dimple appeared in his cheek. It was a small win, and Caleb was pathetically happy about it, but it shoved a little warmth into the heartache in his chest.
Just enough to get him out the door.