Chapter Thirty
Christopher
Nash is here?
At first, Christopher worries that he’s imagined Nash being here. That all his hopes and dreams of the last few days have manifested in seeing him everywhere. But no, all the townies see him too, and they go wild, raised glasses being happily waved.
Their eyes meet across the room, but neither man moves, as though they’re both unsure this is really happening.
Why is he here? Wasn’t leaving the first time hard enough?
The Spanks Squad sidle up to him.
‘Is that him?’ Haf hisses.
‘Yes,’ Christopher whispers, at the same time as Ambrose says it very loudly.
‘Well, ding dong, darling,’ says Laurel, who it appears has definitely had a bit too much of Thelma’s home-brew spirits.
Ambrose gently takes the glass from her hands. ‘I’ll take that, thanks.’
Kit places a hand on his back. ‘Go talk to him.’
‘I . . . I can’t.’
His heart hammers in his chest, because why? Why is he here? And how dare he come back when he hasn’t spoken to Christopher since he left?
That’s when it hits Christopher finally. Nash isn’t just here.
He came back.
Christopher has to find out why.
The world falls away as he crosses the room towards Nash, who hovers in the doorway. He’s never seen Nash like this, afraid to enter a room or take up space. Normally, that’s Christopher’s problem if anything.
It feels as if the air is sucked out of the room as they get closer.
Gone is the leather jacket or the too-thin fancy sports jacket. Nash stands in a caramel peacoat that reaches his knees, a red scarf at his neck. He looks smart, possibly even purposefully dressed up.
‘Erm. Hello,’ Christopher begins.
‘Hi.’
‘Right.’
He’s not sure what to do or say. Nash waves to someone over Christopher’s shoulder, and when Christopher turns to look, all of the party attendees suddenly turn away, knocking into each other and spilling wine and causing a ruckus.
‘Christ.’
They both laugh, and there’s this tiny moment where Christopher thinks, There it is, there we are. It feels traitorous because he can’t get his hopes up.
Not again.
‘Happy New Year,’ Nash says.
For some reason, the casualness of this spikes his chest. ‘It’s not midnight yet,’ Christopher grumbles.
‘Fine, Happy About-To-Be-A New Year. Better?’
‘Yes. How did you know we’d all be here?’
‘The Facebook group for community organising in Pen-y-M?r is both regularly updated and not even remotely secure.’
‘And . . . how did you get here?’ For some reason he can’t stop asking about logistics because his mind is still reeling.
‘The same way I left. Sadly, I didn’t get chance to get the teleportation truck working.’
‘Probably for the best.’ God, get on with it, Christopher’s head and heart scream. It’s too easy to slip into this casual back-and-forth, as though they were old friends at a party, not briefly lovers who separated on a fight. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Is that not obvious?’ Nash asks, his voice low. ‘I’m here for you.’
His heart flutters with hope, but it’s such a vague word.
‘What do you mean here for me?’
‘Exactly what I said. I’m here for you.’
‘Nash, you lied to me about leaving, then you left, and you asked me not to hate you, and that’s all you have to say to me? I’ve not heard from you since you went.’
Nash blinks hard. ‘I left you my number.’
‘Yes. You left, and you left it, and you left me.’ He hates how much the hurt bleeds out in those words, but it’s true, and he needs to say everything just in case Nash gets up and leaves again.
‘I know. I know and it fucking sucked how I did it. I’m owning that, and I’m not denying it.
I’m sorry I hurt you, Christopher. I really am.
But I had to go back and sort some things out, and I was too afraid to leave the door open to me ever coming back.
I was worried you wouldn’t want me back either. ’
Nash steps forward towards Christopher, and all the air disappears. God, he’s so beautiful.
‘So why are you?’ he manages to gasp. ‘Why do you even . . . want me?’
Nash reaches out and takes Christopher’s hands in his. They’re still a little cold from being outside, and Christopher wants to wrap them up, blow warm air into them. A few days ago, he would have, but then just a few more before that, and they wouldn’t even have been holding hands.
This month might have been the strangest one of his whole life.
‘Christopher, no one has ever known me like you. When I’m with you, I can be the person I am.
I don’t have to put on the front all the time, and no one has ever gotten through that exterior before when I didn’t want them to.
But you? You barged in. You cared for me.
You made me see you. No one else has got that close and wanted to stay. ’
‘Is that the only reason you like me?’ Christopher says, a little too bitterly, but by God he needs to hear something about him. ‘Because of how I make you feel?’
‘No! Fuck, I’m going to suck as a writer if I can’t say this right.’
Christopher’s heart jumps. ‘So, you’re going to do it? Quit acting?’
There’s a series of small heartbroken gasps behind him that he can only assume are coming from Shaz and Dai.
‘Yeah, erm, Kurt convinced the execs to change the deal to be more of an all-rounded development deal. Less emphasis on me on camera, unless I decide to write something for myself, you know? Obviously I have to do the last Christmas at the Clinic film for that to happen—’
‘HALLE-FUCKING-LOO—’ yells Shaz. They turn to look and she goes pale. ‘Jesus, sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Or eavesdrop. CARRY ON.’
‘The point is,’ Nash continues, as Christopher realises their hands are still entwined. ‘This deal gives me not just what I want career-wise, but more flexibility about where I can be when I work.’
Christopher’s mouth goes dry. Does he dare to hope? ‘And where did you have in mind?’
‘Well, I’d like to be here. With you. There’s stuff we’d have to sort out, and I’d have to fly back to LA to shoot, obviously, and be there for meetings when I stop acting, but there’s no reason why I can’t be here the rest of the time. If you’ll have me?’
This can’t be real, surely? Christopher doesn’t know how to feel, but it’s huge and bubbles up, and somehow, he finds himself saying, ‘You think you can just show up and ask to move here and tell me you love me and that’s it? Everything between us is then just fine?’
Nash laughs quietly. ‘Well, actually, I hadn’t got to that part yet. But yes, I do love you.’
His breath catches. ‘You do?’
‘Yes, you absolute clod. I love you. I think you’re completely ridiculous, but also beautiful and kind and so creatively talented and brave for chasing your dreams and annoyingly quite funny at times, especially when you’re being petty.
When I left, the first thing I regretted was that I’d spent so much time arguing with you that I hadn’t told you any of the things I liked about you.
And that’s exactly what happened just now, too.
I think the world of you, and I want you to be my world. ’
‘That’s a lot to ask of one person,’ Christopher whispers, still taking all this in.
‘OK, well how about we be each other’s world? We build a world. Us, and the puppy and Karma—’
‘Paddington.’
‘To be discussed.’
‘They’re my cat.’
‘Our cat. The point is, I want to spend the rest of our lives telling you all the good things, in between the bickering.’
The life that he dared to wish for on Christmas Eve is coming true, somehow. It’s impossible magic. Together, under the stars and crouched on their bed, he had wished for a world where their life together kept going. It can’t be this simple, can it?
The whole room is silent, hanging on his next words.
He looks to Haf and Kit, cuddled up together.
It was simple for them, wasn’t it, in the end?
They knew they were each other’s person.
Is that how it is? Does he just need to be brave enough to say yes to this man, this incredible man, who has flown halfway across the world just to tell him that he loves him? This man, who wants to love him.
‘Nash, I’m not sure I can bear you leaving again.’
‘If you’ll have me, Christopher, I’ll never leave like that again.’
‘Then, stay. Stay with us. With me.’
‘I will.’
‘Just kiss him already!’ shrieks Ambrose, causing all the other townies and his friends to cheer in agreement.
‘Christopher, look up!’ cries Haf, when everyone falls silent.
And there, above them, in the doorway, is a sprig of mistletoe.
That ridiculous custom that started everything, that shook up his entire life, and brought him to places he could never have imagined, is right above him now, at what feels like another turning point in his life.
This time, it feels like the most obvious choice.
The right choice not made out of silliness or fear or loneliness, but out of hope for a future together.
Christopher looks at Nash, at the man he loves who is begging to stay, and he kisses him.
There are cheers and the sound of glasses clinking and the music being turned up, but all that is drowned out by their kiss.
It’s more than just a kiss. It’s a promise, and his wish come true.
‘I love you too,’ he says, when they break apart, still clutching onto each other. ‘I’m terrified of what all this means and there’s so much to sort out, but I want to try. For us.’
‘Even though I’m half quitting acting?’
‘Yeah, but I don’t need you on my screen if I have you in my heart.’
‘Christopher, that might be the dorkiest thing you’ve ever said.’ Nash sweeps him into another kiss, and while this one doesn’t come with cheers – presumably everyone else has moved on with their lives and evenings – it still feels like the start of something. ‘Also, are you wearing glitter?’
‘Yeah . . . and now you are too. Sorry about that.’
‘No sorries needed. It suits you, C-3PO.’
‘Oh good, more nicknames.’ He rests his forehead on Nash’s, and tries for the life of him to catch his breath.
‘Ahem. Are you going to introduce us?’ says Ambrose.
Kit elbows her way forward. ‘Excuse me, I’m his sister. I’m arguably the most important.’
‘I’m his fake ex, though,’ says Haf.
‘And I’m his real ex,’ swoons Laurel, who has somehow got another glass of Thelma’s terrifyingly strong liquor.
Nash looks at him and smiles. ‘And I’m his boyfriend, I think?’
‘Yes, you are.’
‘Cool. I’m Nash Nadeau. The boyfriend.’
They all shake hands and gush excitedly, and this is the moment where Christopher finally sees it. His future, his past, all the people he loves together, celebrating another turning of the year.