Chapter Twenty-Two
Tyson
Cleaning up the dishes and the kitchen took little time.
Personally, I would’ve preferred we all go back to bed for some physical exertions, but Donovan appeared implacable, and despite everything, Hamish clearly needed to get this off his chest. I could guess, of course, but better that he confirm it.
As Donovan said, if we didn’t know each other’s triggers, we might inadvertently hit a raw nerve.
Not the end of the world—as long as we were strong enough to talk it out.
Jesus. Talking. All my wife had ever wanted to do. And the one thing I hadn’t been willing to.
Okay, that wasn’t fair. Tammy hadn’t wanted to talk about what I wanted to talk about, so I would shut her down any time she tried to get me to converse with her.
Hamish had a surprisingly large sectional dark-gray fabric couch.
I expected Donovan to settle in the middle corner, but he coaxed me into that spot. He tucked Hamish in to my left side while he sat to my right.
We each held mugs. Donovan and I had coffee while Hamish nursed an extra-hot tea. Honestly, I didn’t know anything about tea except English Breakfast probably came from England and likely went with breakfast.
Or so I assumed.
I had learned Hamish preferred it well-steeped and plain.
Donovan, although usually preferring water or spinach protein shakes, settled with a black coffee. I’d added liberal amounts of milk and sugar to mine. Sometimes black worked—sometimes I wanted something that resembled a latté.
Hamish stared into his mug and sighed.
“You don’t—” I tried.
“Yeah, he does.” Donovan cut me off.
I shot a glare at him. Back to being bossy after having unloaded his father’s incest of his sister and his sister’s subsequent suicide.
As well as his father’s ultimate demise and Hamish’s suggestion it might’ve been suicide.
I wasn’t sold on that. I’d only arrested a couple of pedophiles—I didn’t, thank God, work sex crimes—but those I’d nabbed honestly didn’t believe they’d done anything wrong.
They had tons of excuses and justifications for their abhorrent behavior.
“Yeah, I do.” Hamish took a sip of his tea. “I was in my first year of practice. I hadn’t started working at JEAP yet and instead was working in a teen center. I looked young—”
I snickered.
“Younger,” he corrected. “Like I was just out of high school myself. And the administrators believed the kids would relate to me better than someone older.” He winced.
“And I think they were right. I was careful to maintain a professional distance, but I could relate to the kids. I’d been a late bloomer, so to speak.
My growth spurt hit my second year of university.
I’d always been a bean pole with bad acne and a sense of never quite fitting in.
These kids were much as I’d been—many super smart but not wanting others to see it lest they lose their cool vibe. ” He sighed. “Kids.”
“Yeah.” I’d done some mentoring in my early days on the force. Before my father’d gotten sick. Back when I’d had Tammy’s support.
“Then there was Iris.” He ran his finger along the rim of his mug, not looking at us.
“She was a girl out of time—a traditional name and very traditional clothes. She wore prim blouses and long skirts. When I spoke to her, I always had the sense I was speaking to an old soul. As far as I could see, she’d adapted well to life in Canada.
Oh sorry, she was from the Middle East. Her family came to Canada as refugees.
She’d spent part of her youth in a refugee camp, and at times, she struggled with the abundance of her life in Canada.
I mean, they weren’t wealthy, but they had shelter, healthy meals, and she was able to attend a good school. ”
He took a deep breath. Then he looked up, but not at either of us. “She told me she was fine. I’d taken her aside one afternoon just to check in. Somehow she seemed…sadder. Or even more introspective. I tried to talk to her, but she assured me she was fine.”
“You didn’t believe her.” Donovan gently laid his hand on Hamish’s thigh.
“I believed we had a relationship where she could be honest with me. And conversely, I thought if she was really suicidal or something that I’d know. I had a PhD. I knew everything.”
My heart seized at the pain in his voice.
“Well, I didn’t. The next day the program administrator brought me into her office.
She’d seen me talking to Iris, and she wanted to know what we’d discussed.
I was worried she might think I’d done something inappropriate—so I calmly explained we’d just been talking.
And how we’d always been in sight of other adults and then…
” He swallowed. “I could see it on her face. They weren’t worried I’d done something inappropriate.
They were worried I’d said something inappropriate.
” He wrapped both hands around his mug, clearly ignoring Donovan’s hand.
“And she told me that Iris had killed herself the night before. She’d taken a bunch of pills.
Didn’t leave a note. Didn’t give her parents any hint this was coming. ”
“And they thought you’d counseled her to do it?” That didn’t feel right, but—reading between the lines—that appeared to be exactly what he was saying.
He moved his head back and forth in neither a nod nor a shake.
“More that they thought I should’ve seen it coming.
Amazingly, they’d never lost a kid to suicide in this program, which had been running for almost ten years.
They’d decided the program was infallible but I wasn’t.
I must have done something.” He looked up bleakly.
“And maybe I did. Maybe I said the wrong thing. Or maybe I didn’t say the right thing. ”
“You know that’s bullshit.” Donovan whispered the words.
I rescued Hamish’s mug when he nearly dropped it. I put our mugs on the coffee table and managed to snag Donovan’s before he tugged Hamish close.
Hamish went willingly—silently sobbing.
This felt sudden to me. Like it should’ve taken longer to get to the breakdown.
He’s been holding this in for, what, more than ten years?
No one’s seen. No one except us. I’d spotted it, for sure, but Donovan’d been on it almost from the beginning.
I couldn’t explain how he saw the world differently than others—had a perception that most people lacked.
Whether because they were so wrapped up in their own lives, or because Donovan felt things acutely after losing his sister, I wasn’t sure.
Clearly, he’d spent years beating himself up for having missed signs he couldn’t possibly have been expected to spot.
And now Hamish faced losing his vocation. After Iris, he’d found the strength to find another job and to keep working. I wasn’t certain I’d have had that strength. Only, if things went badly, he could lose his accreditation forever.
After a moment, I knelt on the couch next to him and rubbed his back.
Donovan met my gaze over Hamish’s shoulder.
I don’t know why, but I expected regret. Or hesitation. Instead, I saw a grim satisfaction.
Is this what he means by catharsis? Did they negotiate this?
I wasn’t sure I had a simple answer to either question. Or a way to quell the panic rising within me. My turn hadn’t come. Oh sure, I’d mentioned my wife. But she wasn’t the loss I grieved so acutely. Or the wrong I couldn’t right.
A long time passed before Hamish finally pulled back, wiping his eyes. “This is embarrassing.” His shaky laugh broke my heart.
“Let me get you a tissue.” I rose.
“Kitchen or bedroom.” He met my gaze and mouthed sorry.
I leaned over to kiss his tearstained cheek. “You’re beautiful to me, okay? I might not revel in your pain—but I’m glad you endured it to share your heart.”
Hamish glanced over at Donovan. “I’m not certain I had a choice. Even Allie and Smith didn’t know what happened.” He cleared his throat. “I left that organization, did a stint at the cancer ward in a hospital in the interior, then came back, and started working for JEAP.”
Donovan wrapped his arm around Hamish’s shoulder. “Employee assistance work is a brilliant use of your skills. You’ve done good work over the years.”
“You don’t know that.” The protest came out a little weak.
“Do you think Allie and Smith would tolerate someone incompetent?”
“They’ve only owned the company a couple of years.”
Donovan snickered. “And you don’t think they would’ve fired an incapable employee long before now?” He ruffled Hamish’s hair. “Who came before?”
“Agnes Strongman used to own the company. She hired me.”
“And was your boss for…”
Hamish sniffed. “Almost ten years.”
I snorted as I headed toward the bedroom. I would lay easy money he’d spent the last ten years trying to prove himself. The effort wasn’t wasted, of course—he’d helped all those people.
He’d helped Donovan, Cole, Elouise, and Julie.
I suspected, if I let him, he could help me.
After snagging a couple of tissues, I contemplated the bed. And snickered in my mind. Of course, Hamish had made the bed. Why was I surprised? Possibly because, after having made beds for my entire marriage, I pretty much never made mine now?
Yeah, possibly.
I headed back into the living room to find Hamish cuddled into Donovan’s side.
He took the tissues with a weak smile. “You’re next.”
“Can we go for a walk down by the harbor? It’s warmer this morning.”
Donovan arched an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”
I snickered. “Weather report.” The duh was implied.
That eyebrow rose even higher.
“Shit, sorry, that was rude of me.”
“Impudent, even.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Oh, I’m going to make you pay for that.”
“I can’t wait.” I tapped Hamish’s thigh as he blew his nose. “I think fresh air will do you good.”
“Yeah, I think it will.”
He took the hand I offered, and I yanked him up.
Then pulled him flush against me, grabbed him by the back of the neck, yanked him closer, and laid a full-on kiss on his mouth.
I absorbed his surprise and thrust my tongue into his mouth.
“While you two make out, I’ll rinse the mugs.”
Donovan’s sardonic chuckle barely registered as I fitted my pelvis against Hamish’s.
Neither of us was hard—but that wasn’t the point. He needed reassurance from me that I didn’t think less of him because of his vulnerability—because he’d opened his heart to us.
And I needed reassurance he’d be there to hold my hand through my less-than-stellar future retelling of my clusterfuck of a disaster life.
Hamish clung to me as if I were a life raft and we were alone in the ocean.
I pulled back—meeting his gaze. “I’ve got you. We both do. You don’t ever have to be alone again, okay?”
“That’s a big promise.”
Yeah, he was right. A huge promise. Maybe one I didn’t have the right to make. At some point, I would need to leave this place. To go home to my lonely condo in New West. To come to peace with what I’d done, and not done, in my life.
“Let’s go, you two. I’m jonesing for my second coffee. Well, I barely touched my first. There’s a place a few blocks from here.”
Hamish held my gaze for one moment longer before turning to Donovan. “That sounds great. I think I’ve had enough caffeine for one morning.”
I snorted. “No such thing.”
He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Oh, you should see me overloaded with caffeine. Not a pretty sight.”
Donovan snagged each of our hands and tugged us toward the front hall.
We each grabbed jackets.
I was pleased to see we all had warm coats. Donovan and Hamish had wool while mine was a down-filled parka. I glanced at Donovan’s head.
“I’ll be fine. Usually I have a cap—”
Hamish unceremoniously plopped a wool hat onto Donovan’s head.
Donovan scowled.
I suppressed my smile. “At least it doesn’t have a pom-pom.”
He growled.
The sound went straight to my cock.
My strangled cough caught his attention, and he glanced over at me. “You getting turned on?”
I shoved my hands into my thermal gloves. “No. Let’s go.”
Hamish chuckled as he donned gloves as well. “Normally, I wear mittens.” He looked back and forth between the two of us, cheeks pinkening.
“Oh, we’re holding hands.” Donovan also put on gloves. “But let’s go. Now.”
More command.
And obliging him made me happy.
Go figure.