Chapter Nineteen
Owen
I hadn’t wanted to go swimming that morning, but Dad had thrown me out of the house as soon as I’d gotten out of bed, telling me he hoped the cold water would shock some sense into me.
“Go and get yer head out yer arse, boy,” he’d said as he practically shoved me out the door. “Maybe then you’ll realise what a mess you’ve made.”
“I already know that,” I’d said sadly.
“Then maybe you’ll work out how to fix it.”
As predicted, Dad had not been impressed with my antics.
I hadn’t planned on telling him about everything with Darcy, but it had all come spilling out as soon as I’d walked back in the door without him.
I’d even told him about my whirlwind marriage and divorce, and my realisation that I always left somewhere before I felt the emotional shockwaves of my decisions.
Except this time, I’d gotten a firsthand look at the fallout from my selfishness.
And it had left me reeling in a way I’d never been prepared for.
Dad hadn’t yelled, that had never been his style, but I’d never seen him look at me with so much stunned disbelief at my behaviour. His damning statement of, “Christ, you’ve properly fucked it, haven’t you?” was probably the best way I’d heard of summing the whole thing up.
I’d thought about trying to defend myself and justify my actions, but I hadn’t fancied digging myself any deeper into the hole I was already standing in. Saying anything else would have been like handing myself the keys to an excavator so I could dig faster.
The cold water wasn’t really providing any more clarity—mostly because I’d been awake until three in morning, mentally taking my entire life apart at the seams—but it was helping to distract me.
For a while, all I had to focus on was moving one arm, then the other, my legs keeping up something vaguely like a solid rhythm of kicks.
I wasn’t going anywhere fast but that didn’t matter. I just needed to keep moving and hope some magical solution to my fuckery found its way into my brain.
The obvious solution was talking to Darcy, apologising, and hoping we’d find a way back to each other. Fuck, he didn’t even have to forgive me. I didn’t know if I would if I was in his shoes. But if I could apologise, maybe we could both move on and find some peace.
I didn’t know if he’d want to see me though. And I was so much of a coward my brain was already trying to convince me the best thing for both of us would be for me to leave and never come back.
Fuck, I really was a piece of shit.
I turned to head back towards the shore, lifting my head in the vague hope I might see my beautiful angel waiting for me on the front. But there was no sight of him.
Why would there be? I didn’t deserve him.
There were two other figures stood on the beach though, and as I got closer, my stomach clenched as I realised exactly who it was: Alfie and Milo.
For a second I debated staying in the water and swimming out to sea, because I knew they were not going to be fun to deal with. And I didn’t totally trust Milo not to summon a secret army of seagulls to beat the ever-loving shit out of me.
But if I really wanted to change and take responsibility for my actions, I had to face them and listen to whatever they had to say. Maybe if I was lucky, they’d help me figure out how to talk to Darcy or at least convince him to give me a chance.
My feet touched the sand and I stood, slowly wading out of the water towards them. The sky was grey and overcast, and there was very little in the way of light, but I could still see the expressions on their faces.
If looks could’ve killed, I’d already be dead.
Milo was angry, I could feel it seething out of every pore even from a distance.
That was something I’d expected although it still wasn’t pleasant.
But Alfie’s look was worse. There was a coldness to it that almost frightened me, gazing at me like I was nothing.
Not even a piece of shit on the bottom of his shoe.
If I’d had a tail, it would’ve been tucked firmly between my legs.
“Oi,” Milo said sharply, beckoning to me with an outstretched hand. “We want a word with you.”
I nodded, wondering if there was anything I could say that would make this better.
No, I decided. There was not.
The waves lapped against my legs as I walked towards them, trying to decide if silence really was the best option. I didn’t want it to look like I was ignoring them though.
“Mornin’,” I said, giving them the most awkward fucking half-wave since the invention of the fucking thing.
“Morning? That’s all you have to say for yourself? Morning?!” Milo stared at me, his eyes almost popping out of his sockets as his moustache bristled, a vein pulsing noticeably in his temple.
“Calm down,” Alfie said quietly, pulling his hand out of the pouch of his Sword & Flame hoodie and putting it on Milo’s arm. I almost wanted to ask what else he had in there, just in case it turned out to be some sort of Bag of Holding or Mary Poppins’s carpet bag.
“Oh, believe me, I am calm,” Milo said with a growl. He glared at me. “What the fuck do you have to say for yourself, you fucking bellend? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Yes, I do. And I’m so fucking sorry. Would you believe me if I said I never meant to hurt Darcy?”
“Yes,” Alfie said. “But mostly because I think you’re a selfish, immature dickhead who’s never considered the consequences of his actions before.”
I winced. His words weren’t anything I hadn’t thought about myself, but it hurt hearing them from someone else. “You’re not wrong.”
“Were you planning to talk to him? Or were you planning on leaving again and making us pick up the pieces of his broken heart?” Alfie continued, giving me a disdainful look, like he was peering right into my very soul.
“Broken? More like fucking shattered,” Milo muttered as he folded his arms across his chest. “Did you know he blames himself for this? Thinks it’s all his fault for getting attached to someone who was always planning on leaving.
Won’t even consider letting you take a shred of responsibility for this. ”
“What? Why would he think that?” My heart lurched, pain lancing through it like someone was trying to rip it out of my chest.
“Because apparently you were clear from the start that this was only for the summer, and he shouldn’t have fallen for someone who treated him so nicely. God, were you always planning to totally fucking bulldoze his self-esteem?”
“N-No, I… I only wanted to make him happy.”
“Happy? Happy?! I should fucking kill you for that,” Milo said, his eyes darkening as he jabbed a finger at me.
If Alfie hadn’t been there, he probably would have punched me.
And I’d have deserved it. “How fucking dare you? You fucking wanker! That man is the furthest thing from happy I’ve ever seen.
He’s skipped grief and gone for full-on nihilism!
He thinks he’s not worthy of being loved.
He’s literally given up on hope. I…” His words trailed off as he growled in frustration, and I could feel the pain behind his words.
Milo and Alfie loved Darcy so much, and I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to watch someone suffer that much.
It was another strike against me, another black mark in the column of my selfishness.
I’d never really been around anywhere long enough to comfort someone going through loss, heartbreak, or grief.
Where I’d once considered the relationships I’d developed on my travels to be deep and meaningful, now I could only see them as surface-level connections.
I might have formed a lot of friendships, but none of them had really gone into that place of deep vulnerability or love.
How could they when I wouldn’t open myself up?
I’d spent so long running from myself, thinking I’d found the true meaning of happiness, when all I’d done was cut myself off from the chance of finding anything real.
I’d closed my heart under the illusion of protecting myself from heartbreak, but in reality it meant I’d never allowed myself to experience anything like love.
Real love, that was. Not lust disguised as love or a fake kind of love I’d forced myself to believe was real.
It was why my marriage was always destined to implode, because I’d had one foot out the door from the start. And I hadn’t loved him either. Not really. I’d just told myself I had because he loved me.
And I’d always wanted to be needed.
“Look,” Alfie said, the coolness in his expression making me shiver. “If you don’t love him or want to be with him, that’s fine.”
“Debatable,” Milo muttered.
Alfie raised his eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Milo didn’t pay him any attention. Alfie cleared his throat and continued, “We’re not going to force you, because Darcy deserves more than someone who’s only with him out of pity. He shouldn’t have to beg to be loved or for someone to choose him.”
“No, he shouldn’t,” I said.
“He deserves the world and more, and if you won’t give him that then you should leave. And you should never come back. But if, if, you ever cared for him, if you want to actually open yourself up to the idea of loving someone other than yourself, then I suggest you consider talking to him.”
“And by talking, I mean getting on your fucking knees and grovelling, wanker,” Milo said. “One simple sorry is no way near fucking enough. I want full-on throwing yourself at his feet and begging for mercy.”
“Do you… do you think he will talk to me?” I asked, looking between them. Their words had given me the tiniest bit of hope, and I was ready to cling to it like a life raft.
“Maybe.” Alfie chewed his lip, looking doubtful for a second.
“I can’t make any promises. You broke his heart, Owen.
His spirit is totally crushed. And I get that this whole situation is probably a lot more nuanced than you walking out on him, that there are a lot of conversations you two should have had before it got to this point.
But this is real life, and people don’t always communicate in the best way.
We’re all messy and imperfect and we make a lot of mistakes.
I’ve done it too. It’s what you do about them though, that’s the important part. ”
“You’re a lot more forgiving than me,” Milo said as he looked across at Alfie, the tiniest smile curling the corner of his mouth. It was a sight which frightened me more than his anger.
“Yeah, well, I’ve made a lot of mistakes this summer too.”
“You didn’t break Jonathan’s heart though.”
“I nearly did,” he said softly, a sadness crossing his face that made my chest ache. “I’m doing for you what Theo and Laurie did for me: giving you a chance to fix your mistakes before you ruin your life.”
“I think I’ve already ruined it,” I said, trying not to give in to the despondency threatening to cling to me. Darcy deserved so much, and I didn’t want to hurt him. Not again.
“If that’s your attitude, then yes you have. But if you try, then who knows? Things might just turn out all right.”
“As long as you grovel,” Milo said. “If not, I will set fucking seagulls on you. It might be illegal to weaponize drones in this country, but there’s nothing illegal about weaponizing birds. Don’t think I won’t do it, because I will.”
“I believe you.” I’d seen Milo feeding the gulls near the bins before and I had no doubt he’d be able to turn them into his own private, demon army. And if there was any bird I wasn’t keen to pick a fight with, it was the British seagull. They were utter bastards.
Looking between him and Alfie, the tiny prickle of hope in my stomach began to spread. I still didn’t really know what I wanted with my life, not completely. But I did know one thing. It had to include Darcy.
Because without him, my life would be meaningless.
I could search the world a million times over and never find someone like him, and I would be the biggest dumbass imaginable to let him slip through my fingers. Yeah, there was a chance he might not want me, but I had to try. If not, I’d never forgive myself.
“Where is he?” I asked as I took a step forward across the cold sand.
“At home, I think,” Alfie said, putting his hand out to stop Milo from following me. “Why?”
I smiled slightly as I turned to jog across the beach to grab my stuff. “Because I have some grovelling to do.”