Chapter Sixteen
Rupert
The longer I tried to ignore it, the more aware I was becoming that something was wrong with me.
I still had no idea what it was, though.
Every time I tried to look directly at it, my feelings became clouded and I couldn’t focus, my brain redirecting me to a new topic or a different issue, like I was a cat it could distract with a laser pointer.
It was starting to frustrate the fuck out of me, and I didn’t know what was going on.
I’d tried to become more self-aware of my emotions in the last few years, thanks to therapy, but it was hard to be self-aware when the feelings were hiding from me.
Vaguely, I suspected it was something to do with Milo and our not-relationship. But that was as far as I’d gotten. At some point it would probably all burst out of me, ugly, raw, and unfiltered, and then I’d ruin everything.
That knowledge wasn’t helping. In fact, it was making me feel worse, but I didn’t know how to deal with it.
“Rupert, darling, I can hear you thinking from here,” Norman said, curling some ribbon attached to a gift box he’d been packing. “You’ve been sighing and stomping around all week. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sorry.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
“I’m not lying.”
“And my favourite waistcoat is yellow,” Norman said with a pointed look. I sighed and slid the tub of bonbons I’d been refilling back onto the shelf.
“Fine, there is something wrong, but I don’t know what it is. And every time I try to figure it out, I can’t and it’s making me feel worse.” I was aware I sounded sulky and petulant, but my frustration was really starting to get the better of me.
“Ah, one of those situations,” Norman said. “They are always very vexing. Would you like to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“How about you talk at me about it? Sometimes that can help I find. Monologuing is an excellent tool to get to the heart of a situation, both in plays and in reality.”
I chewed my lip as I thought about his proposal.
On the one hand, what he was suggesting made sense.
But on the other, what if I talked it out with him and didn’t like the outcome?
Or what if he judged me for the things I said?
I couldn’t bear it if I said something weird or rude—anything that would make Norman think badly of me.
“If you’re thinking I’m going to judge you, then yes, I might.
But I can promise you I won’t hold anything against you,” Norman said with a fond smile.
“Anyway, I can guarantee you I have said, thought, and done worse than you. As Sidney will tell you, I am a bitchy, petty, vindictive queen, and always have been. It’s my best and worst feature. ”
“At least you’re honest about it,” I said, not sure if Norman’s words were making me feel better or not.
“Of course, darling. And I can promise I’ll always be honest with you too. We’re good friends, which means you’ll always know where we stand. If we weren’t, I wouldn’t tell you what I thought.”
I chuckled. “If that’s what you’re like as a friend, I’d dread to have you as my enemy.”
“Oh you wouldn’t even know.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Remember, you should always keep your enemies close and deal out revenge in small doses. Like telling them something is flattering when it’s not.”
“I’m not sure I’d have coped knowing you when you were younger,” I said. “You must have been vicious.”
“I was, but only to those I didn’t like. And Sidney when he deserves it. Don’t worry, he gives it all straight back.” He put the scissors down and looked at his finished gift box. It really did look very pretty. It was why I tried to leave all the packing to him.
“Now,” he continued. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to force it out of you?”
“Fine, but I can’t promise anything I say will be rational.”
“The only rational people in the world are serial killers, Rupert, and I highly doubt you’re one of those. If you are, I shall require more bribery to hide your true nature from the police. Cash only, please. Then I’m less likely to get caught.”
I snorted. “Thanks?”
“You’re welcome.” He waved his hand at me to continue talking as he reached for an empty box to start packing another gift basket.
In the next few weeks we’d have to start packing for Christmas, and that would be chaos.
Perhaps I’d ask Milo to come in and give us a hand so Norman didn’t murder me when I started to panic and overthink everything.
“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Norman.
And I don’t know what’s causing it either.
Half the time I’m fine and then sometimes I get this weird tightness in my chest, like a knot or something is resting on it.
It comes and goes too. At first, I thought it was simply anxiety, and maybe it is, but I don’t even know what I’m anxious about.
Part of me thinks it’s about Milo because I still have no idea what we’re doing, and I’m not sure how long any of this will last. I mean, we spent months antagonising each other and now we’re having dinner together three nights a week, we have a list of films to watch, and he’s sleeping in my bed. And I still don’t understand why.”
I sighed and took my glasses of, digging a cleaning cloth out of my pocket to wipe the lenses. Not because they were dirty but more because I needed something to do.
“You know, I’m not sure we’ve ever really talked about the summer,” I continued.
“About why we were so terrible to each other. We’ve not talked about what changed either.
One day we were at each other’s throats, and the next he was helping me bring boxes in and unlocking the door for me.
None of it makes any sense. And I guess…
I wonder… what if he gets bored of me? What if I’m nothing more than a passing hyperfixation he’ll move on from in a few months?
What if this is nothing but a vague amusement to pass the time?
What if one day I wake up and he’s decided he’s bored and that’s it? ”
“What would that feel like, do you think? If it happened,” Norman asked softly, not meeting my eyes as he carefully slotted chocolates and little bottles of sweets into the box.
“It would hurt,” I said, looking at the jars of sweets on the wall but not really seeing anything except vague shapes and colours, the neat text on the labels all blurring into one.
“Why?”
“Because I like him. But… But it’s more than that, I think.
I don’t want to be thrown away like I meant nothing.
Like all of this didn’t matter. I don’t want things to go back to the way they were, especially without a good reason.
” The words were heavy in my mouth, but as soon as I said them, I felt something simultaneously tighten and relax in my chest.
I put my hand on my sternum, almost doubling over as I gasped, my eyes suddenly prickling with tears.
The reaction felt ridiculously dramatic and I tried to push it away, straightening up and letting out a long breath.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at Norman, afraid of what I might see in his gaze.
Would he judge me for this? Probably. I would if I was him. I must have looked ridiculous.
“Do you think that would happen?” Norman asked, the sound of rustling filling the air as he added more shredded paper to the box. And when I glanced over my shoulder, I realised he wasn’t even looking at me.
“Perhaps? I don’t know anything about his past relationships or why they ended. He hasn’t really mentioned anything.”
“Did you ask?”
“Of course not,” I said. “Why would I?”
Norman hummed and I wondered if I’d missed something. “Did you mention any of your exes to him?”
I shook my head. “No. Not that there’s much to talk about, at least not recently. Besides, I’m not even sure why half those relationships ended. The only reasons I ever got were we weren’t a good fit, they were moving away, or they didn’t want a relationship. Not exactly enlightening.”
There was a good chance that most of those were casual, surface-level excuses given to me to avoid a deeper conversation, but I’d decided long ago not to speculate on other people’s reasons for dumping me if they weren’t willing to be honest. That way lay madness.
But maybe that’s why I was getting so worked up now?
I couldn’t bear the thought of Milo moving on with his life and leaving me behind without giving me a reason.
Because how could I go on knowing the deepest connection I’d ever felt meant nothing to the man I’d forged it with?
If this was nothing more than a game to him, a way to pass the time over the winter, then that would destroy me.
I didn’t want to be used and thrown away. I wanted to be loved.
I needed it, craved it, right down to my soul.
Just the idea of being rejected was agony, the potential hurt making my bones ache and my skin feel like it was splitting apart. Even the thought of it made it feel like my heart was being ripped from my chest, my stomach lurching as if I was constantly two seconds away from throwing up.
Rejection, perceived or real, had always been painful for me. But this? This was an entirely new level of torment.
“Have you talked to Milo about how you feel?” Norman asked and I shook my head.
“No. I can barely even admit my feelings to myself. How can I talk to him about something I’ve only just figured out?”
Norman looked up at me then, sadness crinkling his face. “You know you don’t have to have all the answers first, don’t you? It’s okay if you’re still working things out, Rupert, as long as you talk to him.”
“But what if… what if I talk to him and he rejects me? What if he doesn’t want me? What if he tells me this means nothing? I couldn’t bear it, Norman. I… fuck!” My chest tightened impossibly, tears stinging my eyes again as I gasped, suddenly choking for air.
“Oh, darling.” I heard Norman moving and two seconds later felt his warm, wrinkled hands enveloping mine, squeezing them tightly. “It’s okay to be scared. Being vulnerable is terrifying.”
“It hurts, Norman. Oh god, it hurts so much. And it’s not even real. Not yet.”
“I know.” He squeezed my hand again. “It hurts to put yourself out there, to let someone shine a spotlight on you and see all the parts of you that you dress up and hide from the world. But you have to be brave, Rupert. You have to let him see you, all of you. Even the ugly things you’re afraid of.
Because you are beautiful, and you deserve someone who loves you just the way you are.
I know it’s terrifying, trust me, I know.
But listen to an old queen, it will be worth all the agony when you realise you’ve found someone who wants every part of you. Okay?”
“How can you be sure?” I asked, clutching at his fingers and sniffling. I hated crying, especially all the annoying extras that came with it, like a horribly snotty nose.
“Because I’ve been there,” he said gently. “We’re more alike than you think. Only I hope you’ll be a lot better than me.”
“How did you know? With Sidney.”
“That’s easy. He was the only one who stuck around, even when I behaved truly terribly.
I tried to push him away multiple times, but he wouldn’t leave.
We might be vicious to each other, but I love that man more than anyone I’ve ever met.
He’s the other half of my soul.” He smiled softly, then squeezed my hand, a glint returning to his eye.
“Only, don’t tell him I said that. He’ll be so smug I admitted it to someone. ”
“I won’t.” I sighed and slowly let go of one of Norman’s hands to wipe my eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Here.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to me so I could dry my face and blow my nose.
“Thanks. For everything. I appreciate you listening to my rambling.”
“Of course.” He patted my hand. “It’ll be all right, I promise. But you have to talk to him, Rupert. Don’t wait around for the right moment, because there never is one.”
“Never?”
“No. Even in plays there is only ever the most dramatic moment, not the right one.”
I smiled and nodded, wondering if I’d take Norman’s advice or not. It all made sense, but I couldn’t be sure I’d actually listen because my brain tended to prioritise avoiding action in any situation that might lead to me getting hurt, even if the outcome could be a good one.
At least I knew what was bothering me now. But I didn’t feel any better for it.
I almost felt worse.
The problem was out in the open, under a giant spotlight, and the only way to deal with it was for me to push past my fear of rejection and take the initiative. I’d probably have more luck teaching Lizzie to play the piano.
I didn’t have to do it now, though. Or even this week. It wouldn’t matter if I waited a while. Figured out what I wanted to say and got my thoughts in order. Milo and I could still hang out and fuck. After all, I didn’t want him to get suspicious.
And sex was an excellent distraction.
I put Norman’s handkerchief into my pocket, promising to wash and return it, and then retreated to the back of the shop under the guise of getting a drink. Instead, I pulled out my phone and opened my thread with Milo, a tiny smile playing across my lips as I typed.
Whatever happened in the future, at least I could still hoard his attention now, collecting memories like a dragon to relive later when everything changed.
I could remember his touch, his kisses, his moans, the taste of his adoration and sound of his obsession with me.
Those thoughts would get me through the dark nights when all I had left was myself.
Rupert
What are you doing right now? I’m doing stock take and thinking about the other night, the way you begged when I rode you and the sound you made when you came inside me. I want to feel you inside me again.
Milo
Fuck Rupert, you can’t just say that to me! I’m getting hard in the middle of Tesco!!
Rupert
Come round to mine later and I’ll make it up to you. I promise <3
Milo
Can’t wait, sweetheart. You’re going to look so perfect bouncing on my cock.
Rupert
Yeah? Tell me what you’re thinking about