“I’ll go and see your boss. I’ll explain.”
“Please don’t” he replied. “I can’t guarantee what will come out of your mouth and I don’t want to chance it.”
“I’m sorry.”
He sighed, shaking his head before looking up to the sky. “You’re leaving?”
“For a while,” I confirmed, ignoring the devastation on his face. He ruffled the back of his head with his hand, leaving it there as he glanced at me.
“I think you’d better come in.” Part of me didn’t want to because he was nerdyliscious and I was vulnerable, and I didn’t need sex to throw us off. Stay in the living room and keep your eyes to the floor. But I knew I owed him an explanation and I wasn’t ready to walk away.
I walked behind him and the first thing I noticed were boxes, marked with various things such as clothes and books.
“What’s going on?” I asked, looking around.
“I’m moving out,” he replied. “I can’t stay here.”
“Why?”
“Two reasons. One, I can’t afford to stay here without a job and two, Gav wants me out.”
“Can he do that?”
“I’m a lodger. He can do what he wants.” I felt sick. Will threw the photo frame of us –Stacey cut off at the shoulder– into one of the boxes marked Will’s junk. I ignored the sting. “I didn’t realise how much he wanted the promotion,” he replied. “Not a great feeling to be stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a mate.” His words hung heavy in the air. “So, I’ve lost my job, my home…and now it appears I’ve lost you, too.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, moving towards him. He took a step back and those folded arms returned, defending himself from…me.
“I worked my way up from nothing Skye. What the fuck am I going to do now?” He shook his head. “I’ll get a name for myself. The porno guy. I’ll never work again.”
“’I’ll help you,” I said, “We’ll find something. You can stay at the flat until you find somewhere else–”
“Stop trying to fix things!” he said, his voice climbing slightly. “You can’t fix this. I deserved that fucking promotion, Skye! Now, I haven’t even got a job.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to do it.”
“You think?” He sliced his hand through his hair as I covered my mouth. He caught my shock and blew out a frustrated breath. “Shit, sorry, that’s not fair.”
“It is,” I replied. “I ask you to do this ridiculous stuff all the time and–”
“I could’ve said no,” he said, “but you know I never would.” He sat down on the arm of the chair. “That doesn’t mean I’m not pissed, Skye.”
“I know,” I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not ready for sorry.”
I looked around at the boxes. “Where are you going?”
“Staying at my parents.” He glanced at me. “Can’t wait to have that conversation with them about why I’ve been sacked.”
“I can come with you,” I offered. “Explain it was all my idea.”
“No,” he replied, softly. “That won’t help. I need to fight my own battles, the same as you.” I nodded. “Anyway, I’ve got an interview lined up, so there’s that.”
“That’s great,” I replied, thankful for some good news.
“Not really.” He shrugged. “It’s for a shitty local paper in Scotland. I’ll be covering local fishing and obituaries.”
“Oh.” His words settled. Interview. Scotland. “Wait, Scotland?”
“Yeah. It’s my only option right now. I can’t afford to be without a job for long. Once the dust settles, I can start looking in London again.”
My insecurities bubbled to the surface mixed with anger and the familiarity of loss that defined my life. “So, you’re running away,” I said, losing my breath through anxiety and pain. “You can’t do that, Will. Tomorrow, go back to your boss and tell him he’s making a huge mistake. You were perfect for that job and you’re letting them treat you like this just because you helped me spread a vital message, not through filming some dirty porno!”
“It’s too late for that, Skye! This business is savage. I’m replaceable. We all are.”
“Don’t run,” I pleaded.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” he shot back.
“I’m not running, I’m seeking help. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?”
“I want you to heal,” he replied. “I want you to forgive yourself.”
“I know what you’re doing,” I said pointing my finger and pacing. “You know my defence strategies too well. I should have seen this coming. I not sure if this is fuelled by anger or love.”
“What?”
“You’re leaving me.” I hated myself. Despised that my mind went straight to that place of familiarity.
“No, Skye. I’m pissed and I need space and yes, there’s a difference.”
“No, you’re taking my right to push you away.” He raised his eyes and sighed. “To get rid of the fall before I crash to the floor. To be in control like I always am. You…doing this–”
“That’s fucking madness,” he said, jumping up. “Can I just remind you that you came here to tell me you’re leaving.” I hated that he held so much anger, hated even more that I wasn’t sure if it was totally directed at me.
“When are you going?”
“Tomorrow first thing.”
“Were you going to tell me?” I asked. “You haven’t replied to messages for the last few days.”
He sighed and adjusted his glasses. “I think we both need space from…whatever this is.”
“Us?”
He nodded and I admitted defeat. We’d reached a conclusion. Found a mutual way forward. I joined him on the chair, and we sat in silence, my mind racing as I realised how selfish I’d been to expect him to put his life on hold and wait for me while I sorted my head out in Amsterdam.
“Skye, I think this will be good for both of us.”
“You do?” I whispered.
“There’s too much other stuff in the way.”
“In the way of what?”
He laughed lightly. “What I hope we can be.”
“I’m sorry it’s come this,” I replied as he put his arm around my shoulder.
“Don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “I think it’s exactly where we need to be.”
26
Will
2 months later
I hadn’t been in Brighton for a while and I missed the charm of the place, the quirks and the eccentricities but I wasn’t sure I was ready for this, whatever this was. Facing up to what I’d tried not to obsess about for the last couple of months or just enjoying a nice meal together, a casual catch up…I wasn’t sure.