***
Matt was woken far too early by the sound of his doorbell ringing. Rubbing his hands over his face to try to make himself feel a little more awake, he trudged to the door. Connor stood on the other side, looking far too cheerful.
"What time is it?"
"Gone ten," Connor replied. "I figured you'd both still be in bed." He lifted a bulging carrier bag so that Matt could see it. "I brought breakfast."
Matt sniffed the air. Goddamn, he loved having a friend who enjoyed taking care of people.
Connor rolled his eyes. "I haven't cooked it yet. Which will give you a chance to get up."
Matt grunted in response.
"Any sign of Sleeping Beauty?" Connor asked as he wandered inside and made his way into the flat's tiny kitchen.
Matt followed him, leaning against the door jamb. "Not yet."
He watched as Connor unloaded the contents of the bag: eggs, sausage, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, and even hash browns. His stomach churned, and his mouth watered at the promise of the full English breakfast.
"You know I have stuff for breakfast, right?"
Connor arched an eyebrow. He turned and opened the fridge, standing aside so Matt could also look into it. The fridge was mostly empty. There was a half-empty carton of milk, a few bottles of beer, and some left-over pizza covered in cling film.
"Right," Connor said, drawing out the 'r'.
"I have cereal," Matt mumbled, although he had definitely been planning on having cold pizza for breakfast; it was the last day it would be good to eat.
Connor pulled open the door of the bottom cupboard beside the fridge. There was a mostly empty plastic packet of Cheerios inside and several tins of beans, but not much else. "Uh-huh."
"I need to go shopping," Matt said defensively.
"You need to take better care of yourself."
"Or I could let you do it for me." Matt winked at Connor.
In response, Connor grabbed a tea towel and whipped it across Matt's chest. "Watch it, or I won't bother making you a portion."
Matt pouted. "You wouldn't be that mean."
"Oh, I would."
The laughter in Connor's voice told Matt that his friend absolutely wouldn't leave him out.
He pointed out the door. "I'll go get dressed. And I'll try to rouse Seb, too."
Connor nodded as he started to pull out the pots and pans he'd need to make them all breakfast.
A shower made Matt feel much more human. By the time he was clean and dressed, he could smell the scent of cooked bacon and sausage, which made his mouth water. He knocked on the door to the spare room but received no response from Seb. He let himself in, leaving the door wide open so that the smell of breakfast would waft inside and tempt Seb's nostrils.
"Wake up, sleepy head," he said, leaning down to shake Seb.
Seb grunted and groaned. "What time is it?" he mumbled. "Where am I?"
"My place," Matt reminded him. "And it's mid-morning. High time you were up. Come on, breakfast is ready."
Seb rolled onto his back and sniffed. "Smells good." He peered at Matt through half-open eyes. "There's no way you cooked it."
"No, Connor did. Come on." They all knew Matt had zero cooking skills. He lived off ready meals and takeaway.
Seb tried to sit up but winced and flopped back down again. He screwed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his face. "I feel like shit."
"You look like shit, too. Maybe that will teach you not to go on a self-pity bender."
"Fuck off," Seb muttered.
"Not until you're up and out of bed. Come on, you'll feel better after something to eat and a pint of water."
Seb stuck his finger up at Matt but dragged himself out of the bed nonetheless. He wobbled until Matt steadied him.
"I need to take a piss," Seb said.
"Too much information."
Matt steered him to the bathroom and then left him there.
"He's awake?" Connor asked when Matt joined him in the kitchen again.
"Yes, and feeling very sorry for himself. He'll be out in a few minutes." He pulled a plate of hot, steaming breakfast towards him. "I'm not going to wait." He began to tuck in, savouring every mouthful of the delicious food he hadn't had to cook. "You can come over for breakfast more often."
"Or you could do some proper shopping and learn to cook?"
Matt screwed his face up. "Never going to happen."
"You have to grow up sometime."
"That's what takeout and friends who can cook are for: so I don't have to adult." He paused and stared at Connor thoughtfully. "You can cook chilli, right?"
Connor folded his arms and narrowed his eyes into a withering stare.
"Just asking," Matt said, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "Can't blame me for asking."
"You're pushing your luck, more like."
"Why is Matt pushing his luck?" Seb asked, shuffling into the kitchen. He sat down and stared at the plate that Connor pushed towards him.
"I'm trying to convince Connor to come over more and cook for us."
"For us?" Seb asked, his brow pinching in confusion.
"Sure. You can stay until you've managed to find a new place of your own." He grinned at both of his friends. "Come on, Con, I'm providing the crash space; you get to provide the food. Do your bit."
Connor laughed and shook his head. "You both know where I live."
Matt exchanged a mischievous glance with Seb. "So, dinner tonight at your place, then?"
"I can't win with you two, can I?"
"You love us really."
"Yeah, yeah, I do," Connor agreed, his voice wistful. "Which is a good thing with you two jokers." His expression became more serious. "Matt thought you might want a hand picking up your stuff."
Seb's face crumpled. "I hadn't even thought of that." He rubbed at his forehead. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't think I can face it today. I guess we have to do it tomorrow though. I've no idea what Craig will do if my stuff isn't out of the flat by tomorrow night." He sighed, looking glum for a few seconds before his eyes suddenly widened. He looked up, staring from Matt to Connor and back again. "I am up for planning our camping trip."
Matt's stomach sank. He'd hoped that Seb had forgotten all about that.
"You were serious?" Connor asked.
Seb nodded. "Yeah. I can't think of anything I'd rather do for my birthday."
Matt frowned. "It was your birthday yesterday."
"Details, details. Come on. It'll be awesome."
"It's November," Matt moaned. "It'll be freezing."
Seb batted his eyelids at him. "I'll keep you warm."
Matt snorted. "In your dreams."
Seb gave them both his best pleading look: eyes wide, lips slightly pursed, head tilted to the side, hands clasped together. "Please? We could go after work on Friday, make a whole weekend of it. As long as you're not working next weekend, Connor?"
Matt stared at Connor, pleadingly.
"I guess I could swap the shift with someone," Connor said slowly.
Matt scowled at him.
"That's settled then. We’re going camping." Seb beamed.
"Where?" Matt asked.
Seb shrugged. "There's got to be a campsite somewhere not too far away. I'll find one and book it." He play-punched Matt's shoulder. "Come on. You know you want to go."
"Actually, I don't," Matt said.
"But you will?"
Matt grunted.
"Connor?"
"Yeah, I'll come. Please tell me you bought a decent camping stove?" he asked Matt.
"Uh…"
"Typical. We're not living off tins of baked beans for a whole weekend, and somehow I doubt Dominos will deliver to a campsite in the middle of nowhere."
Matt pressed his lips together and glowered at the pair of them. But he wasn't going to say no, not to his two best friends. "Fine," he said in his sulkiest tone. He wagged his finger at Seb. "But no snuggling. We'll all be sleeping separately, thank yo
u very much."
"Didn't you buy a double air bed?" Seb asked, his expression mischievous.
"Yes, which is all mine. You two will need to get some camp beds or something."
Seb laughed. "Spoilsport."
Matt prodded his chest. "No snuggling!" He knew his friend was joking with him.
"No snuggling," Seb agreed in a disappointed tone. "I promise."
CHAPTER THREE
Seb
Seb didn't want to pick up his stuff from the flat he had shared with Craig, not least because there wasn't really room to store it all at Matt's place. But Craig had told him his belongings had to be gone by that evening, and he didn't want to risk his things being thrown into the dump. He had five year's worth of accumulated stuff to collect, a thought that left him feeling utterly miserable. How could Craig have thrown away a five-year relationship? One that had felt as solid and steady as a rock until the moment the rug had been pulled from under him. He doubted he'd ever get an answer to that question. He'd asked Craig why when his boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had told him it was over.
"Things aren't working between us," Craig had said. "There's no spark. No excitement. You don't fulfil me."
Seb had been too gobsmacked to ask for more clarification than that. He had felt a spark. He had thought they had a satisfying love life. Okay, sure, they could have spiced things up a bit in the sex department, but to not be given the chance to make things right really stung. Craig must have been feeling like something was amiss for some time, but he'd said nothing. Not one word, until it was too late for Seb to do anything to save their relationship.
He'd warned Craig via text that he was coming and that Matt and Connor would be helping him. It hadn't seemed fair to turn up unannounced. It probably meant that Craig wouldn't be there, which was for the best.
"We've got your back," Matt said as they pulled up outside the block of flats on Sunday afternoon. The flats were aimed at young professionals, so they were pretty trendy looking on the outside.
They'd hired a Transit van so they could take everything in one go, rather than trying to make multiple trips in Connor's small car. They sat three across in the van's cab, with Seb in the middle.
"I guess this is it," Seb said, inhaling deeply. "I take my stuff, and it's really over."
"Do you want some time to talk to Craig first?" Connor asked, twisting round in the driver's seat so he could look at Seb head-on. "Matt and I can wait here."
Did he want to? Seb wasn't sure. Part of him wanted to march in there and talk some sense into Craig so they could kiss and make up and put the whole thing behind them. But too big a part of him was hurt and raw, and even if Craig did take him back, he wasn't sure he could trust the man again. Craig hadn't been happy, but instead of talking to Seb about it, he'd had chosen to end things. He'd robbed Seb of any choice in the matter. What kind of a man did that to someone they'd claimed to love for several years? Besides, Seb wasn't sure he could say one word to Craig without breaking down.
"He probably won't be home," Seb said.
"Do you want to wait here while we go grab your things?" Matt asked.
Seb shook his head. "No. That would be pretty cowardly." He took a deep breath. "Let's just get this over and done with, okay?"
"You're the boss," Matt said, popping the door handle so he could jump out of the cab.
Connor got out of the driver's side. Seb didn't move. Collecting his stuff seemed so final. "Maybe I should speak to him first," he said. "Suggest we try again."
"Is that what you want?" Matt asked.
Seb shrugged. "I want things to be the way they were. I thought we were happy. I was happy."
Had his happiness really been an illusion? They wouldn't have stayed together for five years if Craig had been unhappy that whole time. So, what had changed? When had he stopped 'fulfilling' Craig, and why the hell hadn't they talked about it? Why hadn't Craig given him a chance to fix things? To change? He shook his head. There were so many questions tumbling around in his head, and he couldn't find answers for any of them. They were just rattling around in there, making him feel confused and oddly nauseous. He'd gone over the last few days, weeks, and months, again and again, trying to figure out what he'd done—or not done. But nothing in his memory seemed amiss. They'd both gone about their days like they always had. He sighed. Maybe that was the problem. They'd got too comfortable together and started taking each for granted. Maybe Craig found that boring.
"If he'd just said something—"
"Don't do this to yourself," Connor said, his voice hard.
Seb turned his head to glance at his friend through the open door. Connor looked as close to pissed off as he ever got: his eyes were slightly narrowed, his lips a hard, thin line. Seb knew Connor was right. He would run himself ragged trying to figure out what had gone wrong. The truth was, Craig hadn't cared enough about their relationship to try to fix things. He'd decided their relationship was broken and not worth mending, and he'd called it off. The moment Craig had decided to stop communicating was the moment they'd stopped being a team; Seb had just been slow to realise it.
He slid along the seat and jumped out of the cab on the passenger side, slamming the door behind him. There was a dull thud as Connor shut his door. They all headed to the back of the van and, after Connor had opened it for them, worked as a team to pull out as many empty boxes as they could carry.
When they got to the flat, Seb pulled his key out of his pocket and then hesitated. It felt wrong to let himself in. After all, it wasn't his home anymore. He rang the doorbell, shuffling his feet as he waited.
"I don't think he's home," Matt said after a few minutes had passed.
Irritated, Seb rang the bell again. He'd known Craig would respond to the heads-up by bailing. It wasn't as if he wanted to face Craig, but damn it, wasn't he owed some sort of explanation beyond, 'you don't fulfil me anymore'? He waited a couple of minutes longer and then dug his key out again, jamming it into the lock and twisting it like he wanted to strangle it.
When he swung the door open, he was confronted by yellow Post-It notes on everything, with either 'yours' or 'mine' scrawled on them with a marker pen.
"Seriously?" Matt said, plucking a Post-It note off the lamp that sat on a thin table next to the door. "Craig has issues."
"At least it'll make our job faster," Connor said. "We can take a room each."
"Assuming Craig isn't claiming Seb's stuff as his own," Matt muttered.
Seb's stomach felt like it had fallen out through his feet. Five years of loving another man were reduced to petty Post-It notes. Five fucking years.
He started in the bedroom they'd shared, slamming item after item into a box without much care for their well-being. He was beyond grieving. He was beyond feeling anything except teeth-clenching anger. Bit by bit, his whole life was packed into boxes until only the things Craig had claimed as his own remained.
There was one last thing Seb hadn't looked at: a large multi-photo frame that hung in the kitchen. It was full of selfies of Seb and Craig on the holidays they'd taken together. The note on it read: The frame's mine. Do what you want with the photos. Seb stood staring at it, feeling like his blood might boil to the point of evaporation as he read the note over and over.
"I hate to say it," Connor said, standing just behind him. "But I think you're better off without him."
"I'll second that," Matt said. "The guy's a fucking jerk."
Seb pulled the note off the frame and tore it into tiny pieces, which he let flutter onto the floor. "Yeah," he breathed. "Craig's a jerk. I should've realised it before he dumped me."
Matt wrapped his arm around Seb's neck. "What are you going to do?"
"With the photos?"
Matt nodded against Seb's shoulder.
"Leave them. He can throw them in the bin or burn them for all I care." He tapped Matt's chest twice with the back of his hand, without turning round. "Come on, we're done here."
He picked up the last box and
stormed out of the flat without looking back. By the time he got to the van, his breathing was harsh and ragged, and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Clearly, even though he wanted to be hard-nosed about the breakup, his emotions had other ideas. They swirled within him like a violent tempest, threatening to make him break down sobbing or slam his fist into the side of the rented van. Maybe both. He could definitely see himself doing both.
"You okay?" Matt asked.
It was probably a good thing that Seb's hands were occupied by holding the box. He was getting sick and tired of that question. "I just wasted the last five years of my life. Do you think I'm okay?"
Matt's eyes narrowed slightly, but when he spoke, his tone was admirably patient. "You didn't waste the whole five years. You've got a great job. You'll make partner someday soon."
"But I've also not got a relationship or anywhere to live."
Matt waved his hand nonchalantly. "Welcome back to the single's club. As for somewhere to live… you'll find a place you like, and until then, you can stay at mine. You know I'm not going to kick you out, right?"
"What about all this stuff?" Seb asked, sliding the box into the back of the van alongside the rest.
"You can store some of it at mine," Connor offered.
"Your place is tiny."
"Yeah, but it's just me kicking around there, and most of the boxes will stack."
Seb felt his shoulders stiffen. It wasn't even as if there was all that much for him to carry away from the previous years of his life. Admittedly, he wasn't big into 'stuff'. He hated clutter, and things like his music and film collection were mostly digital. His clothes probably consisted of a third of the boxes and then everyday kitchen and bedroom stuff another large chunk. He wouldn't need any of that while he was crashing in Matt's spare room.
"Let's just go," he mumbled. "We can figure out where it's all going to go later."
He walked towards the cab, becoming even tenser as he heard the resounding slam of the van's back door. That was it. He really was walking away without trying to fight. Not that he could fight unless Craig wanted to; a relationship took two people. He couldn't drag Craig back into his arms; he wasn't even sure he wanted to.
I Wished For You Page 2
