Charles sighs. ‘I’m sorry, Alex. For what it’s worth, I hated hiding this from you.’
‘It’s not worth shit! You lied! And you were crazy good at it. How am I to ever trust you again?’
‘Overdramatic much?’ Phil rolls his eyes and shrinks to avoid an elbow kick.
‘You, you could have shared your suspicions!’
‘No. I figured Ledwell had valid reasons to play it close to his chest. And George knew as well. Bark at him.’
‘George informed us long ago that he’d sell our organs on the black market to help Charles, I’ve made my peace with that. And give me one valid reason to bamboozle your friends about your love life?’
‘Off the top of my head? Milton.’
Alex opens his mouth, only to shut it close. He folds his arms, visibly reluctant to tone down his vexation, but raises an eyebrow at Charles.
‘Yes… I wanted to spare myself a bunch of stressful and humiliating dinner conversations. And it was just easier to put on the same act in front of everybody. But it wasn’t a complete scam, you know. I was involved with Elsy in many ways. We were… in an open relationship.’
‘But that’s over? How come?’ Phil spreads his legs back over Alex’s now that he’s calmer. ‘You don’t give a shit about Milton anymore? Or is he less of an arse?’
‘There’s a bit of that.’
‘That Charles doesn’t give a shit.’ George gets up to reach the drinks cabinet. ‘Milton is more thanever a world-class fuckhead.’
Charles shoots him a warning look. He’s not planning on sharing the truth behind Fred’s accident tonight. The general indignation it would inevitably provoke could supersede the enthusiasm he’s hoping to stir with his personal news. Alex’s caring nature has already bristled at the comment.
‘But nothing new here,’ George completes, filling up a glass. ‘Our boy is just done denying himself what he wants.’
‘An open relationship with Elsy Buchanan isn’t what you want?’ Spencer frowns. ‘Sounds like heaven in my book!’
‘There’s been an unexpected twist in mine. I’m… seeing someone else.’ Charles takes a deep breath and exhales a brittle laugh when George gives him a large whisky. ‘Thank you.’
‘Amen to that!’ Phil claps his hands again. ‘Do tell!’
‘So we’re supposed to instantly move past your deception and be happy for you?’
‘You do you, Alex.’
‘No, you don’t do you,’ George replies sternly as he takes back his seat. ‘The answer is yes, we’re happy for him.’
‘Relax, Daddy Bear. You know I love love, I’m gonna be chuffed in a minute.’
‘It’s not fair,’ Spencer grumbles, tapping the top of his cast with his bottle. ‘If you swear off a perfect relationship, join the back of the queue. Let the poor souls single since forever go first.’
‘I don’t think you’d be interested.’
‘We’ve got similar tastes!’
‘His name is Loris. He’s my boyfriend. I… I have a boyfriend and his name is Loris.’
This is another declaration that sounds perfectly right, but it echoes heavily when the room goes silent again.
Side-eyeing George, Charles drinks to burn the butterflies jostling in his stomach.
His friend is watching the group and, obviously tickled by what he’s observing, he mouths, ‘Three, two, one…’
‘You’re gay?’
Charles takes an extra sip and turns towards Spencer, who’s so hilariously bemused, it relaxes him a little.
