No. Not everybody is this stupid,I think.
“Well, just in case it wasn’t obvious, I’ve enjoyed it too,” I tell him and while it’s honest, it feels like a lie because it’s only a tiny fraction of the truth.
“That’s good,” he says, holding my eye contact. “That’s important. But…”
He trails off and his gaze drifts away too. “What?” I prompt him. He did tell me he wanted to tell me something. My heart kicks with what is probably blind, foolish hope.
“We also said if one of us met someone, we’d stop, right? You wanted us to be exclusive and if that wasn’t possible, we’d tell each other. Yeah?”
“Yeah, I did say that.”Because I’m a fucking knobhead. That kick of hope turns into a body slam of fear. Is that what he wanted to tell me? “Are you saying you’ve met someone else?”
“No, no, I haven’t. But if you did… That’s okay.” Marcello swallows so emphatically his Adam’s apple seems to do a full roll in his throat. “I would want you to be happy.”
For a few seconds, I’m convinced that if I open my mouth to speak, there won’t be words but tears. So I keep my lips closed and focus on his fingertips which have now found their way to my forearm, tracing lines back and forth up it. I shift so I can hold his hand in the small space between us.
“I want you to be happy too,” I say because what else is there to say? Or rather, what else can I say when there’s so much more I want him to know, but I don’t think he wants to hear it. And I don’t think I can say it. I don’t think I want to even risk what it would mean for him to feel a fraction of what I feel for him.
Because then it would be about him. All my threes. All the cleaning. He would be the third person. He would be the greatest loss I don’t ever want to risk. I’d rather lose him like this – by forcing myself into a situationship with Tony – than risk getting closer and losing him in any of the other devastating ways my brain will only too happily play out for me. This way, it’s not up to me and my counting and my cleaning. This way, Marcello is safe.
I can't say any of that. But telling him I want him to be happy, I can say this honestly and with my whole heart. I’ll deal with the knife in my chest and the barbed wire in my stomach later. I’ll clean and count andclean and count until some of this pain has worked its way out of my system. And if that fails, I'll go to the gym and try sweating it out.
“And with that in mind.” Marcello’s whole presence changes in an instant. He squeezes my hand and pushes up to sitting. “I got you something.”
He reaches for the wrapped box that he’d placed on the bedside table next to him and holds it in his lap while I also get into a sitting position.
“What is it?” I ask, completely clueless.
“Open it.” He hands it over and our hands brush as I take it. It’s startling but heat flares through me at the touch.
I study his expression for a few seconds, to see if he felt it too, but then I focus on taking the paper off, sliding my finger under the layers to loosen the Sellotape.
“Of course you open it neatly.” Marcello laughs gently and his comment doesn’t sound like he’s taking the piss, which is confirmed when he adds, “You do make me smile.”
I keep my eyes downcast in case looking up means Marcello spots the blush on my cheeks. I pull the box out of the opening I’ve made and I see…
“A jigsaw puzzle?”
“Yeah.”
I stare at the box. It’s a 1500-piece puzzle of a view of Edinburgh from Arthur's Seat.
“What… I mean, thank you,” I tell him and look up searching for some kind of explanation. “But… why?”
“Look,” he shifts back, sitting up straighter, “I hope I’m not overstepping. And you can just throw it away if I am but I thought it could help. With your… counting. And those thoughts that make you count or clean.”
“Oh.” I stare back down at the box.
“One of the better therapists I had when I first got diagnosed with ADHD, she recommended puzzles as a way to get me out of my head. Topull me out of my busy brain and just focus on one thing. I thought I would hate it, that it was a foolish idea, but it really did help. It was also better for me than gaming all night when I couldn’t sleep, and it was also something I could do with others and stay calm and focused. Kris and I did them a lot. Sometimes Mamma and I do them.”
“That’s… nice.”
“Yeah, so I don’t know, maybe it could help you. Especially because it’s something you can do to completion, like your cleaning is for you. You know, it’s something where you can see your progress right in front of your eyes. And I know it’s a bit of a ballsy one to start with but I wanted to get you a puzzle with a number of pieces that’s divisible by three.
“Yeah, I see that,” I say and my smile relaxes the frown off my face.
“But if not, like I said, give it to a charity shop or something. I won’t be offended. Or actually, give it to me. I could probably do with starting again myself.”
“Are you… struggling? With your brain, I mean?”
