He stood stiffly, getting up on one knee first before getting both feet under him. He looked around, wondering what to do with the stuff now that it was out of the wardrobe. The answer was obvious—garbage bags and the charity shop. He went to the kitchen and rummaged in the bottom drawer for garbage bags. He eyed the coffee machine with longing but decided against the time it would take to make a coffee—he needed to get the clear-out job finished as quickly as possible. The faster he got that shit out of the house, the better.
Back in his bedroom, he took most the shoes, apart from a couple of worn-out pairs of runners, and placed them back onto the wardrobe floor. He’d straighten them out later. He threw the sneakers next to the door, ready to put in the bin. All that remained was the sporting equipment. He didn’t own a lot, just the minimum needed—correction,hadneeded—for him to partake in his favourite activities. He hadn’t been into team sports, although he did own some soccer gear, so that was first to go—shin pads and a deflated ball, which had seen better days. He walked to the dresser and rummaged around until he found the nylon soccer shorts and threw them towards the bag. The tennis racket was next. It was pretty much new because he’d only just started taking lessons when…Oh, no. Not going there.He knew there were shorts somewhere in the house and made a mental note to check for them. The tube of tennis balls landed in the bag with aclangas it hit the racket.
He had good quality hiking gear: boots, backpack, water bottle, and other safety equipment. He hadn’t hiked for a long time, and definitely not in the hot weather, although he’d been on some shorter, gentle treks. So long as he took it easy and listened to his body when it told him he’d had enough—there was only so much he could physically do now, but he’d learned to live with the limitations. Okay, this stuff would all go back into the wardrobe.
And that left the activity that caused him the most emotional pain.Swimming. His chest tightened at the thought. Swimming was definitely on the “must go” list. He reached up to the top shelf and took down the sports bag that had been stored there, untouched, for two years. He studied the back for a moment before reaching for the zip. His hated that his hands shook as drew it along to open the bag. He took a deep breath and reached inside, fingers finding towelling. He considered keeping the towel and leaving the swimsuit and goggles in the bag but decided it could all go—he didn’t need the reminder every time he looked at the bright blue striped towel. He removed the small bag containing his showering supplies. Just looking at the body wash and shampoo brought back memories of the wonderful feeling of hot water washing the strong smell of chlorine from his body after an intensive hour of swimming laps. As much as he loved the freedom of moving through the water, the rhythmic and regular pattern of doing laps and the way he could just lose himself in the activity and stop thinking about the world around him, he’d also loved the feeling afterward, like he’d been refreshed inside and out—clear mind and clean body. Sean tossed the bag of bath products onto the bed before sitting on the edge.
He’d first started swimming when he was six. His home had a pool, and his parents wanted to ensure the safety of their kids by making sure they were all capable swimmers. Sean’s brother and sister turned into passable swimmers, and they spent many summers mucking around in the pool together, but Sean had turned out to be more than capable. He’d excelled, and long-distance swimming had become his forte. He’d been on the swim team and placed well in competitions, but the long hours and very early training sessions had taken their toll, with Sean eventually realizing that he didn’t find the competitive aspects of the sport very appealing. Once he’d quit the team, but not the activity, he knew he’d made the right decision. Swimming was something he could do anywhere and anytime—providing there was a pool available, of course—and became the one thing that kept his spirit buoyant.
As he looked at the detritus of his past life, at the man he used to be, Sean felt something inside die a little more. He rubbed his thigh as searing pain hit him in the chest. Last night had shown that he couldn’t go back to the person he’d been, and he’d been an idiot to think he could. Getting rid of this evidence of his past life was the best thing. He had to get used to how things were now and stop dreaming of the impossible. He couldn’t go back, and it looked like he couldn’t go forward either.
He left the garbage bag and sports bag behind but picked up the sneakers on his way out the door. He shoved them into the kitchen bin—no one would want those dirty, worn-out things. He flicked the switch on the coffee machine and reached up into the cupboard for a mug. He made coffee, escaping in the familiar ritual of measuring, tamping, and waiting for the water to make its way through the freshly ground beans. He added a dash of milk and a heaped spoon of sugar to the cup of strong, steaming coffee. As he stirred the drink and inhaled the familiar aroma, it reminded him of the taste of coffee on Jason’s lips. The events of the night before flashed through his mind, resulting in a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew he’d hurt Jason and left him wondering and confused, but he didn’t know what to do about it or how to fix it. He didn’t want to hurt Jason, but he had to protect himself.
His heart was breaking. It felt like he was making so much of a sacrifice. He knew he was falling in love with Jason, had thought maybe he already had, but now knew it could never happen.
And he didn’t know how he would face him at work.
8
“CanI speak with you for a moment?”
Jason looked up and smiled as he saw Joanna standing expectantly next to his desk. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I think it might be best if we have this discussion in private? Okay?”
Huh?Without waiting for an answer, Joanna headed off towards one of the smaller meeting rooms on their floor. Jason looked at her for a moment, then grabbed his notebook and a pen and followed her to the room. The room was designed for one-on-one discussions with a small square table, four blue office chairs, and a phone. He closed the door before taking the seat opposite her at the table. There was a whiteboard attached to the wall, and Jason found himself studying the black and red scribbles the last occupants of the room had left behind before giving his attention to Joanna.
“So, how can I help?” he asked as he opened his notebook to a blank page, expecting she wanted to work together on aligning their campaigns.
“Well, maybe this is a little unusual, but I wanted to speak to you about Sean.” She placed a perfectly manicured hand on his open page, causing him to look up. “Actually, it’s personal.”
Jason looked at her in surprise. “Personal?”
“You know we’re friends outside of work, right? Sean and me, I mean. Sean’s like my little brother. He’s been my best friend for years.”
“Sure,” he replied. “I know you guys are tight. But Jo, I don’t think it’s really my place to discuss Sean with you. Unless of course you need to talk about something work related?”
She had the decency to look slightly sheepish. “I know this isn’t ideal, but he’s my friend, Jason, and I really need to say something. It’s for his own good. Let me be frank. He really likes you.”
Jason’s breath caught. “He’s spoken about me?”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Of course he has! Almost nothing but, for the last few weeks. Jason this. Jason that. He’s been singing your praises.”
For a moment Jason’s heart sang, then his head caught up. “I don’t think he’s told you everything. If he had, I don’t think we’d be sitting here talking now. Things didn’t work out, Jo. He sort of dumped me.”
Jason wasn’t sure if dumping was what Sean had actually done, but it sure felt like it when he’d fled Jason’s presence. The fact that he couldn’t get away fast enough was proof in Jason’s eyes; that and the fact he hadn’t returned Jason’s calls or messages.
“Oh no!” Her brows drew together, and she sighed. “Although, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s pushed you away. A couple of years ago…. Let’s just say there are things you don’t know, things that are Sean’s to tell you, but he doesn’t want to push you away, Jason. I know he thinks he needs to, but he doesn’twantto. I’ve never seen him so happy. The last few weeks were the happiest I’d seen Sean in a long time, maybe even happier than I’ve ever seen him. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to ask you to tread carefully.”
“So what do you want me to do, Jo?” Jason asked, unsure exactly what she expected of him.
“I don’t really know. I just don’t want you to give up on him.”
Remembering his resolve from the night before, he grinned at her. “Oh, I have no intention of giving up. Just the opposite, actually.”
“Oh?” She smiled, finally sitting back and looking relaxed. “You have a plan.”
“Not yet. But I’ll have one soon.”
