Harold raised his hand with a mild smile. “I know… but it’s only temporary… he needs to see his parents, arrange whatever with Qantico, and get some rest. And you will be busy. Besides, six years together, just the two of you? You might use a break.”
“No fucking way.”
Harold’s smile died. “Damian… how to put this mildly? You can’t get off that jet and face the press with him. Not with a man whom you’ve spent six years with on a deserted island. People will talk.”
“Let them talk! Who cares?”
“Actioners. Investors. The board. This is the company we’re talking about. Let’s soften the blow, ok? Not make a statement when there might not be anything?”
“What do you mean?” His face falling, feeling Gabe breathe next to him.
“I mean… I get it, ok? Six years… a long time. One needs a hole to fill, right? But let’s not get carried away…”
Gabe watched, in a daze, that shadow of a blur as Damian stood and grabbed Harold by the collar of his shirt. A silent move, fast, strong. Holding that man tight against the wall, his eyes blazing. “Gabe is not a hole.” Harold was trying to speak, trying to draw breath, his eyes wide on those cool steel eyes, that ice voice. “Not a hole, not temporary. He’s my husband. Get it? Do you fucking get it?”
He nodded, breathing hard when Damian let him go, gutted. He sat next to Gabe as if nothing, taking his hand.
Harold readjusted his tie and shirt and sat, smiling. “Wow… ok… a bit on the edge, eh? No worries. I get it. Alright. I would still ask you to stay a bit apart. Just until we get things back in order.”
Damian looked at Gabe, and he just forced a smile above his dread. “I don’t mind…”
“You want to see your parents?”
“Yes… and I want what’s the best for you.”
Silent, just their eyes speaking.
Damian turned to Harold. “Fine. Just a couple of days.”
“We’ll see, ok? Look, I have phones for you.” He took two phones out of his bag, holding them in his palms.
Damian took that smooth glass rectangle. “Where… where are the buttons?”
Harold’s heart sank. “Oh, wow… ok. It’s a touchscreen. Push that button on the side and swipe. Like that.”
Damian did, a bit puzzled. “This is it? Only the screen.”
“Yes. All the essential apps, too. Your phone numbers are in them. You know, not to lose touch. I made you an email too, but you have time to catch up with work. Let’s get used to things here first. So… could you dress up and we’re gone. I mean, I guess that’s what you have, but shoes on, ok?”
Gabe and Damian exchanged a look, but then pulled socks on and shoes they found in that cupboard. After six years of living barefoot, it felt like torture.
Damian pulled a face when he got up. “God… they’re super tight…”
Harold whacked him on the back. “You’ll get used to them soon. Come on.”
They walked behind him to that helicopter waiting on that sunny deck. Breathing in deep as the wind caught their hair, and Damian closed his eyes, thinking for a moment they were back in that haven of peace. The rotors’ deafening noise blasting that illusion. That slick white helicopter, gold letters. Bourne Land Development. A soft shock in him, but Harold grabbed his hand and pulled.
“Come on. Let’s go. This is a new one. Like it? Pretty swift.”
Climbing on board, putting the headphones on. “Welcome on board, sir.” An unknown voice. They just held tight as the helicopter took off, flying above that endless sparkling blue sea, the soft waves, and Damian’s eyes welled up, a sudden picture of Walter invading his mind. Knowing that somewhere, on a tiny island in that vast blue, a pig was mourning, too. He closed his eyes, but rogue tears spilled, sliding down his battered skin. Gabe just leant his head on his shoulder, utterly drained. Holding his trembling hand.
They had landed on top of a huge hotel and Harold brought them to a large suite, a breath-taking view of the ocean.
“Here. I’m next door, just shout if you need anything. Tomorrow, you have appointments at the hairdresser, and the spa. Get your bodies back. I’ll leave you. Dinner will be brought up, just order it when you’re hungry.”
He left and Damian walked to that large floor to ceiling window, that sterile air conditioning chilling the room when the sun was playing on those mute waves. Gabe stepped next to him, silent. Waiting until he turned to him.
“I don’t want you to go…”
