“I can’t do it all again. I just want to go to the funeral and then never come back.”
Chapter 13
Oliver
Idon’t know what I expected to feel at my father’s funeral, but it certainly wasn’t this – numb. Hollow. A part of me thought it would give me closure, but as Darius and I walk towards his casket, I don’t feelanything. I think my well of emotions have run dry, and really, how much closure can you get from someone who is no longer here?
My mum and Alister had left by the time Darius and I went back downstairs. We walked straight out, shutting the door behind us, and I knew with the click of the lock, that it was the last time I’d walk out of that house.
We sat at the back of the church, slipping in right before the service started. Darius held my hand the entire time and I listened to every word said about my father. Watched my mother cry as she laid flowers on his casket. Watched Alister lead her out, his arm around her shoulder.
Now, I’m staring at the shiny wood encasing the man who was once my hero. I don’t know what to say as I hold the rose, hovering over the place I’m meant to lay it to rest.
Darius places his rose down.
“I didn’t know you and I don’t particularly like you,” he says. “But you had a part in bringing Oliver into the world, and for that, I am grateful.” He takes two steps back, giving me just the right amount of space.
After staring at the casket for what feels like an eternity, I say my parting words. “I had a lot of choices taken away from me as a kid, but I’ve also made a lot of my own. Not always good, and certainly not always the right ones. But the best one I ever made was choosing myself when you and Mum wouldn’t.” I lay the rose down next to the others left by family and friends. “I wish things had been different. I don’t hate you. I have and always will love you and Mum. I will choose to remember the family we were when things were better, but I don’t have a family anymore, Dad.” My vision blurs, hot tears running down my cheeks. “But I’ll be okay.”
I look at the man behind me and know with absolute certainty that those words are true. I may never have a family again and Darius may never love me the way I am sure I love him, but I will be okay.
With one final look at my father’s casket, I turn around, take Darius’s hand, and walk out.
“Can I take you somewhere?” I ask, my words a throwback to the same question he asked me the night we went into London together. “I want to show you the one place I’ll miss when I leave here.”
“Yeah, go on. Show me your world, Oliver Cross,” he replies with a smile.
Darius follows me between the dunes, our bare feet sinking into the soft sand. The air is warm, the day a reminder that summer has only just passed, yet the gentle breeze coming off the ocean signals that now it's September autumn is slowly approaching.
The path widens, opening up to an endless stretch of beach, with a wall of fauna covered dunes at its back. Where we’re standing it’s sandy, but closer to the water, the sand gives way to a plethora of tiny pebbles.
Darius steps ahead of me, giving me a gorgeous view of his lithe frame, with the sapphire blue stretch of sea in front of him. His suit jacket was left in the car along with mine, his shirt is untucked and he’s rolled the legs of his trousers up. He is a picture of dishevelled beauty. I fish my phone out of my pocket and take a photo.
“D,” I call, and he turns his head, looking back at me over his shoulder. He smiles and I snap another photo, saving both in the folder created just for him.
“This is beautiful,” he says, looking forward again. I move to stand next to him, our pinky fingers brushing as we both look at the expanse of sea in front of us, and the gentle sweep of the beach to either side. There’s a man walking his dog along the water’s edge and a couple sitting on the dunes a short way in the distance, but apart from them, there’s no one else this far along the beach.
“It is, but it gets better. Come.” I reach out a hand for Darius and he takes it, letting me lead him towards a cluster of moss-covered rocks that stretch from the sea all the way to the edge of the dunes. We climb over them, making our way between twolarger boulders and into a secluded cove where I stop, putting a hand on Darius’s lower back.
“This is my favourite part of the beach.” Slowly, I undo the buttons on my shirt, peeling it off, leaving me in a white singlet and trousers. Spreading the shirt down on the sand at the bottom of the dune, I sit down on it. Darius does the same, stripping himself down to reveal a silk camisole with a hint of lace at the hem. I cannot take my eyes off of him as he shakes his shirt out, the fabric of the camisole rippling with the movements.
“How did you find this place?” he asks as he sits down, leaning back on both his hands and staring out at the sea. And while I know the view is worth looking at, the view in front of me is a million times better.
“I skipped class one day – I was probably thirteen. I don’t remember exactly why I headed to the beach. I just had this need to get away. That wasn’t unusual for me – by the time I was a teen, I’d got into trouble at school, at home, even had a stern talking to by the police. So it meant nothing to me to duck out of school in the middle of the day. I think maybe it was one of the weeks after my parents had left me with Alister while they went away. Those were always the worst weeks.”
The memory of those days pushes heavily on my chest, and I turn away and look out at the sea, breath catching when Darius’s head lands on my shoulder, giving me a waft of his sweet scent. His leg presses against mine as he does what he’s done since the day we met.
Listen.
“I walked to one of the popular beaches down the coast.” I point in the general direction, though it can’t be seen from where we’re sitting. “And then I kept walking until I found this spot. There were only a few dog walkers around at the time and no one paid me any attention. I figured this is the part people come towhen they want to be alone. A couple of weeks later, I found the shortcut through the dunes.”
A few heartbeats pass as we sit in silence, our eyes on the horizon. The only sound is the delicate rustle of the wind and the gentle crashing of the waves on the shore.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere so quiet,” Darius remarks. “London is never quiet, and growing up, my dad was more of a city breaks and popular resorts for holidays kind of guy. This is…peaceful.”
“It is. I’ve missed it. As much as I didn’t enjoy the start of today, I’m glad we came, just to be here one last time.”
“I’m proud of you.” Darius says, lifting his head to look at me. “For making the trip. For staying and saying your goodbyes. It couldn’t have been easy. But you did it and now you don’t have to worry about having regrets.” I don’t know what to say to that – I don’t know that anyone has been proud of me before, but more than that, I don’t know that I could have done it alone. Which only makes me realise that for the last few weeks I’ve leaned on Darius and all he’s done is give and give and give. He’s listened to me and sat with me while I’ve cried. He gave up his free time to be here with me now, and I’ve given him nothing back.
