I climb out of bed, tug on my jeans and a hoodie, and head downstairs. He’s nowhere to be found, but the front door is open, letting in a whiff of autumn air scented sweetly from someone burning leaves nearby. He could be anywhere. I’ve learnt this week that he has a charming ability to sidle into social situations fully expecting to be welcomed and adored. And the irritating thing is, he is. The fact that he’s charming, funny, and fully prepared to dish celebrity gossip doesn’t hurt. I sincerely hope he hasn’t signed any non-disclosure forms about some of those people, because he’s a goner if he has.
Voices drift on the breeze, and I hear the familiar wicked laugh that still has the power to liquify my spine.
When I step outside, Xavier is leaning on the fence, talking to Mrs Mac.
They both look up, and Xavi’s face splits into a wide grin. “Here he is. I thought you’d be in bed all day, sleepyhead.”
I shuffle as Mrs Mac looks me up and down. My ears start to burn as her face creases into a knowing smile. “Maybe he needs to recharge his batteries, eh?”
“Hmm,” I say, profoundly hoping we’re going to change the subject. Both of them are grinning, so I’m not expecting any reprieve from that quarter. However, Xavier decides to assist me for once.
“Mrs Mac has given me a recipe for her spiced tea cake. I’m going to make it tonight.”
“Lovely.” Her cake is renowned on the island, and she guards the recipe like she’s taking a stint on the pearly gates. I hesitate. “You won’t be adding anything to that, though, will you?”
He taps his finger on his mouth, visibly enjoying the way my gaze snaps onto the full curve. “Anything? Whatever does that mean? Raisins, coconut, liquid cement?”
“Anything healthy,” I say darkly. “It’scake, Xavi.”
His eyes twinkle. “Depends on how good you are,” he says finally.
“I don’t even know what that means. Please, can we just have sugar as god intended it?”
I hear a bark, which is my only warning before Bernard leaps at me, his big paws landing perilously close to my testicles.
“No, baby,” Xavier chides, pulling the puppy off me before he can do any more damage. “We want Reuben’s parts in complete working order.”
“I daresay Reuben’s parts could do with a couple of aspirin and a lie down in a dark room for a few hours before they start another shift,” Mrs Mac says, and Xavier gives a peal of laughter.
“Oh my god,” I say faintly. “Please take me now.”
She chuckles. “I thought we had wolves back on the island last night when I heard all the howling.”
My face is so red that Xavier might be able to cook dinner on it, but as usual, he has no shame. Instead, he collapses on the grass laughing so hard he has tears in his eyes. Bernard, obviously seeing this as a grand game, leaps on him. I don’t make any effort to help the idiot. Instead, I watch him laughing with a smile tugging on my lips.
Mrs Mac pats my hand, and I turn to her. “He’s the one you were waiting for, isn’t he?” I nod, and she smiles. “Well, I’ll say he was definitely worth the wait. A complete charmer that one.”
“And he knows it.”
“Don’t let this one go, Reuben. He’s exactly what you need.”
“Stubborn, opinionated, irreverent, thinks no laws apply to him, and far too fond of adding vegetables to meals?”
“And who said any of those werebadqualities?”
I stare at her, but she ignores me, wandering back into her cottage, calling goodbye to Xavier. He looks up, joyful laughter still evident on his face. It’s such a difference from the way he’s looked in the recent past that I still blink at the sight.
Don’t let him go? I shake my head. That would be impossible. I’m happy—truly happy—for the first time in my life. How could I not be? I finally have Xavi in all his wilful gloriousness.
I spent many years dreaming of getting him back, but I’d never really been able to imagine what that reconciliation would look like. The reality is that it’s beautifully imperfect. We’re flawed men who somehow connect in a strange way I’ve never felt with another person.
I lean against the fence, watching as he plays with Bernard, unaware of my gaze. Or he could very well be aware of it. Nevertheless, he kindly ignores me.
It’s been a good week. We’ve barely moved out of bed, our bodies coming together fiercely as if reaffirming our relationshipand commitment to each other. There have been midnight snacks eaten naked at the table as we’ve laughed and talked in hushed whispers as if the universe was listening.
We’ve made passionate plans of what our lives will be like together, interspersed with laughter and kisses, and I’ve finally seen him completely relaxed and known what his beauty looks like now that it’s illuminated with real happiness.
My smile fades away as a wave of fatigue hits me. And, god, I refuse to let this happiness be affected bymyfailings. I hate that our new closeness has somehow resurfaced fresh fears in my subconscious. Every night in the past week I’ve woken shaking and sweating with a scream hovering on my lips.
