Page 33 of Love Around the Corner

Leo nodded. “He hates me.”

“Hmmm,” Dee said, and sipped her drink.

“He’s got a right.” Leo pulled off his glasses, wiped at his leaky eyes with the cuff of his sweater. The same sweater he’d worn last night, the one Alfie had peeled off him, the one he’d worn while they snuggled on the sofa during that brief glimpse of nirvana. Something caught in his throat, and it came out a sob.

“Oh, honey.” Dee took his hand. “I had no idea.”

“I did,” he sniffed. “I knew he’d hate me once he found out. That’s why I didn’t—”

She tsked. “No, I mean I had no idea you felt so much for him.”

“Didn’t you?” Leo looked up, bemused. “I thought it was obvious.”

She squeezed his hand. “Then why don’t you go make it obvious to Alfie?”

“I have. I did.” He dropped his head, watched his vision blur once again. “He—” Leo squeezed his eyes shut against the memory, felt the tears on his face and dashed them away. “He doesn’t care. I’ve done too much damage. He feels…foolish, I guess. He thinks I was toying with him.” He opened his eyes, fixed them on Dee. “I wasn’t, I swear. I was just…stupid. And afraid.”

“And Alfie’s just angry,” Dee said, setting down her mug. “Shocked, too. Remember how you felt when you first found out who your mystery man was?”

That was true. Leo had been turned upside down that night, he’d felt as if all his foundations had fallen away. And that was without thinking he’d been played for a fool, lied to and laughed at by a man he’d trusted. Loved, even. He doubled over until his forehead touched the table. “Oh God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Yes you are.” Dee sighed. “That is, what youdidwas pretty darn stupid, Leo.”

He nodded, his forehead rubbing against the table.

“I guess the question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Whatcouldhe do? It was over. Alfie had made that perfectly clear. “Do you have a time machine?” he mumbled into the tabletop. “A magic lamp? Three wishes?”

Dee snorted. “No easy fixes, Leo. If you want to make this right, you need to put in some hard work. You have to convince Alfie that you respect him, that you’re sorry for what you did, and that you deserve a second chance.”

He lifted his head to look at her. “But do I?” He felt too heart-sore to know. “Do I deserve a second chance?”

She squeezed his hand and pushed back her chair, standing up. “I guess that’s a question for Alfie. But it’s Christmas, Leo. Magic happens at Christmas if you put in a little elbow grease.”

He thought about that as he crept back to his store, head down, feeling like his shame was sewn in a scarlet letter across his chest. He thought about it some more as the day dragged on, a few more customers than usual coming into the shop on the day before Christmas Eve. Some faces he remembered from last night, which brought a mixture of pleasure and pain. Those happy hours behind the stall, freezing his ass off with Alfie, felt like a different world—the world of before. He’d felt similar after he left Grayson, only somehow this was worse. Because, after Grayson, Leo had burned with righteous indignation. He’d been the wronged party. But this time he had nothing to warm him, he felt only his own cold regret and shame.

What a damned fool he’d been.

He stayed in his shop long after the last customer left, sitting alone among his books. The lights of the little tree he’d bought with Alfie still burned bright, but his heart remained a leaden lump.

The magic of Christmas? Dee might believe in it, but Leo wasn’t so sure. He’d hurt Alfie badly, had seen his lovely eyes clouded with hurt. He never wanted to see it again, never wanted to be responsible for crushing another soul like that. And he needed to make it right. He wasn’t sure he deserved absolution, but at the very least had to apologize to Alfie in a meaningful way. Even if Alfie never forgave him, Leo had to make him understand that he had Leo’s respect and admiration.

But how? What could he do that would be enough, that would demonstrate how deeply he respected Alfie’s mind and heart and soul?

For a long time, he sat in the semi-darkness, watching the moonlight reflecting off the snow and into the shop, casting frosty shadows across the floor. And there, among his books, the answer came to him.

With a heart barely daring to hope, Leo got to work.

***

When Alfie woke the next morning, on a gray Christmas Eve, he felt no better than he had when he’d finally fallen into a miserable sleep last night.

He lay there alone, staring at the ceiling. His bed smelled like fresh laundry because he’d stripped the sheets last night, bundled the lot into the washing machine. He’d thrown out the pizza boxes, loaded the dishwasher with everything Novak had touched. He couldn’t stand any reminders of that pitiful dream.

He’d deleted his messenger app, too, blocked Novak’s number, and after Christmas he intended to buy himself a new phone. A different brand entirely. For now, his old one sat black-screened in the kitchen drawer. He didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want to remember LLB and their slow-burning friendship, because it had been incinerated when LLB—Leo Novak—had seen him sitting in the Whiskey Jack and walked away.

The pain of that truth hadn’t lessened in the day he’d had to brood. Leo had lied. He’d played Alfie for a fool. God only knew what else. Laughed, probably. Maybe he had other friends online and they’d laughed together. Alfie didn’t know. He didn’t know what was real anymore, and it hurt so bad it was difficult to breathe.

---