Page 75 of Glitterland
He sat down on the step, hands folded loosely between his knees and, after a moment, I crumpled down next to him. This felt almost like being back at university except for the gulf of time that stood between the eighteen-year-old I used to be and what was left of him. Though perhaps, for Niall, nothing had changed at all. He was still longing for Max and stuck looking after me.
“I thought a lot about what you said,” he said finally. “You were right about all of it. But I wasn’t lying when I said I went out with you because I loved you. And that I still love you.”
It had been so long that I’d been anything but an obligation to Niall that the words sounded almost like a foreign language.
“And that makes everything all right, does it?”
“It really doesn’t. I’m so sorry, Ash. I lost sight of you. Not because of your illness but because of me.” He stared at his interwoven fingers. “The truth is, I’ve spent half my life loving men who didn’t want me. It’s stupid, but there it is.”
“God. We really do have first-world problems, don’t we?”
Niall gave a soft sigh. “Yes, we do.” He unlocked his fingers and laced them with mine. It wasn’t until he touched me that I realised how cold I was. “Unfortunately, they still hurt.”
I nestled my hand into his. It felt…nice. So nice that I had to say ungraciously, “What did I do to deserve the pep talk? Or can’t you break the habit of trying to save me?”
But he only smiled. “I’m just pointing out that you’ve acted like a complete dick. Because that’s what friends do.”
I pressed my free hand to my heart. “Oh, stop. Before I cry.”
“Wanker.”
“But you wuv me.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
Suddenly I blurted out, “I don’t have his number. I don’t even know where he lives.”
“Facebook? Twitter?”
I realised I was digging my ragged nails into Niall’s hand and forced myself to relax. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I didn’t bother to ask. And, anyway, it doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
“Look, I’m not trying to be your fairy godmother, and, for the life of me I can’t understand it, but it seemed to me you really liked him.”
“I didn’t like him. He just made me feel good. It wasn’t real. It was a biochemical blip.”
Niall shrugged. “When you put it like that, so is everything. That doesn’t make it worthless. Or any less real.”
“Then we’re all mad here,” I muttered.
“We must be,” he said, smiling a little, “or we wouldn’t have come.”
We sat for a while in silence. A round, fat moon, jaundiced by the lights of the city, floated in an ink-blue sky.
“We’re probably missing the dinner,” I said at last.
“It’ll be fine. As long as we don’t miss the real thing.”
I stole a glance at Niall. His face was so familiar to me that I had long since ceased to pay it any attention. Once we had been friends, once we had been lovers. And now we were just two people who knew each other too well, who had—through carelessness, not malice—hurt each other too much.
Finally, I said, “I know I never told you, but…I did care about you.” There was a pause. “I mean, as much as I’m capable of it.”
“Wow.” He looked thoughtful. “You are really bad at expressing your feelings.”
“Shuh…err, shut up. And,” I swallowed. “I did want you. You’re, um, not entirely unwantable. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel…like. Not.”
Niall made such a strange noise that I thought I might have made him cry. But, no, he was laughing. And, laughing, he dragged me into a hug.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I protested. “Let me go!”
