Page 92 of Glitterland
“Darian, you’re more than all right. You’re—” I looked up wildly. “—amazin’.”
“But,” he finished, ignoring me, “all you ever saw was a bargain basement bang.”
He was so right and so wrong. I’d certainly treated him like one. “No. I mean. At first. But, Darian, only at first. And maybe not even then. In Brighton, you were just supposed to be a stranger, but I kept seeingyou, and then I wanted you, not the stranger.”
He smiled then, but it was not a happy smile, and I missed his glittering pirate grin with an intensity that made my eyes burn with fresh tears. “Brighton, eh. I’d nevva met anyone like you. You was like so sad, I just wonnid to make you smile.”
I reached out in desperation and took his hand. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t participate either. My fingers curled around his, begging for a response. “I’ve never met anyone like you either.”
“Yeah, I’ve ’eard that one before.”
“Darian, please, I don’t know how many times I can tell you—”
“Well,” he cut in sharply, “I dunno if you noticed, but I’m a bit thick so you might ’ave to say stuff slow and use small words.”
What had I done? If I hadn’t been clinging to Darian, I might have slumped to the floor with the sheer misery of it all. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I know I’ve made you think I do, but I don’t, I don’t, I never did, and you’re breaking my fucking heart.” I dashed fresh moisture from my eyes with the heel of my spare hand. “Will you stop it?”
Suddenly his fingers tightened around mine. “Aw babes, I’m sorry, don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” I wept. “I’m just frustrated. I keep trying to tell you, but you won’t listen, and you won’t believe me.”
He sighed. “I know I said I wasn’t, but I’m a bit narked, okay? I can’t help it. And, like, confused as well.” His thumb moved absently over the back of my hand, as though he couldn’t help but try to soothe me. “Cos it’s beenmonfs. And you show up ’ere out of nowhere, wif no warning, no nuffin, to tell me…I still dunno what. That I’ve spent all this time getting over you for no reason cos it was all a big mistake?”
I crept forward another step, my body aligning to his, not quite touching but on a technicality only. “I-I know what I said at the wedding, and I know I treated you like you didn’t matter.” I swallowed, struggling with my truths, and staring instead at our entangled hands.
“Yeah?” Darian’s voice was as gentle as the brush of his thumb against my skin.
“It wasn’t…it wasn’t that I didn’t care.” I bent my head and swiftly kissed the muddle of fingers, half expecting Darian would pull away, but he didn’t. “I cared too much.” My courage, usually the most faltering and unreliable of flames, flickered into sudden life, and I looked up. It was as though Darian had been waiting for me, his eyes so steady on mine and as infinitely blue as the promise of high windows. “I was terrified, okay? Because of how happy you made me, and how much you made me feel.”
He nodded slowly. “Wish you’d just come after me, babes.”
“So do I.”
“Then why,” Darian’s voice rose, “the fuck didn’t you?” Shock flashed across his face, most likely mirrored on my own, because it was the only time I’d ever heard him swear. Then he pulled himself out of my grasp and reeled away. “I was right there,” he finished, not looking at me. “And then I was right ’ere.” He took a few loud, slightly unsteady breaths.
How heedlessly and how deeply I had hurt him, too preoccupied, as ever, with my own pain and uncertainties. I wanted to go after him again, as if holding him physically could somehow bridge these other chasms, but I had already spent too long thinking only about what I wanted. I looked after him helplessly. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He turned back slowly and then shrugged. “You really did, y’know.”
“I know.” I twisted my bereft fingers together. “I just wanted you so much that I thought I didn’t deserve to have you.”
“I’m not a Scooby Snack, mate.” He frowned at me. “It ain’t up to you whevver you get to ’ave me or not.”
“I know. It was fucked-up and unfair.” I tapped the side of my head. “Kind of mental, remember? But I know that doesn’t make it any better.” I met his gaze and tried not to flinch. “But now it’s up to you, Darian.”
“What is?”
Could I bear the rejection? Probably not, but I had come this far. For him. I could do this for him.
One right thing. Let me do one right thing.
He held me in the blue-grey horizon of his eyes, and I wasn’t sure if I was drowning or flying, if I jumped or if I fell. “Whether you forgive. And”—oh God—“whetheryouget to haveme.” Oh God. “Or not.”
His expression barely changed, but there it was. Finally. Some curve of his lip or the brightness in his eyes, like the gleam of light at the heart of a pearl. My Darian, my glitter pirate. The man I wanted. The man who wanted me.
I rushed on. “I know I have no right to be here, I know I have no right to ask, but I just thought if I came and…stood in front of you, and explained, and tried not to fuck it all up too badly, you’d see that I…really like you, I’ve always really liked you, even when I’ve been awful, and, really, I’m just standing in front of you, asking you to—oh, shitting hell.” Where the fuck had that come from? Even if I were the sort of man to make those sort of declarations, I’d like to hope I’d at least use my own words and not those of a cheesy romcom from the late nineties.
But Darian’s face lit up like Christmas. “Aww, I love that film.” He gazed at me expectantly. “Go on, then.”
