Page 145 of Reckless Hearts
Because it’s obvious after less than a minute in the pub that Jamie is completely miserable without Tim.
Tim’s back in New Zealand, miserable without Jamie. Jamie is here in London, miserable without Tim.
Love just seems to be one giant pit of misery.
Jamie and I stick to generic conversation to start, but when I’m recapping our recent Rainbow Rascal game, I accidentally mention Tim.
“And Tim scored a great goal from outside the circle. Even the opposition clapped.”
Jamie tries to smile, but it’s a pale imitation of his usual grin. The strain is evident in his voice as he asks, “That’s great. And he’s…all right, is he? Tim, I mean.”
Shit. What should I say to that?
I hesitate, weighing my words carefully.
“I don’t know Tim that well,” I begin slowly, “but I get the feeling he’s not doing great at the moment. He seems…sad.”
Jamie swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. Pain flickers in his eyes.
“He’s going through a tough time,” Jamie says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sure it’s been hard on both of you, you moving away,” I offer gently.
Jamie takes a long pull from his beer, his hand trembling as he sets the glass down. When he speaks again, his voice is strained. “No, it’s not me leaving. Something else happened.”
And then Jamie tells me about him and Tim, which starts as a simple story of two men finding love again after heartbreak but has the most screwed-up twist imaginable.
Fucking hell. And I thought things were screwed up between Marcus and me.
It’s obvious Jamie still wants to be with Tim but is too scared to tell him. I try to give him some advice, but I’m not sure it helps.
My phone beeps.
I’m about five minutes away.
Shit. I’d told Marcus to pick me up at eight p.m. But I never anticipated I’d fall into such a deep conversation with Jamie.
I glance up from my phone. “Sorry to do this, but I’ve got to head off.”
Jamie nods, quickly finishing his beer. “That’s fine. And thank you. I really appreciate you listening to the whole saga.”
“No worries. Relationships can be complicated sometimes.” The words feel heavy in my mouth, weighed down with unspoken meaning.
We stand and make our way through the pub. As we step outside, the cold London air is a shock compared to the warmth inside the pub.
“Thanks for everything, Seb. Enjoy the rest of your time in London,” Jamie says.
“Thanks.”
“You walking to the tube?” he asks.
“Ah, no, I’m good. Someone is picking me up.”
As if on cue, I hear the purr of Marcus’s Ferrari as it pulls up to the curb.
“Um…this is my ride here.”
Jamie’s eyebrows shoot up as he takes in the car. I can see questions forming in his mind, but thankfully, he doesn’t voice them.
