Page 42 of Christmas Spirit
“What do you mean?” Georgie said, but he knew, deep in his gut he knew.
Roland released a deep, trembling sigh.
“He blackmailed me. He had photos, emails and text messages, and recordings of the two of us. He threatened to go to my employer, to put them on the internet, to send the photos to my parents. And to my eternal shame, I capitulated.
“I should have stood my ground and brazened it out. Called his bluff. But I was ashamed, and I felt so, so stupid. I’d been duped, and I’d have been a laughingstock. I couldn’t have taken that, I couldn’t let everybody see I’d let myself believe that this vicious, venal man had felt something real for me.”
“And you thought I’d be like that, too? What have I ever done or said that made you think I would do such a thing?”
How could Roland believe he would be like that? After last night and the way it had been between them, how could hebelievethat?
“No, you haven’t. You never have. You’re nothing like him but—but I had to keep my distance the only way I knew how,” Roland cried.
“Keep your distance? By treating me with coldness and contempt? But I’m not him, I could never be like that.”
“I know, I know that now. I know it, too damn late.” Roland rubbed his hands down his face, and when he looked at Georgie and spoke once more, his voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper.
“You, you made me feel alive, Georgie. Truly alive, in a way I’ve never felt before. You showed me what it was like to feel again. You showed me a light in the darkness. You showed me that I don’t have to cower and be scared anymore. In here.” Roland rested a hand against his chest on the spot where his heart lay. “I don’t want to let any of that go. I don’t want to letyougo.”
Georgie wanted to believe Roland, he wanted to so much. He’d believed him last night. He’d believed every kiss, every whispered word, every touch and stroke, every smile and spark of light and laughter in Roland’s eyes. He’d believed it all because he wanted to so badly, and just like every other time in his life he’d let himself get sucked in, before he was spat out as though he were something foul and disgusting.
But he wanted so much to believe in Roland…
No.
Belief had brought him nothing but pain and heartache. He had to protect his bruised and battered heart. He had to nurture it, and somehow, God alone knew how, he had to put it back together, because one more knock would shatter it for good.
Shaking his head, Georgie stepped back, because just being with Roland was too raw and painful, seeing him, breathing him in, remembering how those lips tasted…
A soft thud sounded, as a part of the half-built snowman fell away and landed on the ground. It was breaking up and falling apart.
“Let me help you, Georgie. Let me help you put it together and make it whole.”
Roland’s hand gripped at his wrist. Not tight, it would take nothing to pull away, but Roland’s palm was warm and strong, and Christ, didn’t he need some warmth and strength in his life?
“I’m so tired of doing all of it on my own,” Georgie whispered.
“You don’t have to—to struggle. Please, give me a chance to help you, Georgie. Let’s help each other.”
Help. When had anybody ever really wanted to help him?
“Why should I trust you?” Georgie whispered.
Roland shrugged, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t answer that. All I ask is that you do. It’s not much of an answer and I deserve to be told to go to hell. I wouldn’t blame you, but I hope you won’t.”
As one, they turned to the snowman.
Half-built, falling to pieces, incomplete. No matter how hard Georgie tried, how hard he worked, everything fell apart around him. What was the point in trying?
Roland released his grip. Bending down he gathered up some snow and, balling it in his hands, placed it on top of the tilting mess that was Georgie’s solo effort. It stuck, perfectly, in place.
The wind dropped, and the snow petered out until it was no more than a few meandering wispy flakes, floating on the gentlest of breezes. In silence, and in harmony, they worked together until at last the snowman was complete.
Georgie stepped back, and smiled. He could never have done it on his own.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“You shouldn’t have had to do it alone. I should have helped from the start.”
