Page 82 of Animal Instincts
“But he said something to make you run scared.”
Oliver swallowed, tasting the over salty, oily curry.
“He did make comparisons, but it wasn’t what he said about the surface similarities between his and Joss’ situation. It—it was the comments he made about Joss being young and life here in the Harbour suffocating him. He said the village would stifle him, and he told me to think about what I was like at Joss’ age. And I did. I was so eager for my life to start, all my plans and ambitions were a prize hanging there, ready for me to grab with both hands.
“But Spencer wasn’t the only one who said it. If he had been, I could have dismissed it as just viciousness. Why would two people who don’t know each other from Adam say the same thing? It made me think. And I realised I was holding him back. I had to make a decision. I had to let Joss go, because I was putting the brakes on his life before it’d even begun. He’ll realise it was the right thing to do, in time.
“When you love somebody you only want to do what’s best for them even though it feels like I’ve ripped my heart out and thrown it to the fucking crows to feast on.”
“You’re a fool, Oliver. Have you got so little faith that you think he’ll turn around in a couple of years’ time and hate you for trapping him in a living, breathing death?”
Oliver hunched into the sofa, pushing himself deeper into the cushions.
“Oliver, listen to me. Okay, so he’s young, but that doesn’t mean he’s not an adult, a grown man. And yes, at twenty-two he still has lots to learn about life — but whether you’re two or a hundred-and-two, there’s always more to learn. He’s old enough to make his own mind up about what he wants, whatever you might have been manipulated into thinking. Joss knows exactly what’s best for him, Oliver, and that’s you. It’s as obvious as that oversized thing on your face you call a nose.”
Oliver’s free hand felt for his nose. There was nothing oversized about it.
“Stop touching your nose.”
Oliver let his hand fall. “I’m not,” he muttered.
James’ low, deep laugh rumbled all the way from London, before dying away into silence.
“You do realise what you said, don’t you?”
“What?” Oliver struggled to remember. His head was pounding, he was exhausted down to the bone and the temptation to crawl into some deep, dark place was pulling at him.
“Oh, you’re a hopeless case.Theword. The word you need to say to yourself but more importantly you need to say to Joss. The word that’ll kick all thisI only did it for him because I’m so insufferably noblecrap into touch.Theword, Oliver,theword, the one you said and don’t remember because it’s so true, and natural, and ingrained you didn’t even notice it’d passed your lips. I’m not giving you any more clues because you’re a grown up and shouldn’t need any. Allegedly.”
The moon had shifted position, its light bright and clear, streaming in and lighting up the darkness as it lit up—
The word.
The word he’d said, tripping off his tongue as though it were accepted, a given. A universal, undeniable, unassailable truth.
Love.
Oliver scrubbed the fingers of his free hand through his hair, his bitten and ragged nails digging into his scalp.
“Oh god,” he whispered, his voice rough and hoarse.
“It took you long enough to work out. Listen to me Oliver, listen hard and don’t interrupt.”
Oliver jerked upright. James’ voice was crisp and clear. The soldier, the policeman, the man who wassomething in the government, was issuing orders and Oliver was being commanded to listen.
“I know what it’s like to push the man you love away, telling yourself all kinds of crap for why you’re doing it. The problem is, if you tell it to yourself for long enough, you might even come to believe it. I was that man, and believe me, you don’t want to make the mistake I did. If I hadn’t come to my senses and fought for Perry, I don’t want to even think about the hell hole my life would be now.
“Don’t make the mistakes I did. Joss is a keeper, and if you want to keep him in your life, you have to make him understand how much you love him. You have to rip away all the pretence the mess you’ve made was for his benefit. No half measures, because that’s not going to work. You’ve got to be big and brash, the bigger and brasher the better. Hit him over the head with a heart shaped stick if you have to. Do whatever it takes to put right the monumental mistake you’ve made. But you’re going to have to do it soon because time’s running out.”
A chill passed over Oliver. “What do you mean, time’s running out?”
“He’s got an interview for a training post, in Nottingham. First thing Monday morning, so he’s going up on Sunday. He had to book the time off with Charles, so it’s how I know. It’s already Friday night — whoops, no it’s not. We’ve passed the witching hour. It’s now Saturday.
“The countdown’s on, Oliver. Are you brave enough, but more importantly, do you love Joss enough to stop the clock?”
FORTY-THREE
Joss looked at the email again. He’d lost count of how many times he’d read it. Who he would be meeting, information about the practice. He’d done his homework, his background reading. He’d thought about what they might ask, and had rehearsed his answers. There was nothing more he could do.
