Page 66 of Hearts Colliding
Ryan gazed at his two friends, both slumped across the bar, their heads propped up in their hands. They looked as dejected as he felt. Oh, what the hell…
“When I said we never talked about the development, that wasn’t quite true.” He caught Declan’s eye as his friend sat up straight. “I asked him what he'd do if he didn't get planning permission.”Because I thought, maybe just maybe, he’d have a change of heart…Ryan cleared his throat. He’d started and no way could he not finish, not with two sharp pairs of eyes boring into him. “He said he'd sell up and walk away, and whatever happened to the house and the land would be nothing to do with him.”
“Sounds like a threat to me," Declan muttered.
“No.” Charles sighed. “Just bald facts. Plain and simple. He made it clear neither the village nor the Love heritage played any part in his life. If he didn't get what he wanted, what was the point of him keeping hold of it? Regardless of the outcome of the application, there was nothing to keep him… Oh shit. I’m sorry Ryan, that was… indelicate.”
Ryan shrugged. Indelicate. It was the civilised way to put it. He poured Charles another glass of wine, and pulled two pints, one for him, the other for Declan. For tonight, the no drinking on duty rule could go and do one.
“On the house.”
He raised his glass to Declan. Friends again, even if the throbbing around his eye disagreed.
The door opened, bringing with it a blast of cool air and the first fall of leaves. Summer was slipping away, soon they’d be lighting the fire to chase away the cold.
Joss, Oliver and Doreen came over, with Joss' dog Bingo making up the rear.
"Thought we'd come and drown our sorrows.” Joss settled himself at the bar. He glanced around. “Quiet in here tonight.”
Ryan looked out over the pub. A couple of regulars sat in the corner, talking to his nan, but they were gathering up their things and getting ready to leave. He'd never known it so dead. It was as though the village was hunkering down indoors, waiting to hear of its fate, which had already been decided. He pulled his attention back to the war council, whose reason to exist had disappeared in the blink of an eye. They were, as far as he was aware, the only ones in the village who knew of the outcome, but all that would change tomorrow. It wasn't all that would change. He poured drinks, refusing payment. Tonight they were strictly friends, not customers.
Eva came back to the bar, after locking up behind the last of the customers. “We're closed. It’s all on the house tonight, Ryan.”
“Already is," he muttered to her departing back as she went and joined Doreen at a table, their identical orange curls bobbing as they nodded in unison, huddled together over their drinks.
“Kind of feels like a wake," Joss said.
"That's because it is.” Declan stared into his beer.
Ryan picked up a cloth and again began to wipe down the bar. Dipping his head, he blinked away the sudden upswell of tears. A wake, that was exactly what it was, and for so much more than the village.
He moved along the bar, leaving the four men talking in a huddle.
“Ry?'
He looked up. Joss had left the others, and was leaning over the bar.
"I'm really sorry about you and Alex,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Despite what he wanted to do to the village. You looked good together. Is there any chance…?”
His world was falling apart but Ryan couldn't help but smile at the hope shining in Joss' eyes. His oldest friend, and ever the romantic.
A sudden and overwhelming wave of affection crashed into him, pounding at his already battered and beaten emotions. Sweet, cheerful, ever optimistic Joss, wanting the fairytale ending for others, for them to find their own Prince Charming as he'd found his. But Ryan's life felt as far from a soft and fluffy fairy tale as it was possible to get.
“No, it’s over…” His voice wavered and he stopped, taking a breath. “But Alex was only ever passing through. He made that very clear. Whatever illusions I had, they were mine and not his.”
Circumstances and opportunity. Use by dates. It was all they'd ever been. It would become his mantra, the tape that would hold his broken heart together.
Joss tilted his head to the side, his clear gaze steady and seeing too much. "You can't leave it like this. Have you seen him since, you know, with that reporter?”
Ryan nodded. “I went to the house earlier today, and told him the reporter had nothing to do with me. He believed me in the end, but it was all too late. He’s lost faith in me, even though I told him I… that I…” The words stuck in his throat, too raw and painful to say, as bitter tears blurred his vision.
Joss' eyes grew large. “You…? Oh, Ry… That has to make all the difference.”
“It makes no difference. He couldn’t have made it clearer. Whatever I might or might not have said, don't say anything to anybody. Please. Because it's no use. The bridge between us, it’s too big to cross. Whatever happened, it’s finished with.”
Cuddles and kisses, endless kisses. Laughter and more kisses, and Alex, looking up at him with total trust as he offered his body, as he offered his—
Ryan squeezed his eyes tight as pain spasmed through him. No, Alex had never truly offered his heart, and he was a fool to think otherwise. Delusional. Alex had seen him for what he was.
