Chapter Twenty-Eight
Three months later...
Gus
I was tired for a long time. Billy made me eat and go outside a lot, which helped, but it was early winter before I felt like myself again, and by then, the world—my world, at least—was a different place.
Billy was everything. Not just to me, but to Luke too. And Mia. Family dinners were loud, and funny, and long days at work were filled with laughter and the kind of bickering that made people happy. It was a trip I never wanted to end.
“Shame you had to nearly die to make it happen, eh?” Mia remarked one night when she caught me mooning over Billy and Luke building a pizza oven in Luke’s frosty garden. They were squabbling over the consistency of the cement, and they were both wrong, but observing them was far more fun than setting them straight.
“I didn’t nearly die. Don’t be so dramatic.”
Mia shot me a dark glare. “You have a selective memory.”
“I remember the important things.”
“You’reimportant, Gus.”
“I know.”
And for the first time in years, I did. How could I not when I woke up next to Billy every morning? Even when he was in a grumpy mood—he hadn’t changedthatmuch—he still managed to let me know I mattered. And when he wasn’t in a grumpy mood? Yeah. I wanted to bottle that feeling so the whole world could have it.
Mia got up and fetched more beer from the outdoor fridge, but I waved away her offer of a cold stubby. Getting drunk reminded me too much of how I’d felt when I’d nearly lost my equilibrium for good.
Besides, I had plans for Billy when we got home...plans I’d been formulating since the morning I’d opened my eyes to clear vision and a head that didn’t pound every time I bent over.
As if he’d heard the dirty path my thoughts had taken, Billy glanced over his shoulder. He smirked, and I smirked right back, much to Mia’s disgust, but I ignored her complaints. Her and Luke had driven me half mad before she’d moved out of my place. It was only fair that I returned the favour, even if I was grateful that the strength of her relationship with Luke had landed Billy in my spare room in the first place.
Gratefuldidn’t seem a strong enough word.
Mia disappeared inside. I thought about following her to help with the dishes, but I was too enchanted by Billy to move. I watched him win the argument over the cement and lay the bricks for the dome of the wood-fired oven. He moved his hands with grace, and his tongue was caught between his teeth. The bricks were going to fall down, but I’d learned over the last few months that failure didn’t mean you couldn’t try again.
The pizza oven fell. Twice. I could’ve helped, but I didn’t. I ate apple tart and plotted ways to convince Billy to leave it for the night and come back tomorrow. But in the end, I didn’t need to. Mia’s impatience was my good fortune, and with Luke otherwise occupied, I finally had Billy to myself.
I hustled him to the van and drove us home.
Billy fidgeted in his seat and picked dried cement from his fingers, but his restlessness was no longer something I feared. Instead, I watched him work on the rooftops, growing stronger each day, and revelled in his boundless energy.
Energy I had plans for tonight.
And he knew, of course. Billy knew most things without me having to say them. But I’d made him a promise that, good or bad, I’d voice my feelings out loud more. Guessing was a stressful way of life for him, and I loved Billy at peace too much to waste it on repressed angst.
We made it home.
Billy slid out of his seat and disappeared into the house to feed Grey. I followed, locking the door behind me, and trooped straight upstairs. I heard Billy come up and get in the shower. Habit took me to the bedroom window to wait for him. Over the last few months, Billy had built decking at the bottom of the garden—it had given him something to do when I’d done nothing but sleep for days and days and days. He’d carved holes for solar-powered lights, and now every evening the local cats seemed to treat the deck as a hangout, while Grey howled at them from the kitchen windowsill.
It wasn’t the most relaxing nightly ritual, but I liked it.
“Watching cat TV again?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Billy was a heartbeat behind me, wrapped in a towel, and dripping water all over the floor like he always did. Drawn to him in ways I couldn’t describe, I turned and pulled him to me with little conscious thought. “They’re not out yet. Must all be having their dinner still.”
“Or lurking round mouse town up the road.”
I hummed and caught a bead of water as it ran down Billy’s chest. “You should let Grey out to play. I think he’d be all right.”
“I think he’d be a fucking hooligan.”