Page 106 of Never Too Late

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Bernie.”

“No worries, good job I have a strong young man sitting here to protect me, hey?” He throws a wink at Dax and I swear I can see eyes darken. Part of me wants to laugh as Bernie is harmless, but I don’t want to make anything worse.

Jumping from the stool, I walk towards him, pressing my hand under his chin, lifting his head up to meet mine, and press a gentle kiss to his lips. “You okay? You’re not meant to finish for a few more hours yet.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m good, we closed up early. Ty has gone to help Novah and her sister at their family bar, Prancing Pony I think he said. He seemed excited, he mentioned there’s a stage area and he’s going to try to convince them to allow him to have an open mic night. I liked seeing him excited, he asked if I wanted to go but I told him to run ahead.”

“Prancing Pony?! They do the best cawl.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Dax speaks up.

“Nothing disgusting about it, son, it’s just lamb stew, some veg and bread. I don’t know how it got the name, I ain’t complaining though cause it’s my favourite,” he says as he stands, making his way back towards the till area. “Anyway, I haven’t got much else to do here, Jae. If you want to head off early with your boyfriend you can, I’m in tomorrow if you want to come hang around again.”

“Are you sure? If you need a hand with anything, I don’t mind staying.”

“No, it’s okay son, you get going,” he replies instantly.

Well now I feel like he’s kicking me out.

I notice Dax walking to the far side of the shop, the wall that stands out the most. It’s beautifully decorated with bursts of colours, guarded by flowers of all shapes and sizes. Flowers I recognise from being tattooed on his skin and flowers I’ve never seen before.

“Are you able to make me a bouquet, Bernie?”

“Never need to ask son, you could make yourself one if you wanted. What’s the occasion?”

“I need to go see Mum. I haven’t been there in a while, I could do with two of the same actually. Two to take to a grave.”

“Give me ten minutes.” Bernie smirks.

He didn’t lie when he said it would only take ten minutes. Bernie created some of the most beautiful bouquets I’ve ever seen. Dax explained what the flowers meant in the car on the way to the cliffs. Carnations, resembling love and remembrance, hydrangea, resembling sympathy, lily, resembling innocence and small bunches of forget-me-nots for sympathy. The colours complement each other beautifully as they catch the sun while sitting on Dax’s lap, and I can’t help but think how beautiful his skin would look with some of those flowers added to his collection.

“Is everything okay? You decided you wanted to come here suddenly. Did something happen?” I ask, scared what the answer will be

“Oh no, nothing happened. I just haven’t been here in a while. I just wanted to come speak to Mum, that’s all.”

He feels distant, cold.

Does this mean I’m losing him?

I choose not to say anything else, scared of the thought it could overwhelm him, so I nod, keeping by his side as we walk down the pathway together.

He cuts off to the left, towards Lottie’s grave. I haven’t been here in a while, and I feel a sense of guilt washing over me. Idah has been distant recently, I haven’t wanted to push her. I’ve been sending regular texts asking if she's okay and she’s been responding, but she hasn’t asked me to come with her to the grave and I haven’t wanted to invite myself in case she doesn’t want me there. She knows I’m here whenever she needs me, and I just have to hope she’ll come around soon.

Dax places the smaller bouquet in front of Lottie’s grave. We’ve both started to do this, when we’ve come, even when Idah hasn’t asked us to. It became a routine for us. And with there being no fresh flowers laid out, it’s obvious she hasn’t been here recently either.

If anyone can understand Idah better than me, it’s him.

He doesn’t say anything, another way I know he isn’t okay. He walks back over and laces his fingers with my own, holding on tightly as he leads me towards the back gate.

He continues to stay silent when he lays the flowers on the bench, holding onto me tighter bringing me towards the edge of the cliffs, slowly taking a seat, hanging his feet over the edge.

I do the same.

“Will you see me differently if the doctors diagnose me?” His voice shakes.

How I wish I could scream. Not in anger. Not in sadness.

Does he really have no idea how much I’m in love with him?

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