Page 40 of Crying in the Rain

Ade remembered nodding in agreement and silently vowing to go straight home and pack his stuff, stay at his mum’s until Fergus got the message. That was eight years ago.

“Not me. Not my fault. Not my fault.” Ade hit stop on the memory replay and unplugged his tablet. He couldn’t do this without a checklist.

To go:

1. TV

2. stereo

3. DVDs (top two shelves)

4. …

Tablet in hand, he opened the wardrobe, the drawers and bedside table.

4. Clothes in left wardrobe

5. Shoes

6. Aftershave

He set down his tablet and examined the aftershave bottle, still full. He’d bought it for their first Christmas together, and it hadn’t been cheap, but he’d thought it would suit Fergus. He couldn’t recall what it smelled like now, but Fergus had hated it, or so he said. Ade popped the stopper out and sniffed. A wave of panic and nausea hit him and sent him into a cold sweat. He quickly shoved the stopper back in lest the genie fully escape and left the aftershave next to the wine bottles in the kitchen.

Back to the bedroom, he continued his inventory of the bedside table.

6. Aftershave

7. Books

8. Condoms

He flipped the box over in his hand.Fruit-flavoured condoms.Since when?

9. Get tested

A fury ripped through him, but somehow he stayed in control long enough to put his tablet down. So many of his things had been destroyed over the years that even when all hell was in uproar around him, he had the sense to stash his most valued possessions out of harm’s way. Everything except himself because he was worth nothing. Less than nothing.

“No, no, no, no, no, no…” Why did his brain default to this? Because it was easier to be the useless, ugly creature that Fergus had turned him into? Easier not to break the habit? He didn’t love Fergus anymore. He wanted him out of his head and his life. He wanted a life, goddammit.

He was a thirty-six-year-old man, apparently not unattractive, with a successful career, a beautiful sister, gorgeous nephew and niece, a lovely mum who never once judged, never once put him on a guilt trip. Kris’s reaction to the bruises the night before had given him a flashback to the first time his mum saw them and the fear she tried to hide. But he’d seen it, felt it…was feeling it all over again.

He breathed deeply, in and out, one breath after another. What she must have been going through, like a parent whose child is dying and there’s nothing that can be done to save them. Because he was dying, slowly being destroyed by a vicious, vindictive monster who didn’t deserve to be that important. His mum was worth more than a million Fergus Campbells.

“And so am I.”

Pulling the biggest suitcase off the top of the wardrobe, he took the clothes, shoes, books, thefucking cheating-and-not-even-bothering-to-hide-the-factbastard’s condoms and piled it all into the suitcase. Then he climbed onto the bed and knelt on the case, zipping it shut and tugging the two leather straps tight.

High on adrenaline and the release of years of repressed rage, Ade dragged the case to the floor and hauled it out into the hallway. Next, he unplugged the TV and stereo, dumped those inthe hallway too, followed by the DVDs, the coffee maker, which was Ade’s, but he didn’t give a shit, Fergus’s favourite mug, which, naturally, he’d bought himself, and any other stupid odds and ends left lying around and claiming ownership of Ade’s space. Tie clips, cufflinks, pens, balled, dirty socks, half-eaten chocolate bars—it all went into a bag and out to the hallway.

Lastly, because he was feeling supremely brave or dangerously stupid and regardless, the gesture was overwhelmingly everything, he took the hideous couple portrait photo from where he’d hidden it behind the sofa, removed it from its frame and ripped it in half, straight down the middle. He forced the two halves through the shredder, emptied the resultant heap of paper into an empty shoe box, along with the token apologies—the promise ring, his half of a silver mizpah, the two ceramic bears holding up their lying ‘I luv U’ heart—

Not once had Fergus apologised for real, actually said the wordsI’m sorry.

—and the finishing touch: Ade took off his watch and bashed it hard against the corner of the table, shattering the screen and sending the little chrome hands into a timeless, satisfying tailspin. He whacked it a couple more times, just to be sure, laid the pieces of the completely destroyed watch on top of the rest of the meaningless trinkets and shredded remnants of their well-and-truly-dead relationship, and stuck the lid of the shoe box firmly shut, wrapping the tape around and around until there was only cardboard left on the roll. Taking a Sharpie, he wrote THE END on the top of the box, put it with everything else and took a step back to admire his efforts. This time they wouldnotbe in vain.

Next: go and make things right with his boss and Pip.

He didn’t have to go very far. As Ade opened the door to leave the building, he almost ran straight into Pip, who immediately flung her arms around him.

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