Page 120 of Playing to Win

“You can’t win me back.” Andrew swallowed to keep from choking on his tears. “You can’t win back what you never lost.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

“THISFILMREMINDSme of Fergus and John.” Colin shifted his head atop the pillow on Andrew’s lap. “Their story ended better, of course.”

Andrew said nothing at first, savoring the last few moments ofOut in the Darkas one of the heroes made a noble, heartbreaking sacrifice for love. The ending wasn’t happy by any means, but it was perfect.

As the closing credits rolled, Andrew said, “Glasgow isn’t quite the Gaza Strip, but there are days when you wouldn’t know it.” He stroked the soft waves of Colin’s hair, as much to soothe himself as anything. “I can’t understand why some Catholics and Protestants in Scotland still hate each other. But I’m Church of England, so what do I know?”

“I’m nothing. Religion-wise, I mean.” Colin scoffed. “Maybe more than religion-wise.”

“Stop. You’re not nothing.” Andrew tugged Colin’s earlobe. “You know that, right?” He tugged harder. “Right?”

“Wrong.” Colin snatched Andrew’s hand from his ear and clenched it in his own.

“I was desperately worried tonight.” He kept stroking Colin’s hair with his free hand. “The way you were when you left John’s—not just the things you said, but the way you—” Andrew bit his lip, wondering if he should bring it up. “The way you rubbed your arms, your scars, I thought maybe you wanted to hurt yourself again.”

“No—well, I did, kinda, but not until later. When you saw me rubbing them, that was different. I do that when I’m stressed, but it’s to feel the old scars, not because I want to make new ones.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It comforts me. I know that sounds weird. But it’s like…it reminds me I survived.”

Andrew wanted to cry again. The film credits’ melancholy music wasn’t helping. “You have survived, Colin. You’ve survived much worse than this.”

“No, this is the worst.” His voice was dull and raw. “This calls everything into question. Everything I want. Everything I believe. Everything I am.”

“Right, that’s enough.” Andrew was done coddling. “Why should this make you question everything?” He gestured to the windows. “Because only forty-something percent of Scotland agrees with you? Why do you care what the masses think? If your convictions are true, they’re true even if they’re shared by only one percent. How many agreed with Einstein or Newton or Darwin?” He stopped. “That’s overselling it, isn’t it?”

“A wee bit.” Colin brought his knees to his chest as if he had a stomach cramp. “I just feel so deluded. It seemed we were part of something unstoppable.”

“You were. You still are. You turned the leaders of one of the world’s most powerful nations into beggars. You had them dashing about Scotland last week, promising this, threatening that, turning themselves inside out to keep us. And because you scared them, they’ve promised more powers than they can deliver.”

“We don’t matter to them. They’ll put Scotland back in the box now.”

“They’ll try,” Andrew said, “but they’ll find Scotland has blown that box to bits.”

Colin sat up, his eyes now clear and sharp. “Why are you saying all this? What happened to the reality you were shoving down my throat?”

“Firstly, the reality is much more complicated than No winning and Yes losing. Secondly, I’m sorry about the shoving. I should’ve been kinder.”

“Naw, I was being a dick.” Colin fidgeted with a hole in his jeans, picking at the pale-blue threads. “They say people show their true nature under duress, and my true nature isnae very nice.”

“Your true nature is one which cares deeply and has a lot at stake. That’s why I forgave you. Also, the fish told me to.”

Colin eyed him, then glanced at the aquarium. “Which one?”

“The Answer Fish. Well, it didn’t technically come from there, but it would have eventually.” He turned to the side table and picked up the teabag tag from the cup he’d made before Colin arrived. “I’ve seen every tag at least a dozen times, but never this one before.”

Colin read it aloud. “‘Give forgiveness, that is your greatness.’ Shouldn’t there be a semicolon instead of a comma?”

“Yes, it’s grammatically incorrect. Also inaccurate, because clearly my greatness lies elsewhere. But it seemed like a sign.” Though Colin still looked skittish, Andrew reached out to caress his cheek. “I can’t imagine how much you’re hurting, or how hard it must have been to come here tonight. I have to let you mourn.”

“I can’t yet, not until it’s truly over.” Colin kissed Andrew’s palm. “But thank you.”

The film ended just then. Andrew looked at the clock. “Still an hour until Glasgow results at five, but it could come early. Shall we put on the news?”

“Not BBC.”

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