Page 108 of Must Love Christmas

“To put out the fire,” Garen said in awell-obviouslytone as he swept the pieces of glass into the dustpan.

Simon picked up his blowtorch. He’d assumed the smell of smoke had been from an attempt at caramelization. “Why did you set the house on fire?”

“What’s it matter?” Garen shook open the bin bag. “It was broken from the start. We just couldn’t see the cracks.” He picked up a chunk of wall lined with icing and shook it at him. “See?”

“We could’ve fixed it.”

“Youcould’ve fixed it.” Garen hurled the piece of gingerbread into the bag. “Not me. Everything I touch turns to rubbish.”

Simon gritted his teeth, trying to stay calm in the face of Garen’s eruption. “You touched me, and I didn’t turn to rubbish.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

“Wasn’t it? What happened to this house was just an absurd accident, but you’re turning it into a metaphor for our relationship.”

“I’m not metaphor-ing.”

“So we’re not broken? We’re not doomed?”

Garen said nothing as he plucked more pieces of soggy gingerbread off the table and tossed them into the bag. Simon couldn’t see his face behind his veil of hair.

“Are we worth salvaging, Garen?” Simon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Am I worth it?”

Garen turned to him, eyes already overflowing. “You’re worth everything. It’s me that’s—”

“No.” Simon pointed his blow torch at the chair beside him. “I challenge you to get through this conversation without insulting yourself.”

Garen sat down on the edge of the seat, looking ready to run. “Which conversation are we having?”

“Which one do you think we’re having?”

Garen wiped his face, smearing a bit of gingerbread pulp over his cheek. “The one where we break up?”

Simon felt his own eyes burn at the thought. “Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know what else to do. I can’t stop—” Garen bit his lip, probably remembering the promise he’d just made not to slag himself off. “The way I’ve been the last week, it drives you bananas. And that’s the last thing you need just now.”

“You’re so wrong. You’re not the last thing I need.” Simon reached out a foot to touch Garen’s furry-slippered toe. “You’re thefirstthing I need.”

“But at the rink you said—”

“That I didn’t need you. I’m sorry. I was talking shite cos I was frustrated and humiliated. You think you’re the only one with issues?”

Garen shook his head. “You’re a proud man. That’s normal.”

“It’s more than pride. It’s fear.” Simon felt his breath quicken at the mere thought of this admission. “Needing you…needing anyone…it feels like annihilation. And I can’t escape it, because it’s reality. This body is my reality now.”

Garen’s face pinched. “How can I make it better?”

You can’t, Simon thought bitterly, then realized that was indeed part of the answer. “You could start by not trying to make it better.”

“So you do want me to leave you alone.”

“I want to be with you!” Simon also wanted to shake him with exasperation. He’d just confessed his greatest weakness, and Garen had immediately tried to make it about himself. “What Idon’twant is you tying yourself in knots trying to fix things, then freaking out and pulling away when you realize you can’t.”

“Hm.” Garen pulled off a sheet of kitchen roll and focused on cleaning his hands for several seconds. “So you’re saying I should calm the fuck down and just be with you?”

“Yes,” Simon said, relief flooding his veins.

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