Page 1 of Wants and Needs
PROLOGUE
CARTER DIN
Oxfordshire, England
June
Just climb the fucking stairs,Carter.
It might be strange to be pushing myself to go into the house I grew up in, but in reality, I know I have a perfectly valid reason for second-guessing this whole thing.
First of all, the house has basically been completely closed for more than three years since I moved back to America. I’m pretty sure it’s only thanks to Milton that it hasn’t fallen down.
Okay, that’s an exaggeration. Mum renovated the whole thing only months before that awful day after graduation, so the house is actually in pretty good shape.
Perfect for selling . . .
The whole reason why I’m here.
I’m definitely selling it.
There’s no reason to keep it, and it’s not only because it’s a financial burden—though Dad left me more than well taken care of—it’s the principle of it all.
No matter what our last phone call was like, I know my parents loved me. They wanted the best for me, and Mum would’ve definitely hit me over the head for not moving on sooner, for spending so much time stuck in the past and doing my damndest to not feel a thing all these years.
Staring at the front door, at the elaborate front facade of the building, I can’t help but think over everything that’s happened.
After graduation, after I realized what had happened to my parents and what my last words to them had been, I moved back here and was a mess for too long. I let myself wallow in the empty pit of guilt, regret, and loss.
I still don’t know exactlyhowI’m supposed to live the rest of my life without my parents, and they died more than seven years ago. I have no idea how I’ve survived—no, actually I do.
My friends back in America.
When I was living here I did my very best to push them away, but they didn’t let me. Even busy as hell with med school, CJ came by and tried to keep me alive.
Adam and Sebas came as well while he was in the off season and Sebas had time off from school.
And they took me back to America with them eventually.
Sebas opened his gallery and reminded me that what I wanted to do with my life before it imploded was to manage galleries. I wanted to see beauty every day, and I could still do that if I let myself.
So I closed up this house and moved to New York. Startedmy masters, started working with Sebas, then I started managing all of CJ’s inherited art pieces. And eventually, when I got my head out of my arse and went to therapy, I reached a point where I didn’t hate myself so much anymore. Now I know I’m finally back to being strong enough to deal with what has to happen.
I have to sell my parents’ house. I have no business keeping it, and I’m never going to be able to live in it.
“Carter?” I hear a deep voice from behind me and turn quickly because it sounds so familiar. And then I see him.
It’s been more than ten years since we left Woodcourtt School, since I moved to San Francisco to attend Cavendish University. Ru stayed here and went to Oxford as was expected of him, but seeing him now, how he’s changed so much and not at all at the same time, it warms my chest the way only an old friend can.
I smile at him, nothing else I can do at the moment, and walk over wordlessly to throw my arms around him.
“You alright, mate?” he asks me quietly, then he hugs me back, and it’s perfect.
“I didn’t know I missed you,” I tell him.
He chuckles lightly, never one to be overly expressive. I didn’t expect anything else from him.
“Me either.”
